Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Writing: The Confession

Algonquin Fertility Dance, by Theodore de Bry, 1590

My writing has progressed on the Second Chapter of my third book. The seduction of our young, betrothed hero has taken place at the hands of a scheming 30 year old woman -- Raven -- with an important 70 year old husband -- the Chief of Chiefs. Set 1000 years ago among the Hopewell peoples, the same powerful emotions with which we grapple today are present in my novel of that era.

Our 18 year old hero -- Young Heron -- has decided not to confess to the lovely Lone Bird, his chosen; the only person he will tell is, simultaneously, his Father as well as the Chief of his Village:

“Aiyee, Young Heron, my Son. Welcome back from Chi’cotha. Your tally skins from the Fertility Festival have been reviewed and we believe will be a great help as we predict future… resources,” Father stated. Some of the Council began chuckling at the word “resources.”

“What news do you bring from our first Village?” Father asked.

I began in a sad tone, “I am distressed to report that I fear our beloved Storyteller is soon to cross over to the other side of the river. Privately, he confided that he is bleeding from inside and that the bleeding cannot be stopped. He asked for a personal drawing of him that would be turned into a ceremonial pipe and buried with him. He is now as we know him, but he is showing weakness daily.”

“This is unhappy news,” Father agreed, “but death is a fate that awaits us all. Let us hope that each of us will have as important a life as the Storyteller.” The Council murmured sounds of approval.

“Unless there is other business… then this meeting is dismissed,” Father stated in his Chief’s voice; I remained behind as the others left, speaking softly to each other.

“Sentinel, tell those waiting outside that I will be with them in a moment, " Father said as he turned to me. " This is ‘grievance’ day, so I need to wait for my advisor who knows of these complaints and will help me decide; some will be happy and some will not, but that is our way.” Father was a good Chief and took his duties seriously, which made my confession even more difficult.

“Father, I need to speak frankly of a deeply personal matter,” I began, thinking that I could describe the scene leading up to the moment, hoping that Father would look more kindly on my actions, knowing the entire background. But my need to confess overtook me and I blurted out the ending.

“Raven, the Chief of Chief’s One, and I ‘joined’ while in Chi’cotha.” My voice was nervous and hushed; my head was bowed.

“What?” Father exclaimed. “Did you say that you… joined? Do you mean physically… joined?”

“Yes, Father. I wanted you to know, as it may affect your being Chief somehow.”

“Did Raven indicate that my being Chief was threatened by this?” Father asked in a concerned manner.

“No. It is just a worry of mine.”

“Alright.” His Chief’s voice took over as Father controlled his emotions. “Where were you when this happened?”

“In her quarters,” I answered, still nervous
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Chapter two is now 27 pages long using 10,000 words, probably about 45 book pages. It is not over, as there are still three major sections to write in this chapter.

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