As a kid I carved pumpkins, as I mentioned in my jack-o-lantern pants posts, many moons ago. But as an adult, who has spent many years diving into history, the specifically Irish history of my ancestors, I have found myself switching to a new tradition. Turnips.
The turnip was the orignal carving vegetable for the original halloween, samhain in gaelic. Irish culture gave the traditions of halloween to the British colonizers and Irish immigrants took the traditions with them to America. Trick or treating, costumes, jack-o-lanterns carved pumpkins are all adopted from this key festival of ancient Ireland.
Samhain was a two day celebration. A bit like new year, a bit like day of the dead, and a time when the division between the spirit realm and earthly realm became thin. Fires lit the dark night, masks were worn and turnips carved to warn off evil spirits. The dead could return for a visit and it was unsettling. The world could end, if the gods were not placated.
Of course all this uncertainty is part of the human life and how we make sense of the changing seasons and our unpredictable world. I think its fascinating how they processed these uncertainties in a feast day, abd found ways to distract themselves in the darkness of short days and impending winter. Along with the othet traditions mentioned there was divination and superstitions, like predicting future outcomes with cabbages, or just games of chance, such as finding a small trinket in your slice of pie.
How does the macabre play role in Samhain and why do we have such traditions as graveyards and ghosts? It was a part of the ancient Samhain traditons to visit burial places, make offerings to the dead, and even eat in silence. Of course, while leaving a place at the table for a lost loved one or other spirits that may roam.
There is also a darkness to this festival, and layers to how far things are taken due to beliefs. This is where I stop feeling comfortable, when it gets into the druid roots. It could be quite a sinister feeling ritual, and the druids, well I had to pause my Udal Cuain research because this druid pagan chapter of culture is too dark for me. Any religion that practice human sacrifices is a no for me dawg.
But if you would like to learn more about the lighter and in my opinion, more fascinating parts of Samhain I highly recommend checking out the Ulster Folk Museum’s website.
Udal Cuain was a story of many locations, each with a key purpose and strategic place on the map. When I began writing this novel I found the easiest way for me to develop the setting was to make a map of the places and ideas I had in mind. But where to start? As this was based on some historical structures and locations in Ireland, referencing the Irish map was a great place to begin!
Sketching the Map
The setting of Udal Cuain was set in western Ireland within the ancient kingdom of Connachtha during the Early Medieval period. Connachtha was one of the historic provinces within ancient Ireland – Ulster to the North, Connachtha to the West, Munster to the South, and Leinster to the East. So looking at four kingdoms, with Meath at the center, the spiritual center of the Druid Celtic faith, the story had a world to research and emulate from the evidence that survives of these kingdoms.
With a title like Udal Cuain, which means “tossed around by the sea” in Gaelic, I settled on Connachtha because it is on the rugged coast of the Wild Atlantic Way. It is also one of the kingdoms on the western side that my family is not connected with. I have family connections to the Munster region and Ulster region, and I wanted something unfamiliar and neutral for these fictional characters. It left the door open to interact with Ulster and Munster if I changed my mind.
County Galway’s geographical features stood out for its port and bay with small islands, perfect for a fictional island to exile my characters on. The Burren of rocky terrain to the south along with the Shannon River provided some interesting options for a secondary chieftain’s home base and the key feature – the Aran Islands at the mouth of the bay. With these three I planned my three smaller fictional kingdoms of warring chieftains:
Galway of the O’Connors
The O’Connors’ kingdom, which I placed at the location of Galway’s current city, was supposed to be a well-established chieftain dynasty, that had many enemies and allies. I wanted the kingdom to be both strong; and yet on the tipping point of losing it all because of the internal strife. I wanted their kingdom’s fortress and main structure to be stationed at the Galway city current location, with the idea that the O’Connors’ land would cover the coast around the bay to the Connemara Bog and down to the Burren at the south so that they had room to farm, hunt, and keep livestock. They would also have access to building materials, road networks to interior Ireland, and the mountains. There would be a connection to Ireland’s spirit within the people and leaders. They would also be connected to the land and there for the Tuatha De Danann, the mythology of Ancient Ireland.
