My Pagan path in an elevator pitch.

Maroon Bells | Lynne Cantwell 2017

I got name-checked on the Patheos blog of a Druid priest this week.

I've mentioned John Beckett here before. I've occasionally used one or another of his posts as a springboard for a blog post of my own. I've also taken some of the online classes he has offered; I'm not a Druid, but his classes are all ecumenical, if I may repurpose the term to mean practices and beliefs that are common to all varieties of Pagans. I did my best to enumerate the types of Pagans in a blog post a few years ago. 

But I still get questions about what Paganism is. A lot of them come from folks who have quit one or another Christian sect (I seem to have collected a number of ex-Mormon friends) and made a 180-degree turn into atheism. As if there are only the two choices: believe in Jehovah or believe in nothing.

So I asked John how to talk to these friends about Paganism -- keeping in mind that Pagans don't proselytize (no, really -- we don't). His answer is in the post that I linked to up top.

He calls these types of folks "religiously ignorant." I think that's a little harsh -- I'd go for "religiously uninformed" -- but his blog isn't mine. Regardless, the point is that because of the ubiquity of Christianity in the West, for the vast majority of folks, that's their only religious reference. So, as he says, first people want to know what you believe, and second, they want to know what your holy book is. Alert hearth/myth readers will see the problem immediately: Paganism has no holy book and no single set of beliefs. 

The next thing they often want to know is what you have to do to keep from going to Hell. When you say Pagans don't have a Hell, it doesn't compute. Pagans strive to live morally, of course, but not because of some heavenly reward awaiting us. The reward is here, in this life.

I encourage you to read John's post for his overview. If you're looking for more in-depth info, I could recommend a book or two. But if you want to know what I believe? Well, I guess I'd better write an elevator pitch for you. Here goes:

I believe there are a whole lot of gods. I've spoken in meditation with several of them, and I am confident that they are separate persons -- neither facets of a single overarching deity nor figments of my imagination. I have relationships with a few gods, and if you've read any of the Pipe Woman Chronicles, their names may be familiar to you: Lugh, who can do anything; Brighid, blacksmith, healer, and poet; Morrigan, both a warrior and the personification of the land; and Mokosh, the Slavs' Mother Earth, who spins the thread of life.  

I believe in animism: that not just humans, but everything on this planet, is a person who deserves respect. I believe that none of these persons is more special than the other -- which is to say that humanity has no special, elevated place on this earth. Our job is to learn to coexist, not just with each other but also with animals, with plants, with the air and the water, and yes, even with the rocks. 

I believe that magic is a thing, and that it works. I've seen it work.

I believe that to believe in Hell is to live in fear. I look forward to going to the Summerlands when I die, and I know I don't have to believe a specific thing or live in a particular way to get there -- the Summerlands are open to all.

I'm happy with this path. It feels right to me. It makes my life richer. It makes it make sense.

If you've chosen a different path and you're happy with it, that's awesome. I would suggest, though, that you ask yourself how you found your path. If it's simply a wholesale rejection of the path you grew up following, then consider whether your former path is still controlling you. If that's your jam, then great. If not -- well. Maybe shop around for one that has no relation at all to the one you rejected.

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The legislative session ended at noon on Thursday -- right on time. I've been cocooning since then (other than a trip to the grocery store), readjusting to being retired, and I'm just about ready to rejoin the world. 

So I'm taking a break from the blog next week. See you back here in two weeks. Might have some new  pictures for you then.

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These moments of bloggy pathfinding have been brought to you, as a public service, by Lynne Cantwell. Get vaxxed!

First harvest's in.

Yesterday was Lughnasa, one of the big Neopagan holidays. Legend has it that August 1st was set aside by Lugh Lámhfhada (or Lugh of the Long Hand) as a day to honor His foster mother, Tailtiu. There were to be games and feasting to mark the occasion. In addition, the festival celebrates the first harvest: wheat and other grains, as well as the first apples.

Lugh is an interesting fellow. His father was Cian, one of the Tuatha Dé Danann -- in other words, the ancient Irish gods -- and His mother was Ethniu, daughter of a Fomorian chieftain named Balor. He was sent out to foster with Tailtiu, who was of the Fir Bolg -- and that rounds out the three tribes or ethnic groups that were vying for control of Ireland at that time.

When Lugh first came to Tara, the seat of the high kings of Ireland, the guard at the gate wouldn't let Him in. Our multi-talented hero offered his services, one after the other, to the gatekeeper, as recounted by Lady Gregory in Gods and Fighting Men. (Tara is spelled Teamhair in the original, but I'm using the modern spelling. Also, grammer nerds, please excuse the lack of paragraph breaks between speakers -- it's the original text, not me!)

