posted by WDavid at 9/24/2006 08:09:00 PM
Character Sketches
Pochotl Axayaca
In a small city, the First Priest of even a minor god like Ehecatl has some social standing, but this minimal standing is not enough for Pochotl. He was born the fifth son of a minor noble in a far off colony of the Yucatec Dominion. He has had to settle for cast offs and hand-me-downs from his older and more popular siblings his entire life. He attended second-rate schools and was consecrated to a second-rate god because none of the important temples would take him. A lifetime of being taught to accept the will of the gods did not sit well with him and he has done everything in his power to struggle up the ranks in the priesthood of Ehecatl. Now that he has attained First Priest status in this little city he sees it as nothing more than a stepping stone to another posting in a bigger city or even the capital of the Dominion. With the unfortunate deaths of the First and Second Priests of Tlaloc during the unlucky days of Uayeb, it seems that Ehecatl has finally smiled on him. The Festival of Atlcualo is only one day away and they will undoubtedly ask him to put aside his role as Festival Second to lead the prestigious ceremonies. This should get the attention of other temples and speed his climb up the ladder of power.
Three-Crocodile
Even a small city can be a scary place for a thirteen-year-old thrust into the limelight before he’s ready and Three-Crocodile has never seen himself as ready for anything. Orphaned as an infant when his parents were swept away in a flood, Three-Crocodile was given to the temple of Tlaloc to be raised in the ways of the god. He studied hard and learned his lessons well, but he’s always been unsure of himself and has never sought to distinguished himself in any way. Some call him Cocozca’s Shadow because he’s never far from the First Priest’s side. Three-Crocodile was hoping to live his live out as a minor priest in a minor town, but the bizarre death of both the First and Second Priests of Tlaloc at the cenote on the last day of Uayeb has left him as the only other priest to Tlaloc in the city on the eve of the Festival of Atlcualo. While he’d like nothing better than to melt into the background and let someone else lead the ceremonies, his gut tells him that he owes a debt to Tlaloc for saving him from the flood that killed his parents and to the now dead First Priest who raised him. Three-Crocodile is scared and shy. He worries that the prayer for rains and a fruitful growing season is too important to trust to a boy who hasn’t even had his naming day yet?
Excerpt from "Festival Of Atlcualo"
By W. David MacKenzie
© 2006
“I first want to tell you both how sorry I am at the loss of Cocozca and Mazatl. The First and Second of Tlaloc will be greatly missed.” The First of Huitzilopochtli was an elderly man and his voice was gravelly from too many years of ecstatic ritualism. “However, with Tlaloc’s Festival of Atlcualo beginning tomorrow, we must find a way to proceed.”
Three-Crocodile’s throat tightened at the memory of yesterday’s tragic events. He opened his mouth to thank the city’s High Priest for his kind words, but he was cut off by Pochotl’s reedy voice.
“I could not agree more, Lord Tayauh. As First of Ehecatl I stand ready to assume full control of Atlcualo.” Pochotl sat taller in his chair as he spoke. “The god of the winds plays a significant role in the sacrifice to beseech the rains and I see no other way to proceed.”
“Lord...” Three-Crocodile’s near whisper disappeared under the husky voice of the elder priest.
“I appreciate your offer, Pochotl, but I and several of the other Firsts think it would be best to delay the Festival for a few days so that we can request a new First of Tlaloc from the capital.” Silence filled the room briefly as Pochotl and Three-Crocodile absorbed the implications of the High Priest’s words.
Three-Crocodile leaned forward “With all due...”
“Lord Tayauh! That is a dangerous plan.” Pochotl rose from his chair and ticked off points with his fingers. “Last year the rains began late and ended early. The maize crop was nearly lost. The water in the wells sank lower than anyone can remember. Tlaloc is already angry with our community. Do you dare risk delaying his ceremonies?”
“My point ex...” Three-Crocodile began but Lord Tayauh, still spry in his old age, sprang to his feet, tipping his chair backward in his zeal.
