The Elysian Fields

In honour of the day, we are watching documentaries about pirates!

First up, the second most accurate film about life at sea, that documentary, Muppet Treasure Island.

Later, we're likely to watch the (rather dry) but incredibly accurate and detailed biopic about Yellowbeard.

We might also watch Pirates, Hook, and Cutthroat Island.

There's also the Pirates of the Caribbean films:The Curse of the Black Pearl, Dead Man's Chest, and At World's End.

We could also open up to movies that have some piratical elements or take things off into outer space, as with The Ice Pirates, Treasure Planet, Castle in the Sky, The Goonies, or Porco Rosso.

Of course, there's also The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything for Mr. B.

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We may also entertain ourselves by playing Pirate's Cove or Cartagena.

There's also the sequels to Cartagena, The Pirate's Nest, Die Goldinsel, and Die Mueterei, but I haven't played any of those yet.

~ ~ ~

So, what's everyone else doing for Talk Like a Pirate Day?

Aye, me hearties, 'tis International Talk Like A Pirate Day, so commence with the speechifyin' or I'll gut ye from stem to stern! Landlubbers, one and all...

Ahem.

For those in the mood for a piratin' type story, or portions thereof, checkout Act One of L'Abbatoir - which starts here - the tale of a steampunkity vessel in an otherwise (attempted) historically accurate 1630's (if I remember correctly, it's set in 1632) Caribbean. It's a couple years old, and I haven't received a word of feedback on it, so I expect it's no good, but hey, it's there for the reading. When I get a chance, I may actually finish Acts Two (which is almost there) and Three (which is an outline)

Today is International Pixel-Stained Technopeasant Day!

For my contribution, I offer up the still-unedited first act of L'Abattoir to a wider audience:

Scene One of piratey-type steampunkity stuff

A link to the following scene will be included at the end of each one!

Enjoy, my fellow technopeasant wretches!

"Ahoy, l'Abattoir ! Captain Isaiah Pelham, late of the Bloodhawk, and officers, requesting permission to come aboard!" called out Seth Morse, who had been named first mate for their venture.

Worsley leaned over the rail, looking down at the two boats approaching. He dropped a knotted rope. "J-j-just the Captain, p-p-please." He smiled, feeling a bit more comfortable at the unease of the sailors, and at their readiness for trouble, clearly wary of whatever unknown threat was aboard.

Pelham swung over the rail onto the deck, finding it furnished in the same manner as the rest of the ship: clad with somewhat ill-fitting planking, loose underfoot. No other crew was visible in the lamp light, and nothing that could seemingly do any harm. Perhaps the rumours were overstated - but some vague menace still clung to l'Abattoir despite her ragged appearance.

"C-c-c-captain. Welcome to l'Abattoir. I am to understand you are here to sail with us, and not against us?"

Pelham read Worsley as shrewd and intelligent - yet seemingly unarmed. Confidant, despite his nervous mannerisms, despite being dwarfed by the captain's presence.

Worsley smiled at the assessment, ignoring Pelham's hand upon his sword. "In my absence, l'Abattoir will destroy you, as it did the bold men you sent. You will not be her master, but if you stay your hand, you may benefit from her destructive capabilities. I would not ask you to sail to the ends of the earth without an understanding of what she is about."

"Captain!" called the men in the jolly boats - and Pelham turned to see lights flashing further out in the harbour.

( The navy holds little love for the Bloodhawk - that looks to be Alahandra, and if you do not act fast, she will destroy the 'hawk and your men )

"Hoy! Look! It's our friend from the Eel... why, if he doesn't have 'is very own b-buh-boat!"

Worsley looked down in surprise at the laughing men in the jolly boat - which was off of the Bloodhawk, moored further out in the bay - and, quickly hung a board over the stern.

The men exchanged glances, and, with a nod from their ringleader, the first mate began: "The Falcon, eh? She looks more like a Pigeon, iffen you ask me, eh, Mr. Jilkey?"

"Nay, Jacob... 'tho I knew the boat what bore that nameplate and that isn't she," the great bearded one said, eyes flashing with mirth and an undeniable menace.

( The second mate chuckled at their quartermaster's comment... (cut for length) )

"There we are lads! To the taverns get ye gone!"

The majority of the crew of the Midnight Maiden needed no further encouragement from their captain. After a resounding cheer, they scrambled ashore and disappeared into Port Royal, to divest themselves of their share of the bounty of their recent voyage.

"Well, Mr. Cobb, what do you make of that?" Ephraim Mor, Captain of the Midnight Maiden, covered the mouth of the ivory pipe in his hands, lit it, and puffed it into life, as he looked at his first mate, and not at the oddly fitted vessel tied up to the berth off their stern quarters.

"I don't like it sirrah, and no mistake. It's no merchant vessel, and its like nothing I've seen in the Spanish nor the English navies. It's bad news, it is." Mr. Cobb glared past his Captain, scrutinizing the deck of the slightly smaller craft.