"What are you skilled in?" said the door-keeper; "for no one without an art comes into Tara." "Question me," said Lugh; "I am a carpenter." "We do not want you; we have a carpenter ourselves, Luchtar, son of Luachaid." "Then I am a smith." "We have a smith ourselves, Colum Cuaillemech of the Three New Ways." "Then I am a champion." "That is no use to us; we have a champion before, Ogma, brother to the king." "Question me again," he said; "I am a harper." "That is no use to us; we have a harper ourselves, Abhean, son of Bicelmos, that the Men of the Three Gods brought from the hills." "I am a poet," he said then, "and a teller of tales." "That is no use to us; we have a teller of tales ourselves, Erc, son of Ethaman." "And I am a magician." "That is no use to us; we have plenty of magicians and people of power." "I am a physician," he said. "That is no use; we have Diancecht for our physician." "Let me be a cup-bearer," he said. "We do not want you; we have nine cup-bearers ourselves. "I am a good worker in brass." "We have a worker in brass ourselves, that is Credne Cerd."

Finally, Lugh said, "Go and ask the king if he has any one man that can do all these things, and if he has, I will not ask to come into Tara." So the guard went in and delivered the message to Nuada, who suggested that the guard try Lugh at chess. When Lugh won every game, Nuada relented at last and let Him in. Later, Lugh became high king himself and ruled for forty years -- and fulfilled a prophecy by killing Balor, His grandfather, in battle.

Lugh is sometimes referred to as the Irish sun god, but He's not. Belenus, or maybe the Dagda, hold that honor. No, Lugh is the god of light -- as well as the patron of all the other things He told that gatekeeper He was good at: smithcraft, music, poetry and storytelling, medicine, and all the rest.

When men came at last to Ireland, the Tuatha took their royal court and retreated "under the hill" -- and Lugh of the Long Hand, the god who could do anything, shrunk in both stature and importance. Today, He's known as the leprechaun.

Neopagans celebrate Lughnasa -- or as it's also known, Lammas -- by baking bread or oatcakes, and by taking stock of their own personal harvests. Alert readers of hearth/myth know that my own harvest this year is spotty: I haven't yet made a permanent move to Colorado, but I've finished the ten-book Pipe Woman Chronicles cycle with the publication of Dragon's Web and Firebird's Snare this spring. I'm planning one more book before I let Naomi and her family alone for a while, but it won't be a novel. Instead, it will be a companion volume to the series, consisting of information on each of the gods and goddesses who have appeared in the story. (This post gives you a taste of what readers might find in such a book.)

Aside from that, I'm planning to write one more novel this year. It will probably be magic realism, although I don't know the plot yet. Or any of the characters. But I've never let that stop me before -- why stop now?

A blessed Lughnasa to you all! Next week, hearth/myth will be on hiatus; I'm going to West Virginia to unplug for a few days. See you here in two weeks!

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These moments of multi-talented blogginess have been brought to you, as a public service, by Lynne Cantwell

Welcome the jaguar, and a contest.

This week's news:

• Congrats to Danee Hayungs, who won a copy of SwanSong in the Goodreads giveaway.  I'll be dropping the book in the mail tomorrow.
• My very first official staff post went live at Indies Unlimited this week.  The subject is a serious but little-known syndrome suffered by indie authors, and we all hope you give generously so we can continue to suffer from it. ;)
• More fun with Animoto: I decided The Maidens' War needed some love, in the form of its very own trailer.  You can see the result over on the left there.

But of course, the big news is the release of Fissured: Book Two of the Pipe Woman Chronicles.  It's currently available at Amazon, Smashwords, and the Nook Store. I fully expect Smashwords will be sending it out to iBooks, Kobo, and their other affiliates within the next week or two.  Oh, and you can get a paperback copy from CreateSpace.

Major thanks to those of you who have already picked up a copy!  You are all my new best friends!

Starting Friday, I'll be on (virtual) tour for Fissured as part of the Orangeberry Summer Splash.  My first stop, at Nyx Book Reviews, will feature an interview with me, which I am posting for your convenience below.  Your assignment, should you choose to accept it, is to answer one of the questions below better than I did.  (Answer it as yourself, not as me!)  Post your Q&A either in the comments here, or on my Facebook page.  I'll award to my favorite a free copy of Fissured in the format of the winner's choice.  And as a friend used to say: the judge's decision is arbitrary, capricious, and final.

Here are my answers.  Go.
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If you could invite any 5 people to dinner, who would you choose?

Four of them would be my grandparents.  Both of my grandfathers died before I was born, and my maternal grandmother died when I was six years old.  Now that I’m old enough to hold a conversation, I’d like to meet them.  Then I would try to stretch the guest list so that both my mother (who died in 2008) and father (who died in 1984) could come, too.