“And how much favor will Tlaloc find in having the First of Ehecatl officiating at his festival?” The men stood eye to eye, neither one blinking.
“I’ll do it.” Three-Crocodile was surprised to hear his voice booming through the room.
Distracted from their standoff by Three-Crocodile’s unexpected outburst, the two priests turned to face him. The First of Huitzilopochtli looked thoughtful but Pochotl’s face was a vicious sneer. “You? Cocozca’s Shadow?”
Three-Crocodile flinched at the derisive nickname and nearly retreated back into his shell, but the sound of his dead master’s name gave him strength and he stood to face Pochotl. “Yes, me. I can lead the festival.”
“You’re just a boy.” Pochotl stepped toward him and prodded the youth’s chest as he listed Three-Crocodile’s deficiencies. “You have not completed your training; you’ve never officiated over a complete ceremony let alone an entire festival; and you’ve never sacrificed anything more substantial than a squash.”
Three-Crocodile deflated a little with each point Pochotl made--all were completely true and he was about to collapse back into his chair when the old priest spoke.
“Could you really do it?”
Pochotl turned to gape at Tayauh. “You’re not seriously...”
“Be still, Pochotl.” The First of Ehecatl folded into his chair and the old man’s scowl softened as he repeated his question to the boy. “Could you do it?”
Three-Crocodile stood in silent thought for several moments before he replied in a soft but steady tone. “I saw Lord Cocozca lead the festival four times; I know the rites; and I am the only priest of Tlaloc within three days of this city.”
“Priest? Ha!”
“Pochotl, I will tolerate no further disrespect for a fellow priest.”
Three-Crocodile’s spirit soared at the support of the city’s primary religious leader.
“My son, you have spoken the one basic truth of this crisis. You are the only person available to us who is trained in the rituals and consecrated to Tlaloc. You will lead the Festival of Atlcualo.”
Pochotl was out of his chair and striding toward the door before the First of Huitzilopochtli finished speaking. “This is a mistake, Lord Tayauh. Mark my words--the boy will bring disaster down upon us all.”
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WDavid,
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WDavid,
WDavid,
Ruth,
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Sunday, September 17, 2006
posted by WDavid at 9/17/2006 04:55:00 PM
Prelude To Sacrifice
by W. David MacKenzie
(c) 2006
I bounced my shoulders several times to settle the ceremonial feathered cape into a comfortable hang as Seven-Rabbit tied the beaded loin cloth around my middle. I sucked in my belly self-consciously as he worked at the knots and made a mental note to cut back on the sugared maize cakes. I picked up the folded itinerary lying on the shelf and scanned down the glyphs drawn in Seven-Rabbit's meticulous penmanship.
"Looks like we'll finish the ceremonies today," I dropped the paper back on the shelf and checked my face paint in the mirror.
"Yes, Lord Priest, there are only a dozen outlanders remaining."
"I've told you many times, you need not be so formal when we're alone."
Seven-Rabbit hung his head slightly. "Yes sir, but you're wearing the holy cloak and the turquoise collar."
I tousled the boy’s hair. "Lad, we're on a tiny colony island on the edge of the Eastern Ocean. It's amazing to me that Huitzilopochtli can even find our temple to look down on these ceremonies." Seven-Rabbit hid his face in his hands in fearful reverence. I shook my head. Perhaps he would loosen up one day, but it wouldn’t be today.
I faced the niche that held the symbol of my office. The sacred headdress of gold and feathers was a thousand years of ritual caging my soul. I was no more a free man than the outlanders, no less a prisoner for my chains being tradition and ceremony. The midday chime of the Xin Da Lu clock drew my eyes and refocused my mind. Sighing, I lifted the headdress and placed it firmly upon my smooth pate then turned to the arch leading to the temple terrace.
Seven-Rabbit knelt before me. His head was bowed and in his up-stretched hands he cradled the ceremonial flint knife. I grasped the hilt of the stone blade and drew the jagged edge lightly across Seven-Rabbit's palms. My fresh cut sliced across the web of old scars on the boy's hands and blood welled to the surface.
