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An Excerpt from The Age Of Dionysus

As mentioned in a posting earlier this summer, I am writing a magical realism novel, The Age Of Dionysus.The first rough draft is largely complete. Now comes the part of revision, adjusting plot lines, developing (or eliminating) characters. As the first draft has gotten rather long, I have started a process of diagramming the various plot threads to ensure continuity; making sure for example that plot development C happens after A and B, not before, making sure characters don’t make an appearance after they have been bumped off, or suddenly pop out of nowhere before they have been properly introduced. Plot inconsistencies can disrupt the narrative for readers, so diagramming is really essential in keeping track of everything.

The premise in the book is that gods and other supernatural beings are real. One god in particular, Dionysus drives the plot. He is convinced that theAge Of Iron is coming to a close and a new Golden Age is about to dawn. With that in mind, He intends to put Himself in a position where He will be the top divinity. However as often happens, the best laid plans of gods and men don’t always work out as intended. The novel details the effects His actions have on people and the world at large.

Below is an excerpt from early in the book which takes place in Manhattan. The character Jillian West is a young fashion model. Charles Belliers is a talent scout for the agency employing her. Belliers is also a sexual predator, who routinely harasses the models in the agency, secure in the knowledge that he won’t get fired because of ‘people he knows’. Belliers attempts to sexually assault Jillian but she is rescued when Dionysus (posing as a mortal) unexpectedly shows up. The excerpt picks up where Dionysus and Jillian leave.

Note: The wine Charles finds is Maenad wine. In the novel, there are three levels of this wine which are all highly intoxicating as they are laced with narcotics. Level Three is the heavy duty stuff. Only highly trained Maenads are supposed to touch this stuff. If you are not an initiate and drink this…well….

Note: All characters are strictly fictional and not based on real people. In other words if you think Charles is based on you, please get psychiatric help. If you think you are Dionysus, definitely get help!

Note: Text is rated ‘R’ for nudity and potty language.

“I’ll get you a cab.” Said Dionysus as He and Jillian went back downstairs. “Do you think you’ll be all right?”

“Only if that pig doesn’t come after me. I don’t know how you knew I was in trouble but thank you! Thank you!”

“Charles will be having other problems before too long. He’s his own worst enemy in the end. But I can promise you, you won’t need to worry about him coming after you.”

“I hope you’re right. That was no idle threat he made, you know. I don’t know if I could file charges against him. It’s my word against his. I’d have to fight the whole way and even then the case would probably get dismissed.” She wiped angry tears from her face. “ Guys like him always seem to get away with stuff and nobody does anything about it.”

Now outside, Dionysus flagged down a cab, paid the driver for her, then handed a small business card to her.

“That’s my phone number. If you have any problems, and somehow I don’t think you will, just call me.”

“Thank you.” She looked hesitantly up at him. “Will I be seeing you again tomorrow?”

The smile on Dionysus’s face was glorious, washing away all the terror she had felt earlier.

“I can guarantee it.”

………………………..

Upstairs,Charles fumed as he zipped up his pants. This evening was a bust for sure. Would that bitch file charges? Sometime they did, sometime they didn’t. And how did that Greek prick get in here anyway? He was sure he had locked the door from the inside. Maybe he hadn’t fully latched it somehow. Looking at his hands he realized they were shaking not with rage but with terror. Dionysus had held him up like he was a kitten and hadn’t even broken into a sweat. How strong was that guy anyway?

More as a way to distract himself than out of a sense of tidiness, he began picking up the clothes rack. As he did so, he noticed a bottle of uncorked wine with a gleaming wine glass beside it sitting on the table where Jillian had stuck her drink. Where did that come from? He hadn’t noticed Dionysus carrying anything. Had he put it there? Charles could smell the wine tantalizing his nose. Going over, he poured half a glassful and looked at it.

The strangely alluring wine was dark garnet. He sniffed at it. It smelled like wine and yet it didn’t. Against his better judgment he took a swallow. And almost immediately regretted it. He coughed and spluttered. What the hell was this shit? He looked at the label. The lettering was in Greek and the picture on the label showed a mosaic image of a naked guy riding a lion or something. Some local artisan brew maybe? He licked his lips and after a moment took another sip.