In addition to the odd lines - sharper, sleeker than the common vessels that plied the waters of the Caribbean regardless of intent, it looked built for a limited number of purposes: to go fast and to hit hard.

( Almost like to a schooner in proportion... (cut for length) )

Well, some progress made over the waves of the blood-red sea.

Lady MacBathory shows no shame when her young sailor confronts her about the possibility - the rumor - that she just might not be a moral, upstanding, young lady, and she heartily agrees. I suppose I have something like what I've heard Anita Blake tends to do, except rest assured I leave most of what happens to your imagination; I just provide enough information to let you know it is happening. A lot.

There is a reason for it, of course. Not a subtle one, but it is at the core of the character.

She continues to find clever places to entertain her sailor friends, and the treasure hold provides a, erm, rich background. At the same, it suits as a barrel of apples might, and she Overhears certain discussion and is greatly entertained by it. Or perhaps, she just enjoys her young sailor's company.

I'm sure she leaves him exhausted some time close to morning, but she finds the first mate to her liking as well, and certainly seems to enjoy him right up until they prepare to engage with one of the many pirate ships Revenge, who looks to be heavy with loot.

Alas, due to no fault of hers, or the charge she sets in the Revenge's hull, it seems someone has scuttled the ship and sent her riches to Davy Jones.

So, now we have 14,561 words, and there's still the second mate, Jilkey's recollection, the invocation of Macbeth, a storm, an island, His Majesty's Ship the Big Bad Brig, and, of course, the betrayal, murder, and other mayhem that is the grande finale. I suppose my ability to estimate is failing me, but I could see this getting to 20,000 words before Jilkey arrives on the scene like a knight in shining armor, which probably puts the more realistic number approaching 30,000. I shouldn't really speculate, because I already feel like I might not be getting into as much detail as needed to tell the story - and unlike some of the short stories where certain things are left up in the air, this must be somewhat clearer, even if the key motivations of the key characters are somewhat obscured.

Only a wee bit more written - 10,770 words now - a handful of those in further outline. If those brief notes are any indication, 15,000 will be a mark soon passed, and 20,000 a far more likely destination.

Jilkey's thread was interwoven - two passes betwixt existing scenes, as he voices his concerns over his former shipmates fate, and remembers how the mouse once chased the cat away. He has more to remember still, but that will come.

Next up, those former shipmates take her for her word, though it spreads naught but lies. If it isn't apparent in her brief, fiery appearances, Lady MacBathory has managed to pull strings in the readers as she has with the crew.

It won't be long before she as much tells them she is an actress - a truth, whether or not she played a part when they closed out the Globe. Even as she tells poor Pelham how she saw daggers before her, she whispers sweet nothings of power and deceit, guiding his hand towards her own desires.

And unlike the character she claims to have played upon stage, she seems to have few qualms about courage and sticking places.

Sunday @ 7pm: I'm definitely going to need to come up another pirate story - the one I'm working on really wants to be 15,000 words or more. At the moment it's only a handful of paragraphs away from being my longest short story. Someday, it might even become that dreaded "N" word. Hopefully it doesn't go that far, even if it does grow beyond the boundaries of "short." I just don't think I'll be able to get away with skating over a few battles, raids, and other assorted piratical things before the mousetrap, as it were, snaps closed.

Some ideas are percolating into an actually-short story with Pelham and the crew of the 'awk - I can see them on board, and I know they've done other piratey bits before. They're a good way to gaining wider renown, so they must have had an adventure or two before Jilkey and shipmates started sipping ale and grog down at the Wriggling Eel... I'm just not sure exactly what those adventures - in particular, this one I'd like to tell - are. Before I get to that, though, I've got to keep playing the cat and mouse game. That longer story needs to sail to its end before the ideas sink below the waves.

The Australian steampunk thing needs to get some more attention - it keeps hinting at further details, but hasn't said, "Hey, here's my whole story!" yet. And at some point, I have to go visit with a certain heir to the Alexandrian Empire, because now that he's sitting a table with DaVinci, things are likely to get interesting. Although I think I do have to rework one of the core conceits of the entire story - the enigma that puts him on the path to the throne really needs to not involve encryption, what with that other guy's novel about codes and DaVinci and all making that whole connection seem somewhat less than original.

Further down in the piles of Stuff That's Not Done, there's The Gauntlet, which is quite a few chapters short of completion (or two chapters in, depending on how you want to look at it.) The Dreaming could use another story or two - there's still a lot more I want to do with that character and those settings. A couple of short story starts and fits are lying around, including a "prequel" to The Goblin and the Sorcerer (which is about something else entirely, but opens with the goblin and the sorcerer first coming across each other - or, rather, the goblin being caught on the edge of one of the sorcerer's spells, and unknowingly defeating the purpose of said spell.) There's also the Ellyssian Tarot - and that's likely to need a *lot* of work, as much has changed since I first outlined the deck.