"I am blessed, Lord Priest," he said and scuttled backward out of my path.
We both had parts to play in the ritual, he the obedient chac giving first blood to a greedy god, and I the feral warrior priest intent on sacrifice. I put on my best god-crazed sneer and walked out into the glaring midday sun. The crowd gathered at the foot of the temple pyramid cheered. Their excitement fueled me. My hands flew up and out in practiced moves—the fingers of my left hand spread wide, the fingers of my right hand gripping the ritual blade. I shook my arms and gritted my teeth. My eyes, unnaturally wide and fervent, drew gasps from commoners and merchants alike, and I imagined that even the temple architects and engineers took a step back in the small reed gondolas dangling beneath their tethered hot air balloons.
I was ready for the show.
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WDavid,
WDavid,
2 Comments:
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This is the first piece of fiction in my First Empires project and also my assignment for a writing class in which I'm currently enrolled.
The assignment was: Write a scene in which elements of your imaginary world are brought to the fore through any means other than having a character remark on or explain something. Weave startling setting elements into a scene that puts the reader into a new world. You have up to 500 words.
Please tell me if I accomplished this assigned task and how you think I did it or failed to do it. Any other comments are welcome as well. Obviously, this is just a scene, not an entire story, so don't judge it harsh for being plotless. :-)By
WDavid, at 9/17/2006 05:00:00 PM
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Here are the comments from my classmates...
WDavid: Classmates...when commenting on my assignments please keep in mind that I'm less interested in the things you LIKED or what was GOOD about the piece and more interested in what you DID NOT LIKE or what was BAD in the story. Be as harsh and nitpicky as possible. Thanks! :-)
Cathy Chance: Ok, in the first paragraph, you started each sentence with "I". It might read easier if this was varied more. When your narrator asks Seven-Rabbit to be less formal, he uses very formal speech himself...it sorta jars. You do much better in the next paragraph spoken by the narrator. I'm sure as the story progresses, you'll answer the questions about just what this society is.
WDavid: Cathy...Thanks...That's exactly the type of critique I'm looking for. How's this for a re-write on the first paragraph?
I bounced my shoulders several times to settle the ceremonial feathered cape into a comfortable hang as Seven-Rabbit tied the beaded loin cloth around my middle. As the boy worked at the intricate knots I sucked in my belly self-consciously and made a mental note to cut back on the sugarded maize cakes. The day's itinerary lying on the shelf caught my eye and I picked it up to scan down the glyphs drawn in Seven-Rabbit's meticulous penmanship.
...and this for the too formal line...
I've told you many times, there's no need to be so formal when we're alone.
...The society is an alternate history meso-america...kind of an aztec/maya melding. You can read more about my world at www.firstempires.com...would love any comments there as well.
Kim Huett: Hi, David. Forgive me, but I liked it! I think it's awesome that you would explore PreColumbian America (or something like it). Now, what seemed strange to me was the modern-day awareness that eating maize cakes would have an effect on the belly and that one should cut back on them. I was also uncertain that as to whether/not this god/man would be so down-to-earth. That seemed very unlikely to me. However, I have not done research, and I don't know what such a person would have been like. I would think that such a person would really buy into his godliness and not give a darn if Seven-Rabbit was comfortable around him or not. But, who's to say? Maybe that's part of what interested me...being able to relate to the Lord Priest. A well-writ piece.
WDavid: Thanks Kim...Hey, I like praise, don't get me wrong, but the nitty gritty critiquing will be more helful in improving my style. :-) You'll see more of this in assignment 3 when we get into character sketches, but the Lord Priest (I'm still considering names) is not your typical pseudo-aztec model. His life has disillusioned him and the beaurocracy has pretty much cast him aside. He's not full of himself but he still feels a rush when the adulation of the crowd flows through him like an actor on a stage...or when, as will become evendent as the story evolves, he is planning a bit of deceit and revenge to regain his deserved place in the priesthood and a compass for his life. As for the maize cakes...well, he's living a mostly soft and cushy life on a carribean island colony so he's had time to notice how soft living equates to soft body.
laf: This is a well described scene ... and I do think your re-write is stronger than your original.