To his amazement, the second swallow was better. It still tasted like something burped out of the Okefenokee Swamp but it really wasn’t that bad. A fine patina of sweat began forming on his skin. He drank the rest of the glass trying to analyze the flavor. He fancied himself a wine connoisseur but this tasted like nothing he had ever drunk before. After a moment, he poured a second glass all the way to the top. By the time he finished it, he had forgotten about Dionysus. The third glass made him forget about Jillian. After the fourth, he tossed the wineglass and began drinking directly from the bottle.

By the time he polished off the last drop, a blinding insight came to him. What the hell were clothes for? All this high fashion stuff was pure shit. Why was he even wasting a moment of his time with this? After chucking the empty bottle into a waste basket,he began peeling off his clothes and was amazed at how much better he felt totally naked. He should have done this a long time ago! He started walking toward the door but the floor seemed to have acquired an annoying tilt. Staggering he grabbed at a mannequin but its arm came off and he nearly fell. Righting himself he stared at the mannequin’s arm for a moment. On impulse he used it to scratch first his back then his groin. He began giggling like a village idiot. This was fun! He was going to take it home with him.

Something about the locked door bothered him but he couldn’t remember what it was. But he finally got it open and padded out into the hall. Getting off the studio carpeting and onto the linoleum in the hall chilled his feet but he made up his mind not to whine about it. Isn’t that what you got calluses for? It was probably a nice evening and his apartment in New Jersey wasn’t that far so he decided to walk home.

Nathan Jackson sat in the security office reading a girlie magazine. He had seen Dionysus and Jillian leave on the security cameras. The sight made him sigh. There he goes again, this time with a hot redhead. All the girls were buzzing about this guy and it wasn’t hard to understand why. Some people had all the luck, he thought with gloomy envy, this Greek guy was a major chick magnet and he couldn’t even get the waitress at the restaurant to look twice at him. He buried his face deeper into the magazine. Two of the security cameras were out again, he’d have to do something about that. Engrossed in the centerfold he failed to notice the functional camera showing the talent agent strolling down the stairs. But the security office door was open so Nathan spotted Charles’ s naked ass out of the corner of his eye just as Belliers exited the building.

“Shit!” swore Nathan tossing down the magazine and sprinting out the door after him.

“Sir! Sir!” He caught up with Belliers starting to make a right turn. Charles had a mannequin’s arm propped on his shoulder. “It’s kind of chilly out here. Don’t you think you better put a coat on?”

“What the hell for?” Belliers glared at him affronted. The wine fumes he exhaled made Nathan’s eyes water. “It’s a nice night. I’m walking home.”

The temperature read 55 degrees Fahrenheit the last time Nathan looked at the thermometer. This guy was definitely not feeling anything. The weird thing was, he seemed to be sweating a lot.

“I really think you should put something on, sir.” He took hold of Belliers’ arm, trying to steer him back into the building. “You left your coat in the cloak room. At least put that on.” There was a glazed mad look in Belliers’ eyes that reminded Nathan of a YouTube video he had seen showing a rabid raccoon.

Belliers ignored him. Instead he began staring in fascination at the marquee canopy shielding the entrance. He shook off Nathan’s hand.

“Hey! Look at the fucking trampoline!” He screeched like a kid. Before Nathan could stop him, he tossed the mannequin’s arm into Nathan’s face and began clambering up the side of the building, grasping the concrete facade indentations with his fingers and toes like a squirrel. Throwing aside the arm, Nathan lunged at him but although Belliers was in his fifties and overweight, he was shockingly nimble, evading the security guard’s attempts to grab his ankles.

It was at this critical juncture that the squad car containing Officers Joseph Burrows and Jacob Armstrong came cruising by. It was rookie Jacob’s first evening on the job. His field training officer Joseph had driven him around showing him the basics. They ticketed a few speeders but otherwise it had been quiet so Joseph spent most of the time telling Jacob his personal war stories. It was nearing the end of their shift.

“I think tomorrow I’ll let you do the driving. Do you have any questions?”

