The Giant's Tomb
I’ve been a bit quiet here, haven’t I?
I know. Between the renovations on our house, the dogs, and losing one of the horses, it was all I could do to keep myself writing.
A few months ago I started on a story that featured a midwife in a world where society has fallen apart after WW4. The story begins in what is left of Brussels, and moves to the Ardennes. To Wéris, a little town I have fond memories of. Just like I have of Brussels, where I went to college.
The story combines that post-apocalyptic setting with an old myth that has always spoken to me. That of the horse Bayard. Bayard has put out roots in many towns, including the region of Wéris and Dinant, where a number of cloven rocks are still named after him. Legends have it that they split under the pressure of his hooves.
The story, Leap of the Horse, was finished about six months ago. My plan, originally, was to write a number of short stories in the same world, with the same characters.
Then I started on story number two, and it ran away with me. The Giant’s Tomb begins in Wéris, but leaves its menhirs and stone tables to travel to Bottasart, a little village I have more fond memories of. It’s home to Le Tombeau du Géant. The Giant’s Tomb.
The tomb is a wooded hill nestled in a crook of the Semois river.
When you look at it from the top of the valley, it looks like a face, so the name is not a far stretch. Anyway, this story has become a runaway train, despite my resolute decision not to let it become a novel.
So, the first draft of the not-a-novel stands at 35000 words as of Sunday.
Despite the fact that it insists on growing, this story has me super excited. It weaves together the history, magic, and mythology of my very own backyard with a story set in a dismal future, where people struggle to support themselves and their community while society has fallen apart.
So, stay tuned, I guess. The Giant’s Tomb is headed your way..