I chose this location because it had a long history in Ireland, but had room to explore imagined locations. Galway doesn’t have historic anchor points for this period, like Newgrange or Glendalough. It allowed me to invent without clashing with the established places or treading on the stories of real people. It also has great geography. The bay provides natural resources like fishing, trade, boat building, etc. It would make sense to have a marketplace there and an imagined fortress. To the interior, there are forests, meadows, mountains, lakes, waterfalls, and rock for quarries.
Aran Islands of Murtagh
The Aran Islands to the far west of Galway Bay, an outpost of the Irish language during the centuries of oppression by the British, and a population decimated by the famine, I wanted to make these islands a key player in my story. They have many stories to tell, but in Udal Cuain, I wanted to bring them back to life as a powerful seat of trade. A necessity to the kingdom of Galway and the enemy to the North, the impending Vikings. I chose to make the Aran Islands kingdom a rival to the O’Connors, with an imagined trading kingdom built around the ancient fort of Dun Aonghasa. I also saw this as a choke point for the Galway kingdom of the O’Connors, they must keep tensions cool with Chieftain Murtagh in order to keep their own economy going and allow free use of the Ocean beyond. Yet as in relationships, this is easier said than done.
Limerick
Limerick on the Shannon River served as a connection to the Viking Age. This city was a settlement historically conquered by Vikings, in Udal Cuain it is a place of cross-cultural influences. There was a historic kingdom in the story, the Ui Neills, that one character is closely connected to. Yet with the changes that took place within Ireland during the Early Medieval period, the Ui Neills, are faced with Viking invasions. I chose to use this location as a place to see the impact, good and bad, of Viking settlements in Ireland. This played a key role in Ireland’s structure historically, with Dublin the capital city being established by Ivar the Boneless. In my fictional setting of Udal Cuain, I wanted this Limerick settlement to explore the Norse and Celtic cultures, while pondering the pain, the greed, the bloodshed.
Searbh
The Island of Searbh is completely made up, yet inspired by the small islands in Galway Bay. Searbh, being a fictional island in Galway Bay was a blank canvas to create my own hub of the story without needing to adhere to established geography or history. Searbh served as an exile and prison for the characters sent for their crimes against the O’Connors, used mainly by Chieftainness Tearlag to reinforce her agenda. The name Searbh in Gaelic means bitterness, that was what I wanted this island to encapsulate, a bitterness of landscape and mindset. The exiles have bitterness in their daily life as prisoners, but it also bleeds into their relationships and attitude toward survival on the island. I wanted to create a place that could be seen as hopeless, or potentially a powder keg of motivation.
These locations form a triangle around the Island of Searbh, furthering the message that the characters sent here are cornered by the adversaries, yet an unlikely alliance might be within reach if they can get off the island. From Searbh, you can see Galway, yet you cannot reach your home. It is psychological warfare. The Aran Islands are beyond sight, but the hope of finding an ally in Chieftain Murtagh lives on in the minds of exiles of their potential support and refuge against Tearlag. Searbh’s location and removal from the actual kingdom with its society and drama, makes Searbh a place of escape from reality. Here the exiles can both dwell and escape the reasons that brought them here.
There aren’t many resources on Searbh and so they are dependent on their captors to stay together, they also learn to adapt to a new life. The exiles learn new skills and have to get creative. Strangely enough, there are many relics on this island, like it has a life beyond what the exiles understand. I wanted there to be a mysterious undertone to the place and toe the line between reality and delusion and the psychological warfare gets in their minds.
If you were going to design a map for an upcoming novel how would you design it? Would you reference a real landscape or would you design purely from the depths of your imagination?
Something I knew I wanted to capture in my novel Udal Cuain, was the deep world of lore that literary classics such as Lord of The Rings, the Hobbit, and Harry Potter present by creating books within books. Such as There and Back Again by Bilbo Baggins, Quidditch Through the Ages by Kennilworthy Whisp, or Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander. But it had to fit the world I had created in Udal Cuain with the type of literacy and availability of books, according to the time period.
