Finally the First Freaky Folklore Friday

Today is the launch of Folktale Friday… or if we really are dog enthusiasts, FolkTAIL Friday.

I want to begin by telling you the story in which I feel I had the greatest impact as a teacher. This will play in beautifully in illustrating what I wish to share with you… something deep in the heart.

During my fourteen-year-run as a school teacher, I spent a year as a high school drama coach. In those years, I had had multiple moments in which I felt I had made big strides with my students. Moments in which I was glad I was a teacher.

But there was one event that stood out more than any other. And it was NOT planned this way. It just happened.

After a successful musical production the year before, I remained as a drama coach at a small 2A high school in southwestern Colorado. The production I had directed was so successful, the drama program went from on life support to running the marathon in two weekends.

Drama in the eyes of the students went from a lame extracurricular activity to something extremely attractive. And when the following fall rolled around, I agreed to have drama club every Thursday evening at around 5 p.m.

Something like 60 students showed up!

Freshmen to Seniors, a good mix of boys and girls, all came looking to try their hand at acting. I was thrilled! And each student knew that my eyes were upon their skills as actors and so the two hour session each week was a passive audition to the next major production.

Drama club Thursdays were intended to only run an hour. We never went less than ninety minutes and more often up to two hours. Everyone wanted to be there. We never lost a member once we got started.

Throughout the fall, my sixty thesbians got into a discussion circle where we talked about the theatre. We got into groups and did various activities like on that hit show, Whose Line Is It, Anyway?

The shyer underclassmen came out of their shells. Each girl and boy began to show confidence in getting up in front of others. We had an amazing time!

Then this particular night came. Something I will never forget. The skits were hilarious. Everyone was laughing at the others’ performances.

And I realized just then that there was something missing. So, I called them back into the circle. I can only paraphrase what I told them at that moment. But is was like the heavens opened up and told me what to say:

“Each week, I have been watching you all blossom into real actors. Each theme, each skit, you find that it is a rush whenever you make the room laugh at something you did… an emotional facial expression, an ad lib line loaded with irony, a sudden shift in the plot.

And EVERYONE is laughing at what you created!

YOU!

You have the power now to make a lot of people laugh…

But what if you turned the storyline about and did something unexpected?”

(Their eyes are completely glued on me at this point. Not a sound apart from my voice is heard.)

“What if you stood on the main stage of a crowded theatre and you could make every single person watching your performance… CRY?

What if you had portrayed that romantic person so well that when your soulmate, your lover, the person you were on the verge of confessing your love to, suddenly died as part of the act… and you played it SO WELL, the entire house is weeping?”

(Insert a collective sigh around the entire circle)

“That is power!” I continued. “And you have the ability to do that! YOU can control the emotions of 400 people in a theatre, just by the way you play your part.”

The kids went home that evening to their cars.

Without any more talk, they were all riding on air.

Not a single foot touched the pavement as they left the building…

…including mine.

I am sharing this with you, because this is the standard by which I write. My stories have to be plausible, even in a fantasy. My characters are trained and instructed to play their parts to the best of their abilities.

If done well, they will make you laugh (reference to the French drunken sailors, Bouffee le Ph’art and Flaque le Turd)

If done well, they will make you cry (Marielle watches as her lover, Jacob Lake is slain by the villain Dargo de Montebank.

If done well, you may be biting your nails (Marielle is caught inside a cave, the villain occupies the exit, how on earth will she get out of such a fix?)

If done well, they will keep you constantly guessing (would Valencio really blackmail the friars at St. Fideles Abbey in order to find the coveted artifact?)

And most importantly:

If done well, they will make you introspective about your dreams and your own role as hero in your own life.

That is what a good author does.

I believe Abbot and the Stone will be my best work to date. I say this because throughout the writing processes, I have matured tremendously, found new ways to present a scene, and how to lead my reader’s emotions in a false direction in order to make the story a fun ride.

That is why this novel took me so long. I kept finding new ways forward!

Surprises… plausible surprises in a novel are a wonderful thing.

You will find I deceive you in subtle ways just to enhance the reading experience. I write not for me. I write to be read. I write for your entertainment.

Abbot and the Stone brings depth in every corner of the story. Each character plays a major role almost as if they are the leading actor on their own stage. They each have their own story to tell.

Including the Dire Wolf Dog Mont Blanc.

Abbot and the Stone is about a young archeologist stuck under the tutelage of elite archeologist Dr. Edgar Cumberland. He wants to break free.

And he finds himself faced with an opportunity of a lifetime when he discovers that a sacred stone from the Holy Land disappeared on its way to Paris during a crusade in 1270. He is uncertain whether to go rogue and pursuit the mystery of its disappearance. Going rogue has its consequences.

And as a reader, you follow the course of the things he uncovers along the way, wondering if he will eventually discover where the stone ended up.

Is it at the abbey in the small Alps village of Amourdieu? Or is it elsewhere?

And why do the townsfolk refuse to share what they know about the mystery?

The book has started its editing processes. We’re ambling toward the finish line. Secretariat has rounded the final turn twenty-seven lengths ahead of the racehorses.

Once my part is finished, Jennifer says she promises to “tear it apart!”

I am looking forward to it.