“Um, yeah.” Said Jacob looking out the car window at the fashion agency they were driving by. “Why is that naked guy climbing up the building?”

“Aw shit.” groaned Joseph. “Ok, here’s where it gets interesting.” He pulled the squad car over to the curb. “Make sure your gun is tucked out of sight. He’s probably drunk or high. The last thing we want is for him to get hold of a gun, especially if he’s combative.”

“Right.” After putting in a call to the dispatcher, they exited the car and approached cautiously. By now Charles was balanced precariously on the edge of the door canopy gauging how far to jump. The guy trying to coax him down was building security. He noted Joseph and Jacob nearing with obvious relief.

“He’s blotto and I can’t get him to come down. I’m calling 911, if that’s ok.”

“Fine.” said Officer Joseph, not taking his eyes off the nude guy who looked like he was getting ready to jump onto the canopy. “Hey, friend, you may not want to do that. I don’t think it’ll hold you.”

Belliers was in too exalted a state to pay any attention to the annoying people shouting at him from the sidewalk. The canopy seemed to ripple an invitation to jump on it. With a joyous shriek he launched himself and landed spreadeagled on the canvas. While it didn’t rip, it abruptly folded around him and the entire canopy frame collapsed. The two officers used the opportunity to jump on him and hold him down.

It turned out to be more difficult than they thought. Belliers fought like a demon to extricate himself from the canopy, swearing a blue streak the whole time. Jacob and Joseph tried to use the canvas to hold the drunken man in place but Charles had little trouble ripping through the material. With regret, Joseph pulled out his taser and tried subduing him. Belliers jerked a little from the zaps but otherwise seemed unaffected. He didn’t even grunt but his flailing grew wilder.

By now two foot patrol cops had shown up and added their muscle to the struggle. The security guard joined in. Jacob’s jaw took a painful clip from the drunk’s fist. There were five guys holding onto him but Belliers still kept trying to get up. The wine fumes added a rank smell to the air but the rookie began suspecting the subject was intoxicated on more than just booze. The swearing was giving way to an incoherent babbling that sounded like the glossolalia Jacob used to hear as a kid at the evangelical meetings his parents attended.

“Shit! Watch it!” yelled one of the cops. “He’s pissing a bucket!”

A stream of urine soared into the air, spraying back and forth like a lawn sprinkler as Belliers continued struggling.

The ambulance finally pulled up. Fortunately whatever alcoholic dynamo was powering Charles began winding down and they were able to finally load him onto the stretcher where the EMT’s firmly strapped him in place. As the ambulance drove off, Jacob and Joseph looked mournfully down at their urine soaked uniforms.

“He hosed us pretty good, didn’t he?” Said Jacob.

“That he did, little buddy.” replied Joseph shaking his head. “Good thing our shift is just about over.”

“I wish ours was.” said one of the street cops. Their uniforms were wet as well.

On the way back to headquarters, they had to lower the windows to air out as much of the remarkably pungent urine smell as they could.

“Well, that was interesting.” remarked Jacob laconically putting on some nitrile gloves they had in the car.

“That it was.” Replied Joseph, who then laughed. “Never a dull moment in the Big Apple, kid! Never a dull moment.”

Mosaic of god Dionysus

Scenes of October

The month is winding down in a whirl of autumn leaves and chilly breezes hinting that winter is not far off.

Gold and red autumn leaves over house


Foliage was especially bright this year thanks to regular rainfall after the semi-dry conditions of the past few years. The only drawback to it all is having to rake the leaves up afterwards. Some people toss their leaves after bagging them up as if it was all some sort of rubbish. But doing that robs the soil of critical nutrients which would have been recycled and reused by the trees if left to break down naturally. My method of disposal involves my composter. Once that is full, there is a chicken wire leaf bin. Since that is mostly full anyway, that fills up rapidly and the remainder I dump in the small patch of woods in back of the house.

As all this starts to break down, fungi of all sorts get to work. If it wasn’t for these hidden allies, leaves, and deadwood would remain on the surface of the ground, their nutrients inaccessible, the material becoming a potential fire hazard. So a near invisible clean up crew of earthworms, millipedes, mites, insect larvae and other micro-critters start chowing down on all this material.