What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?

Once upon a time, a company called Barracini made a flavor called cherry amaretto almond.  That stuff was amazing.  Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to find it in probably twenty-five years.  These days, I settle for Turkey Hill Philadelphia Style in any flavor but strawberry.

What is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast?

A breakfast burrito from a street vendor.  But usually I have to settle for cereal.

Night owl, or early bird?

Night owl, for sure.  I can get up early if I have to, but I’m basically sleepwalking until about 8:00 a.m.

One food you would never eat?

Liver.  Ugh.  It even smells bad while it’s cooking.

Skittles or M&Ms?

You really know how to hurt a woman.  Today, almond M&Ms.  But tomorrow it might be Wild Berry Skittles.

Please tell us, in one sentence only, why we should read your book.

I had a lot of fun writing it and I think you’ll have fun reading it.

Any other books in the works? Goals for future projects? 

I’ve got three more Pipe Woman Chronicles books on tap.  I’m planning to write the third book during NaNoWriMo this November.  My original plan was to publish two books a year, but I might try to finish the final three next year.

What was your favorite book when you were a child/teen? 

I loved Little Women until I read Jane Eyre when I was in eighth grade.  Mr. Rochester proved to be a lot sexier than Mr. Bhaer.

If you could be one of the Greek Gods, which would it be and why?

Can I pick a different pantheon?  I would be Lugh, the Celtic god of light.  He was good at everything!  Plus, he’s the patron god of storytellers.

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

There’s a reason why the Pipe Woman Chronicles series is set in Colorado – it’s because I harbor a not-very-secret-at-all desire to live there.  What’s not to like about waking up to a view of the Rockies every day?

When you were little, what did you want to be when you "grew up"?

I was a multitasker from an early age.  I wanted to be a nurse, a singer and a mother.  I gave up on nursing after finding out how many years I would have to spend in school.  And later, I learned I was a better writer than a musician.  But I do have two daughters who are now in their twenties.  I guess one out of three isn’t too bad.

What's the craziest writing idea you've had?

I once had an idea for a sci-fi short story that was basically a one-sided phone conversation about waiting for a bus, but it never went anywhere.

Hidden talent?

Music.  At one time, I could play clarinet, alto sax, guitar, and soprano recorder. I’m horribly out of practice now.

What movie and/or book are you looking forward to this year?

I had been trying not to get too excited about “The Hobbit,” but then a friend posted a link to the trailer on Facebook and that was all it took.  I’m not a huge Tolkien fan – I just think it looks like it will be a terrific movie.  As for books, the big one on my horizon is The Last Dark – the final book in “The Last Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever.”  Alas, it won’t be out until 2013.

Nickname?

My nickname in college was “Chesh,” which is short for “Cheshire Cat.”  As you might expect, there’s a story behind it.  At Indiana University in the 1970s, registration was held in Assembly Hall, the basketball arena.  Each academic department had a table that held boxes and boxes of IBM punch cards.  You went around to the tables and collected a punch card for each class you wanted to take.  Then you collected your financial aid at another table, and gave that to the bursar at still another table.  It was only after being spit out of that meat grinder that new students got their pictures taken for their ID cards.  When it was my turn to have my picture taken, the guy behind the camera told me to “stand there” – on a pair of bare footprints somebody had painted on the floor.  I was just punchy enough to think the footprints were hysterically funny.  So I sported a huge grin on my ID picture all through college.

If you were a bird, which one would you be?

I would be a magpie.  Magpies are members of the corvid family, as are ravens, crows, and jays.  But magpies live in Colorado, which (as we’ve discussed) is where I want to live.  Plus they like shiny things.  Not that that says anything about me.

If you could have a signed copy of any novel, what would it be and why?

Actually, I already have it:  Lord Foul’s Bane, signed by Stephen R. Donaldson.  It’s the first book in “The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever,” which is my favorite fantasy series ever.

You have won one million dollars.  What is the first thing that you would buy?

Well, first, I’d do the practical thing and pay off debt.  But then I’d knock off the rest of the places on my short list of travel destinations (see “favorite places to travel” below).  Then I’d invest the rest of the money, retire early, and write.

What do you do in your free time? 

You mean when I’m not writing, marketing my books, or knitting?  I sleep!

What's your favorite season/weather?

Autumn, hands down.  I used to be a big fan of winter until I moved to the Mid-Atlantic, where snow throws everybody into a panic.  Spring is too soggy and summer is too hot and sticky.  But autumn skies are that beautiful deep blue, and I love the scent of fallen leaves.

Favorite places to travel?