WDavid: LAF...Thanks...I am curious if anyone has visited the First Empires web site and if they have any comments on the world I outlined there. All comments welcome and encouraged.
KJ: Good writing. Show don't tell. I know you want criticism, but I have to give you praise. You have done research obviously on the ancient culture of the Aztec/Inca, etc. How ever, your psychological picture is more from someone of the modern culture in the way they associate with each other. Meso-America is a land of superstitions (to us). But then, what do I know, I didn't live then either. but again, perhaps you have seen something that archeologists lack, real people. Good writing.
Robert: Wow. You didn't leave me much to critique. The scene really evokes the feel of a futuristic Aztec society with a good dollop of humour mixed in. The one thing that I thought didn't quite work was the part "My eyes, unaturally wide and fervent". The description here is coming from the character himself, and he would not be in a position to see how his own eyes looked. It's possible that he knows his eyes look like this because it is an expression he is putting on, but this isn't really made clear from the text. Otherwise, I thought this was quite good.By
WDavid, at 9/21/2006 05:57:00 AM
Saturday, September 16, 2006
posted by WDavid at 9/16/2006 08:31:00 PM
There hasn't been too much happening here on PPTP lately. I've been away for a while working on the set up for a new project which I'm calling "First Empires" and you can check it out HERE if you like. I welcome any comments you might wish to give on the concepts or the background essay I posted there. I'm working on the first story for the FE world and I hope to post it here in installments over the next few weeks.
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Saturday, September 02, 2006
posted by Ruth at 9/02/2006 11:04:00 AM
Symbiosis
I don’t know why I sat down here today in front of this computer screen except that I needed to write “something”. What that something is, I don’t yet know.
Outside my window a light breeze rustles the leaves of the tiny Silver Maple, and the giant Cedar nearby shivers as though winter is nigh. It is not. The heat of early September in North Central Florida hangs heavy in the air, stifling any thoughts of leaving my air conditioned haven and sitting on the screened porch to write.
In the uppermost branches of a scraggly Crepe Myrtle near the front fence, the last few dots of bright pink petals linger, perhaps afraid of the long fall to the sandy earth below. Grey/green mossy beards hang from nearby branches as they do in most of the trees growing in my yard and throughout Florida. Spanish moss is said not to kill the trees on which it hangs and sways in symbiotic splendor… but, one must wonder, when, heavy laden with their unwanted guests, they do die, and dot the landscape with their long-bearded skeletons.
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Fred MacKenzie,
Ruth,
WDavid,
Fred MacKenzie,
4 Comments:
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Sure has been quiet around here. Where did everybody go?
Well I will say I liked this piece. I can comment on the writing (nicely done), but I wonder if I am too close to the situation to comment on the topic itself. Which is why I haven't commented on this piece sooner; I was hoping somebody else would first. -
Yes, it has been quiet around here until David started posting again recently. The last few sentences, which have now been removed, were merely observations... the next leap of thought from one life form to another...I did not mean to offend anyone.
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Ruth, at 9/27/2006 12:18:00 PM
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I don't see a situation here for Fred to be "too close to". I guess poetry really is beyond me. I see a nice little essay with an observation of a tree, a poignant comment about petals being afraid to fall, and a lament for trees lost to a parasitic moss. What did I miss?
By
WDavid, at 9/27/2006 12:32:00 PM
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David, if your first reading of this piece was just before your comment, then what you missed had already been removed.
Mom, I don't think you should have removed anything from your writing, I liked it better with the original ending. I certainly wasn't offended.
5 Comments:
Here is assignment three from my current writing class. The assignment was to write a character sketch for a protagonist and an antoginist (250 words for each) and then to write a 500 word dialogue scene to show conflict between them. My dialogue scene is about 150 words too long. Other than that, please be as hash as possible in telling my what I've done wrong here and how you think I should change it to make it right.
