Myth-staken

Greek mythology is dead.

Right?

Of course not.

But Greek mythology has been wrung out like an old wash cloth since 900 BCE, and while there is still plenty (plenty) of room for interpretation, there’s a whole world of myth out there just as rich.

In the early stages of The Book of the Dead I knew that, though I was dealing with a pantheon of pantheons, it would not do to lean too heavily on Greek mythology. I use Greek figures as an introduction to the turbulent scene of the Underworld–like the main character, the reader is also brought to Hades (the place, not the god) by Hermes–and from there the narrative diverges into Egyptian, Sumerian, Hopi, and a basketful of other mythscapes. But the character of Hermes serves as a grounding point, a bridge into different mythos. And I’ve never heard of someone who doesn’t like Hermes, whatever piece of literature he’s in. He’s a likeable bridge.

Okay, here’s Hermes. He’s been rehashed one million times, and here’s the next iteration. Now let’s go a little deeper…have you heard of Ereshkigal? 

Hermes_e_Sarpedon edit

✴This has been a queued post, as I am currently in the Amazon with no Wifi.

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Dodging Doubt

It’s that time again, when I depart from my mountaintop university, drive six hours, and end up back home in an existential crisis. It comes from lack of structure.

How will I attempt to abate this? Writing, of course!

I plan to knock out a final-ish draft of The Book of the Dead in the next month and a half before I leave for Ecuador so I can hit the ground querying when I get back. My goal is at least half a chapter a day, using the process I detailed in this post. I’m fighting a lot of doubt right now over just about every aspect of the story, so hopefully total immersion in it will belay that.

I found a quote on tumblr that I will be referencing when I feel  this way: “when u dont like ur art take a deep breath and remember u created it from nothing, like a god” —hypeswap

I think this can apply just as well to writing. Nothing like a power trip to chase away hesitation. I’d love to hear others’ ways of coping with doubt.

 

Psychopomps?

What’s a psychopomp? It’s a question most people ask themselves at least once in their lives. The answer is that a psychopomp is a being who transports souls to the afterlife.

Why do you care? Another questions most people ask themselves at least once in their lives, regarding psychopomps. The answer is that you care because psychopomps are seriously cool. The very nature of a psychopomp imbues them with a sense of liminality: they are at once deities of death and not, they are of the living world and the underworld, benign guides and malicious reapers. Animal psychopomps–foxes, owls, etc–easily evoke the sense that they can slip between worlds on a whim.

Psychopomps can be: angels, ancestors, spirits, monsters, gods, goddesses, butterflies, birds, dogs, and multitudinous others.

Hermes, more oft known for his role as a messenger, is a psychopomp as well, with one foot in Hades. Of course, Charon is more well known for his role as Greek ferryman of the dead. Aken serves a similar role in ancient Egyptian mythology, and Urshanabi in ancient Mesopotamian. There is Xolotl, Ch’eng Huang, Valkryies, Agni, and many more.

In The Book of the Dead, half the cast is made up of psychopomps. Nebtu, one of the protagonists, is a psychopomp herself. They are more familiar with life than the rest of the gods of the underworld, because they are in constant interaction with it.

 

My Writerly Agenda

Right now, approximately 500,000 people are at the Women’s March on Washington, standing in solidarity, with pink hats and exceptional art. Yesterday afternoon, 10,000 people turned out to the inauguration.

Today I was supposed to be at the march in Asheville, NC, making my voice heard as well. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I am not there. So my voice is going into this post, in solidarity with wonderful, loud women across the country.

I undeniably have an writing Agenda, capital A. It’s always there, percolating in the background: to write diversely, to write realistically, to present to the world kickass characters who are diverse. The characters and who they are grow organically from the swamp of literature and discourse I have absorbed over the years.

In the Book of the Dead, I attempt to realistically present diversity–but not just diverse labels slapped on characters. Diverse themes. Diverse narratives.

I juggle a multitude of beliefs in this story. Ancient Egyptian and Greek, Mesopotamian, Hindu, Christian, Akan, Islamic. Too many to list in a brief blog post. And before I began writing, I sat myself down and looked myself in the eye and said: “They must all be equal.” It’s not a book about religion, it’s a book about belief, and friendship, and sacrifice. And each world I wrote about was just as complex, required just as much research and nuanced characterization.

My protags—two young women—explore their identities throughout the story. Both of them, one four thousand years old and one eighteen, are searching for who they are. One wants acceptance, one wants to find her roots. In an underworld of endless possibility, they forge towards their goals together.

My Writerly Agenda is diabolical. Girls discovering themselves in an infinitely complex world where all belief is equal, where they may struggle against monsters and maniacs but never against invalidity.

That’s what I hope to see reflected in the world. And today, thousands and thousands of people are fighting for this cause, among many others.

The Egyptian Book of the Dead

 

In my novel The Book of the Dead, most of the characters are dead. All the action happens in the underworld.

Nebtu, a boatwoman, was murdered in the Middle Kingdom of ancient Egypt and had to fight her way through the Duat-the Egyptian underworld-to reach her afterlife.

The above video is from a TED talk describing, very accurately and prettily, the journey of a dead person’s soul through the Duat. They face monsters and gods with their own copy of the Book of the Dead, full of spells to help them out. (If I had this clip while I was first piecing together Nebtu’s journey, I could have saved myself a LOT of time.)

Nebtu’s tale follows this account fairly well, but there are a few deviations. First of all, she was not buried with her own book-in the Middle Kingdom only the wealthy and important were privileged enough to own a copy. But through her occupation as a scribe copying out the Book for others, Nebtu memorized the necessary spells. (She’s pretty crafty.)

Secondly, for narrative purposes, the main opponents she faces in the Duat are underworld-dwelling gods, not just monsters. Wepawet (wolfy god of war), Nehebkau (double-headed snake god), and Nephthys (goddess of the dead) all make appearances on a sliding scale of malevolence.

The judging and heart-weighing ceremony was one of my favorites to write, as that’s where one of my favorite characters/gods-Thoth-makes his debut. And the visceral experience of Nebtu’s heart being removed and weighed against the feather of Ma’at was weirdly satisfying to write.

And of course, if Nebtu had stayed to tend her plot of land for all eternity, there would be no further story for her. Instead of staying in Aaru, the reed fields ruled by Osiris, she sets off to make herself useful to the gods and understand the greater nature of the underworld.

Three thousand years later, our story begins.