For now, though, it's pirates. And maybe a poem or two.

Last minute update, Monday @ 1am: With the remaining outline still in place, the piratical type thing is 10,265 words. Mind you, the basic idea of the finale, in scattered semi-phrases (not even full sentences) is what nudges it over the 10,000 word limit. And all they've done is declare war on the Spanish navy, adding a frigate and two corvettes onto their kill list; as well as capturing most of the bounty of a well-laden ship filled with New World gold and other such trinkets. Since the sinking of the first man o' war was described in the outline as "Pelham joins Grim" or something equally descriptive like that. Seeing how this latest affair was but a very brief battle (they came, they sank, they looted) there still must be more to go with "several conflicts." It's only after that, as they return to Port Royal - likely Tortuga, given it's under British control and the Spanish navy is less than happy with them - that the finale slips into place. 15,000 words might be a bit tight, especially if Grim's daughter adds anyone besides the captain and the handsome young sailor with the nice singing voice to her own list of conquests. Sadly, for those interested in such things, I don't detail those particular events. They are, however, going to fit into nearly every scene she's in. Why, even as she killed the two refugees from the merchantman, she couldn't resist a kiss. Makes you wonder how ol' Grim can insist to the Captain that his daughter is not that kind of girl...

Even later last minute update, Monday @ 9:30am: Story is a harsh mistress. I had gobs of hours reserved for listening to the stories of two out of three of my pirate crews, and all I got from them were a few minor tweaks and embellishments. Later, upon the second attempt, which began shortly after the core of this update was written, and suddenly they were not just telling their stories, but they sang one as well. And, lo', when the dust settled and the smoke from the cannon fire thinned, the story was twice what it had been. Sadly, the characters did not quiet down - still have not - and I've gotten bits and pieces of the past, as well as hints of the future (perhaps even into the 1660's!) Two threads have presented themselves for further treatment. The first, that of the Bathoryesque female lead could be oh so much longer, but not all of her tale is suitable for mixed audiences (psychopathic murderers, and non-, and I would actually hope that there are far more of the latter in the audience, as two of these characters are enough of the former.) The other thread will wrap things up quicker, into somewhat of a neater package, and will follow closer to my original finale. In fact, the only real difference thus far is that one just might be alive in the wreckage, and of the other two leads, she is made to walk the plank first.

I suppose it's an element of realism, all that heavy lifting on Friday feels as it did when I would row around Pocomoonshine.

Anyway, on theme as it were.

The call for the piratey stuff:

Fast Ships, Black Sails—PO Box 38190, Tallahassee FL 32315. Captains (aka editors): Ann and Jeff VanderMeer. "Fast Ships, Black Sails, to be published by Night Shade Books, wants exciting, bone-rattling pirate fiction set in the past, present, or future, covering the full spectrum of parrot-carrying, booty-taking, grappling-hook pirate adventure and fun."

3000–10,000 words; pays 5¢/word + 2 copies and share of royalties. "No simultaneous submissions. No boring stories. Electronic submissions in Word or RTF format." Snail mail subs can be sent to address above. peglegparrots at hotmail.com. Deadline: End of February, 2007.

I put together a little playlist I can run through while working on the story, to help set and keep the mood. Instant nautical mood, just add shuffle play:

• Hans Zimmer - Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man's Chest soundtrack


• Men of the Robert Shaw Chorale - Sea Shanties


• Louis Killen - Sea Chanteys


• Cincinnati Pops Orchestra conducted by Erich Kunzel - Sailing


• Various Artists - Blow the Man Down


• The Dady Brothers - The Erie Canal Song (Low Bridge)

(all are full albums except the last)

Anyway, enough preamble : here's a brief excerpt (that has nothing to do with A Jug of This):

( Ye mar'ners all, as you pass by / Call in and drink if you are dry / Come spend, my lads, your money brisk / And pop your nose in a jug of this )

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The only bad news about this, is that it's shaping out to be somewhat larger than I had planned. About 5000 words, and they're just now heading out from Port Royal. Several names have already changed, most notably the mouse-rat-weasel. He retained his first name, but middle and surname shifted somewhat. The above was also modified for content and clarity after its first re-read last night.

The crew hasn't even realized the artist-formerly-known-as-Grimsley has a daughter on board. Although I'm not quite sure why he's passing his wife off as his daughter. Or if she is, in fact, his wife. That latter point may be of concern to some who seek the moral high ground, but it's of little use in a story of bloodthirsty combat and betrayal.

I suppose I will gloss over the year or two of combat and plunder - although I have to include at least one other sea battle - before Mr. El Name Changeo pulls out all the stops after being thrown overboard.

This is not the kind of pirate story where lead characters live extended lives. Adventures only continue for those who retain a significant portion of their blood and limbs.

Perhaps Jacob was the lucky one... or maybe Bill Pratt, who lent a hand in that brief walk-on part...