As they chew up, digest and process the leaves, an enormous tribe of fungi begin the next step of reducing it even further. The vast majority of fungal forms live unnoticed in the soil under our feet sending microscopic filaments through all the leaf waste. But every so often they send up a fruiting body called a mushroom or toadstool. These can come in all forms and sizes from mini-mushrooms,

Tiny mushroom next to lettuce leaf.

to dinner-plate sized.

mushroom wide as open hand.

By the time they are done, the result is fragrant humus, ready for the next generation of plants.

By the end of October, wildflowers have largely gone by with the occasional exception of a late blooming dandelion or tardy fall wild aster. At this time of year, it is the seed heads of these flowers which are the main feature. They are often food for migrating birds and small rodents such as chipmunks, voles and mice. The seed heads themselves can often be as striking as the flowers. The picture below is of a patch of goldenrod gone to seed. The seedheads look more like flowers than the flowers do!

goldenrod seed heads

Last but not least it wouldn’t be October without that classic fixture of every end-of-month decoration.

pile of pumpkins

Happy Halloween everyone!

Trickster – the oldest of them all

Images of Coyote the trickster in his animal form
Trickster Coyote

In last month’s posting, I mentioned Coyote and Spider (also called Anansi) who are two trickster characters. For those who aren’t familiar with the concept of the trickster, he (very rarely she) is an ageless being who, depending on the story being told, is clever, sly or clumsy and dim-witted. He’s always breaking social rules, violating the laws of physics, pulling practical jokes and cheerfully ripping off stuff. He also performs acts which are beneficial such as stealing fire and giving it to humans, showing them how to plant crops, even how to have sex!

This curious immortal who can take the form either of a human or animal, can be found throughout the world under various incarnations. In North America he is seen as Coyote, Rabbit or Raven. In West Africa, he is Anansi, the spider. Norse mythology had Loki as the trickster. Pacific Ocean cultures had the divine being Maui as the trickster and native Australians had a character Bamapana notorious for his bad language, crude jokes and general upsetting of the cultural applecart.

That such a being can be found in traditional cultures all over the world suggests he arose very early in human history. The human global diaspora dates back many tens of thousands of years, with native americans coming in waves, probably as early as 30,000 years ago. Native Australians arrived on the island continent 50,000 years ago.

So the trickster certainly dates back before then, perhaps as much as 100,000 years ago or more. When did our ancestors start telling stories? Probably when they started talking and preserving oral traditions as a way to survive. Part of this oral tradition involved social rules, where to find food, how to get along with neighbors both human and non-human. Relations with the spiritual Otherworld no doubt arose at the same time. And whenever you have rules, there is inevitably a rule-breaker. If there’s a rule, Trickster is sure to break it.

Tricksters are not noted for their physical strength. No Heracles or Atlas here. Instead they rely on their wits, scheming and tricking people to get what they want, whether it’s food, money, sex, what have you. They’re chronic shapeshifters, constantly altering their forms and occasionally even their genders! His antics range from bumbling (think Wile Coyote) to outright malicious (think Loki). Reading over many of the myths about Trickster, he come across much like an amoral sociopath. Yet at the same time he makes it a point to right certain imbalances. The most common form this takes is the theft of fire. Usually fire is being hoarded by certain divinities who refuse to share this gift. So the trickster devises a scheme to get fire away from its owners and into the hands of humans.

Campfire - which Trickster stole for us

Some stories have Trickster having a hand in creating the world. His reasons for this? Well, it’s not for the joy of creation or vaunting himself as a creator to be worshiped. It’s for the very practical reason of giving people a place to sit. It’s the same with fire theft. The goal isn’t to perform a noble deed but just to get light in a place of darkness, for warmth and to cook food (Trickster’s always hungry).

Even the chronic rule breaking serves a purpose. Trickster loves to turn things upside down and inside out if possible. The effect of this is to break people out of rigid patterns so new patterns can be developed. He mirrors the forces of nature which can do the same thing; volcanoes spewing out molten lava and hot ash which breaks down becoming fertile soil, hurricanes which redistribute moisture and heat, forest fires which burn out old dead vegetation and create ashes which nourish new plants and lightning bolts which contribute to the nitrogen cycle so critical for growth. Destructive? Yes! Creative? Also yes!