I settled on a private journal that would make sense in the world of a Cheiftain living in Viking Age Ireland, that although Ancient Irish had a spoken language mostly, a brief written language of Ogham based on trees, they did have the influence of monasteries and with it written language and booking making availability. Especially if that Chieftain had studied with monks and was interested in cultures other than his own, a wanderlust and curious man, a recorder of history, both good and bad that could lead to secrets being recorded, that others did not want. A cause for his death? Perhaps! This was my jumping-off point for creating an active character in a story, where this character had already died.
In Media Res
Because I was a novel writing novice I wanted to be as slick and tricky as possible, at times writing myself into a corner by joining the story in media res, jumping into a story in the middle of the narrative without context. This left me with a problem, how do I tell the stories I need to tell without lengthy flashback scenes that may confuse the reader and muddy the plot?
Insert a lost journal. Found by a key character, with similarities to Conn. This character, who is one of the main characters, is named Kinvara. Kinvara is a misfit turned hero, through her pure spirit, she is chosen by the faeries to be their advocate and right the wrongs of her fellow clan. It is she who finds the journal after Conn’s death when she is in exile on Searbh for treason against the reigning Tearlag, widow of Conn. Kinvara desires to understand why her family and their allies were driven from home to this island, and why her parents would align themselves with Riordan and Saoirse, the ones accused of treason by Tearlag when they seem to be such bad people.
Kinvara like Conn, observes people, and so by choosing her as the character to find the journal, it is like we get to experience Conn in these situations and resolved a problem I did not anticipate – How do I make Conn a relatable character when he’s dead? How do I make the reader see his side? By making Kinvara a foil of Conn, her experience with the secrets she discovers inside Conn’s Journal allows the reader to understand who he was. How Kinvara reacts to the information both shows her value system and Conn’s and allows Kinvara to be a fly on the wall of events that apply to her but gives her the knowledge of such information that would not be available to her character otherwise.
It eliminated for me, the need to create an omniscient narrator. Something I wasn’t interested in.
Sowing Seeds of Story
Now came the task of integrating the two. How should this book, Conn’s Journal be presented in the story of Udal Cuain?
I pondered if it should be in reference only, or maybe a separate book? But that felt like I was putting a burden on the reader to seek this out when I didn’t know if anyone would care enough to do so. I don’t have a writing pedigree to fall back on, I’m an unknown writer that may not be engaging or worthy of devoting so much time to, so I thought about how to make the journal part of the chapters.
Integrating the pieces of Conn’s Journal into the chapters seemed like the most efficient option for the reader, if it exists in the story without requiring the reader to look up an additional source, I believed the reader would be more engaged, and more likely to read Conn’s Journal. This was a great strategy, I believe because this opened a new framework to chapters. If I wanted to reveal something from the past, instead of having the characters talk about it, I could paint a whole scene with action and foreshadowing, so that it was like the reader was reading Conn’s Journal like Kinvara and experiencing the story from her perspective, but also Conn’s perspective.
This plan provided a great opportunity to reveal more about the secretive O’Connors and fact-check what son Riordan, daughter-in-law Saoirse, and wife Tearlag were presenting to the characters in the story and telling the reader. It allowed me the chance to experiment with unreliable narrators, which was a lot of fun, and use the tool of dramatic irony.
Because of the seasonal framework, I discussed before in Ancient Irish Calendar, I had a concise way to show the reader when Conn’s Journal took place. His entries could be dated and set in a specific season or month that could be referenced before or later on, like a hyperlink. But, this could be more layered, Conn may have written about an event in his early life that was set in the calendar framework, and I could demonstrate when Conn did this writing later in life with an entry dated so that the reader could feel like Conn was a three-dimensional character. Just as in life, I wanted my characters to feel human and humans have memories triggered by events that are extremely personal in nature. We connect the dots in our own way, and I wanted Conn’s character to have the chance to tell his own story.
Thank you reader for allowing me to muse and reflect on this work with you. I truly miss the story within the story I created with Conn. What do you think about this writing technique? Would you apply it to your own work? Do you enjoy when authors employ in media res, dramatic irony, or books written by their characters? Should dead characters stay dead? It’s a lot to ponder.