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WDavid, at 9/24/2006 08:14:00 PM
Okay, I only have a couple of comments. #1, I don't think there should be a question mark at the end of Three-Crocodile's sketch since the sentence was not written as a question. #2, I find it very difficult reading these strange names since I don't know a thing about the culture you're writing about and you haven't offered a single clue as to how to pronounce them.
By
Ruth, at 9/27/2006 04:32:00 AM
Ruth...
Thanks for your comments and for struggling through the piece. :-)
The Question mark is a remnant from the first draft that didn't get changed. Sorry. :-)
As for the names...the class members echoed your comments. The names were too unfamiliar and hard to pronounce. I'll post the class comments next along with a pronunciation guide.
By
WDavid, at 9/27/2006 06:48:00 AM
Instructor DeChancie: Again shows a great cultural depth and penetration of an alien worldview. Very imaginative story material here. I'm impressed with this one as well.
Cathy Chance: Well done. Personally, I have a hard time with these names, but I understand the setting demands it. Unfortunately, I have a tendency to skip over named I can't pronounce, so it's easy to lose the thread of what's going on. (I've heard others make the same complaint.) Not sure what you can do about it, given the setting.
Joe: Quetzalcoatl, the setting is intriguing, as are the characters, but there are too many exotic names bursting off of the page at one time. They become a noisy cluster that distracts the eye. I didn’t have a problem with the names themselves, but I think that you need less proper nouns, and more common nouns to give me a clearer view of your world. The tension created by the religious politicking that occurs in what appears to be a theocracy is very enticing to me as a reader. The classic tale of a young man trying to adapt to, and also change the world he is maturing in has set well with audiences since our ancestors first began gathering around an evening fire. Well done. Given the quality of your writing, I have no doubt that you can pull this story off. Stay true to your vision!
laf: Goodness ... this is really good, strong dialogue, clearly defined conflict, and sort of the 'coming of age' of Three Crocodile (why wouldn't that be plural, by the way?). I have to echo the concern on the names, perhaps because so many players and gods (plus the city and festival names) are introduced so quickly, we don't have time to assimilate what (to us) are very foreign, unpronounceable names. Right off the get-go, paragraph 1, we have 5 such names alone; in the third paragraph, you add 3 more new names. Not sure if you could use only the titles or only the names for selected characters (to slow down the volume of names) or if you could consider anglicizing some items (e.g. the festival name) ... it's hard to suggest because you don't want to lose the wonderful feel for the culture and richness that you've developed (which is excellent). Other than that, I have no real criticism. Your characters feel true and are acting from genuine motives; the dialogue is real (and fitting language for what would be upper class - the priesthood); your plot is interesting; and I look forward to reading more.
WDavid: In a book I could add a glossary at the end with a pronunciation guide...but I've never seen that done in a short story. Here's a brief tutorial if you're interested in pronouncing Nahuatl (The Aztec language)...
"A" sounds like "AH"
"E" sounds like "AY"
"I" sounds like "EE"
"O" sounds like "OH"
"U" sounds like "OO"
"C" usually sounds like "K"
“CE” sounds like “SAY”
“CI” sounds like “SEE”
“CH” sounds like the beginning of “CHEESE”
"X" sounds like "SH"
"TL" sound like the end of "CATTLE"
The emphasis is always on the next to the last syllable.
So, the names are...
Pochotl Axayaca (Poe-CHO-tl ah-shah-YAH-kah)
Ehecatl (ay-hay-CA-tl)
Tayauh (tah-YAH-oo) (the "H" is silent here)
Cocozca (koe-KOHZ-ka)
Mazatl (mah-ZAH-tl)
Huitzilopochtli (whooeet-zill-oh-POHCH-tlee)
Tlaloc (TLAH-lohk)
Atlcualo (ah-tl-KWAHL-oh)
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WDavid, at 9/27/2006 06:51:00 AM
Even when you know how to pronounce them they don't roll easily off the tongue! Thanks for the short lesson though.
By
Ruth, at 9/27/2006 12:03:00 PM
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