The trickster has lost none of his allure in the 21st century. A popular character in the current Marvel Comic movies is Loki, the mischievous, malicious yet charming troublemaker who plagues the heroic Thor. Another is the cartoon character Bugs Bunny always getting the upper hand on his foes and having fun doing it. Wile E Coyote is often mentioned as a trickster character but I’m more inclined to think it’s really the Road Runner who consistently outsmarts his pursuer and pulls off more than a few tricks of his own. I can’t imagine their appeal ever fading. All these tricksters embody the chaotic side of life, ever changing, sometimes destructive but definitely never boring.

Bugs Bunny - a modern day trickster
A modern day trickster

Plant Galls

On investigating plants throughout the summer, it is not unusual to come across a bizarre looking growth on a plant, many times looking much like a tumor or a wart. These are galls and they are produced by a variety of parasitic organisms such as viruses, fungi, mites and insect grubs.

Galls come in an astonishing assortment of shapes, colors and sizes, depending on which organism created them and which plant is being parasitized. Gardeners may bemoan the appearance of these funky growths. But for the most part, they don’t really harm the plant unless it is already sickly or is heavily laden with galls, they only render it a bit unsightly to look at.

The invading organism releases a substance which irritates the surrounding plant cells which begin forming a microhabitat for the parasite to live in. Insect galls will often have nutritious starches and other materials which may insure that the grub remains in one spot and doesn’t entirely devour its host.

‘

The above picture shows a small clump of galls on a wild grape vine in my back yard. They are likely the product of grape midges that hatch from eggs laid by the mother inside the stem of the vine which then forms the gall. There are a variety of grape midges each with its own life cycle. The vine itself appears uninjured and as long as the damage remains minimal, I will leave it be.

This particular gall was found on a non spiny member of the thistle family (not sure of identity). The gall extends several inches along the stem, swelling it but not apparently interfering with the growth of the weed as it managed to produce flowers. Until I can firmly identify which plant it is, the identity of the gall maker will be uncertain.

This odd bulbous growth found on a jewelweed plant is also a gall. It is formed by the larva of the jewelweed gall midge. The egg producing the larva is planted by the mother into a forming flower bud which then creates this odd structure looking much like a Christmas ornament. Once it has matured enough, it will chew its way out, drop to the ground and winter over.

Galls can take many whimsical shapes, some looking so much like part of the plant that if you aren’t familiar with the species, you might not realize you are looking at a plant gall. One is the willow pinecone gall which resembles its namesake. It looks quite ordinary until you recall willow trees don’t have pine cones. Oak apple galls often look so much like apples, you could be forgiven for thinking it was an actual fruit. But a closer look reveals its true nature, an oddly structured home for the little grub inside.

It’s easy to pitch a hissy fit when you see these strange formations on prized plants in your garden. But for the most part they are harmless. Many of these larva and mites hide inside the plant to avoid predators such as birds and other insects who would gladly chow down on them if the opportunity presented itself. What looks like a nuisance to you is actually lunch to somebody else. If you really have to, just pinch off the leaf or odd growth and remember it’s merely another startling reminder of some of the astonishing adaptations to be found in Nature.

The Perils Of Gardening

All of us dream of having a garden like this –

But wind up with something that looks like this –

Well, maybe not that bad. But with all the hungry critters and erratic weather, it’s not easy to produce something that’s even halfway between the above photos. So how does one ward off persistent fence crashers such as deer and woodchuck, the two large beasts that cause me the most trouble?

Put up fencing. Lots and lots of fencing.

Chicken wire is also a good defense. Here are some of my peas under a force field of chicken wire.

And some of my wax beans with fencing and wire mesh.

I found a wire mesh cage stashed up in the top of the garage when cleaning out the detritus of 50 plus years. It makes a nice wire cage for the bush squash I am trying out.

Will any of this be effective in making it possible to harvest some veggies later on in the summer? Only time will tell. Stay tuned.

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I am happy to report the sale of a third story to the quarterly magazine Into The Ruins.
Thank you Mr. Caris!