An important part of the world I desired to create in my novel Udal Cuain was a sense of place. Since I chose to set my story in Early Medieval Ireland, also known as Viking Age Ireland, I strove to create a world that didn’t feel like our modern age but instead steeped in a culture unlike the modern North American one I know as familiar. A simple way I found to create this complete world was to research and incorporate the Ancient Irish calendar of months. The structure of this calendar looked a little something like this:
With Samhain celebrated the night between the last day of fall and winter, signifiying a new year. Later on in Nollaig the Winter Solstice was celebrated.
Earrach (Spring)
Feabhra (February), Marta (March), Aibrean (April)
With the festival of Imbolc, for fertility and planting, celebrated at the start of Feabhra. The Spring Equinox was recognized in Marta.
Samhradh (Summer)
Bealtaine (May), Meitheamh (June), Iuil (July)
With the festival of May Day being celebrated on the first day of Bealtaine. Summer Solstice recognized during Meitheamh at New Grange
Fomhar (Fall/Harvest)
Lunasa (August), Mean Fomhair (September), Deireadh Fomhair (October)
The Lunasa festival being celebrated at the start of the harvest. At the end of Deireadh Fomhair, Samhain night signified the end of the year.
Already this calendar has a different rhythm than our own, with the months with each season divided one month earlier than we do now. It is a calendar that reflects the agricultural tempo of the ancient Irish society and helped the Viking Age world I was writing about feeling like it had structure. These months are unique, based on a lunar structure with names that correspond to what’s going on within the season compared to the Gregorian calendar, our modern system, which is mathematical and accounts for the passage of time the Earth takes to orbit the Sun. Understanding how and why we use things is important to consider when creating a new world or awakening an ancient world within a story.
The people who created this Irish calendar understood the passage of time in a different, yet similar way to what we understand it. We have religious and cultural festivals, recognize four seasons, and even celebrate Halloween to this day. So there is common ground, and you will find your own common ground in your projects if you choose to add a calendar to your fiction world-building!
Passage of Time
I provided source materials to bring this structure into the story in a natural way, there was a separate section devoted to this calendar like an appendix to a book. Because of how complex the Gaelic language is, having the visible calendar to reference with the names corresponding with their meaning helped me keep it straight as I wrote and added a nice layer to the story, a touch point the characters could reference naturally in dialogue yet the reader could have the knowledge to understand the meaning behind these sometimes foreign words. I enjoy little details like that.
I think it’s why I enjoy Harry Potter, Avatar the Last Airbender, Star Wars, etc. I like to lose myself in a story and wander far into the world, a calendar is that little extra punch that pulls me in even more to a time and place. So when I was writing a character I fancied the idea of being able to think about that character’s understanding of time.
What were they looking forward to?
What would signify change or normalcy in that character’s life?
How could I take the research of Viking Age Ireland and synthesize it into a story that would feel tangible?
I came back to the passage of time and by illustrating that in the story with these seasons, sprinkling little details of the season, the weather, the natural processes that come with winter, planting, harvest, summer sunshine, and all the ways we as humans make sense of that.
Cultural Significance
Holidays and festivals are key to our lives, and so were they for the historical world I was reimagining. They are connection points for characters. Opportunities to naturally move the story forward with action sequences, unexpected plot twists, or just an excuse to bring all your characters together in one scene that is plausible. It provides a way to understand the world from different perspectives and how these characters view their customs and cultures. Generationally, characters may see these moments differently. Introverts and extroverts will experience the spectacle and parties in their own fashion.
With Udal Cuain, Samhain played a big role in framing the year because of how culturally significant this festival was to Ancient Irish culture. They literally believed the separation between the living and dead grew thin on this night, if their deities were not pleased bad spirits would come to harm and the world may cease to exist the next day. It was not just a night of spooky characters, it was a serious event, and as humans, it explores our own feelings of fragility in the greater universe. Mortals versus immortal forces. This is a fantastic source of natural tension in a story, and as the dead could come back to visit their loved ones it brought a source of mystery to the story.