I keep going back to Colorado, New Mexico, and southern West Virginia, so I guess those qualify as my favorites.  But I also have a list of destinations that I intend to visit someday.  I’ve been whittling away at it over the years and it’s now down to three places:  the Czech Republic, Ireland, and Alaska.  I’m going to the Czech Republic this fall, so if all goes as planned, soon the list will be down to two.

Favorite music?

Either Irish trad (my favorite group is Flook) or top-40 songs from the 1960s and ‘70s.  As a kid, I listened to one of two Chicago radio stations, either WLS or WCFL, depending on where Larry Lujack (a.k.a. Superjock) was working at the time.

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I'm Lynne Cantwell, and I approve this blog post. 

Fruits of the First Harvest.

In this week's news wrapup:

• The Seized trailer was featured this weekend at Indies Unlimited. I hope you've had a chance to stop by and see it -- and to see the new blog setup.  The Evil Mastermind put the blog through an upgrade this week; we're still working out the kinks, but it's coming along.
• If you haven't yet picked up your free e-book copies of Seized and SwanSong at Smashwords, time's a-wastin'!  The sitewide Summer/Winter promotion ends Tuesday.  Hie thee to Smashwords and pick up some good reads (not just mine!) to see you through the end of the season.  
• In case you need an extra impetus to get those free downloads now, prices for the e-book editions of both Seized and SwanSong will be going up next week, once the Smashwords promotion is over.

Speaking of the end of the season, it may not seem like it yet, here in the US, but summer's on the wane.  This coming Wednesday is Lughnasa, the cross-quarter day named for the Celtic god Lugh.

Lugh of the Long Hand is often mistakenly called a sun god.  He's not; he's the Celtic god of light.  (The Celts' sun god was Belenos, for whom Beltane is named.)  Lugh is also associated with lightning, and is sometimes called their storm god.

But don't think Lugh's a slacker just because he's not a god of the sun.  Far from it!  It's clear from the tale told of his arrival at Tara, the court of the Tuatha de Danann.  Lugh approached the gate guard while the Tuatha were inside, feasting, and asked to be let in.  He might have thought he would have no trouble being admitted, seeing as he was the son of Cian, one of the Tuatha, and Ethlinn, the daughter of the king of the Fomorians.  But the gate guard told him he could come in only if he had a skill with which to serve the king, who was Nuada at that time.  Lugh said he was a carpenter; the guard said they had one already.  Well, said Lugh, he was a smith; no, they had a smith already, too.  Lugh then said he was a champion, but they had one of those as well.  He then asked after a string of other jobs:  harper (no), poet (nope), magician (uh-uh), physician (sorry, no), cup-bearer (we have nine!), and a worker in brass (negative).  Finally, Lugh told the guard to go and ask the king whether he had one man who could do all those things.  When Nuada heard the guard's report, he told him to try the kid at chess -- and Lugh won every game.  Then Nuada let him in.  Later, when Nuada was wounded, the Tuatha made Lugh their king.

As pleasant (and competent!) a god as Lugh was, you didn't want to cross him.  The three sons of Tuireann learned this to their sorrow when, on impulse, they killed Lugh's father Cian.  When Lugh heard of it, he called the three men before him and bade them pay for their misdeed by bringing him nine precious things from all around the world -- things which they would have to steal, because their owners would likely not part from them otherwise.  Lugh assumed the brothers would be killed on their quest.

So the brothers embarked on their journey, and with a mixture of pleading, chicanery, and magical help, they managed to procure eight of the nine precious things.  For the final item, the brothers were to give three shouts on the Hill of Miochaoin in Lochlann (probably either Norway or northern Scotland).  The hill's owner sent his three sons to fight them, for no one was allowed to shout upon the hill.  The sons of Tuireann killed the other three, but were mortally wounded themselves.  They sailed back to Ireland on the brink of death, and bade their father to ask Lugh for healing.  But Lugh refused.  So the sons died of their wounds, and their father died of grief.

(The tale of the sons of Tuireann is one of the three great Irish tragedies.  The story upon which SwanSong is based is another, and the third is the tale of Deirdre of the Sorrows.)

After Lugh's foster mother Tailtiu died (she had taken it upon herself to clear the land for crops, and died of exhaustion), he set August 1 as the day of her funeral feast and a series of games and sporting events -- a celebration that became an annual tradition.  Today, Neopagans also mark the season with games, and with mourning the passing of summer as the first crops are harvested.  Bread made from new grain is often served, and Lugh's blessing may be asked that the rest of the harvest not be ruined.

May Lugh bless you and grant you a fine First Harvest this year.  Happy Lughnasa!
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I'm Lynne Cantwell, and I approve this blog post.