Two main characters, former Chieftain Conn, and Princess of Inis Aran, Caoimhe were deceased by mysterious and suspicious means in Udal Cuain, but one Samhain they each came back, one to haunt and one to heal. It was a blast to write and I highly recommend playing around with a structure like this in your own unique way.
I hope this dive back into the world of Udal Cuain and the research I did to create this novel, serves to inspire you. Even as I write this, I feel an itch to get back into fiction writing. It is such a challenging yet rewarding art form, and so necessary to our human hearts. Stories make us who we are. Dear reader, thanks for taking time with me today. I wish you all the best.
I think my fascination with Ancient Ireland began when I was eight, on a family trip back to Ireland to see “the old country” and meet up with our cousins who live on the homestead in County Antrim. It was a tour around the island, starting in Dublin and rounding the coastline to the Wild Atlantic Way, finishing with the North. As a child, seeing both modern Ireland and ancient ruins next to each other was unlike anything I had experienced before coming from America. I mean, my hometown was founded in 1802, not very old compared to the beehive monastery I’m standing next to in the image above. To me, a storybook had come to life, and what intrigued me the most was what these ancient people were doing with these now stone ruin buildings that were so odd to me compared to how buildings function in our modern context. I was fascinated to understand what this world looked like.
Fast forward to high school, I am impatiently waiting to learn about ancient Ireland as I sit through World History, American History, and European History hoping maybe just maybe this is where I’ll catch a break, but no there was nothing but a short line about the Potato Famine, Oliver Cromwell and the obligatory St. Patrick mention on March 17. I wasn’t the only one disappointed by the underwhelming coverage of world history, a classmate didn’t even get the chance to learn about his home country of Australia.
But one day in my college class History 201 I was assigned a final project that fit the bill, a historical abstract and thesis, on any topic I wanted, this was the moment! Fascinated by this unknown Ireland, puzzled by why Belfast was closed down on our trip for violence, and curious to know why there was tension between my Irish Republic and Northern Irish relatives, I decided to dig into the 1916 Uprising and Home Rule Movement.
When we toured Dublin, I remembered that bullet holes pointed out in the post office, which I found odd at the time, and started there. What I didn’t expect to discover as I did this research was this call back to Ireland’s identity, and ancient Ireland before the Norman Conquest of 1069 AD. One of the High Kings and great legends, castles, and beauty. Ireland of the ruins I saw, a land of fortresses to defend against Vikings and neolithic structures that seemed impossible to build. I also found a deep Catholic sacrificial nature to this rebellion, an identity so complex it was so much deeper than I was expecting and made me crave more! Even after three months of researching for my thesis, I felt like I had just begun there are innumerable layers to the Irish fight for freedom.
A few semesters later as a junior, I had the opportunity to plan my own independent study. I decided to feed my curiosity about the inspirations behind the Uprising and Gaelic culture revival which began before the fight for Home Rule. I wanted this independent study to help me understand the poets, the language, and the culture. I chose the Early Medieval period from the 5th century to the 11th-century invasion by the English to basically study an overview of how Ireland turned from a pagan faith to Christianity, what this meant to the culture and how did Ireland look during this time of Vikings and High Kings. I dove into the legends of the mythical first Irish that enchant the spirit of the ancient culture. The storytelling and imagination were so beautiful to me. This space before the Normans came and began centuries of despair was so pure to me at the time, like Harry’s first time in Diagon Alley or Hogwarts Castle.
I carried this sense of wonder into adulthood, determined to understand this world of myth and legend deeper. When life gave me a few curve balls and I found myself with empty, looming days of unemployment, this sense of wonder carried me into creativity by starting the Muirin Project site and plotting out the novel Udal Cuain, complete with side journals of the Celtic calendar and character journals to fully immerse the reader in this world of my imagined storybook Ireland that my eight-year-old self wanted to explore. But I didn’t expect it to get so dark, and it did get very, very murky. Not that this is a bad history or unworthy to be studied, but I did learn to be careful of what you open yourself up to.
One Rabbit Riot 