Guest Blogger Faith Van Horne on Atlantis in Fiction

Both Faith Van Horne and I have used myths of Atlantis in our latest books. Here’s what she says about it.

Playing with Mythic History

By Faith Van Horne

When I started germinating ideas for my young adult novel Slideways, I didn’t know the lost continent of Atlantis would play a part. But by the time I’d created my character sheets and a rough plot outline, it had become a significant setting for the story. However, the version of Atlantis that appears in Slideways bears little resemblance to the island Plato described. I researched the myths, played with the history, and came up with an alternate past (and present) that suited my novel.

One of the possible locations for the mythic isle is the present-day island of Santorini. In its factual history, Santorini experienced a huge volcanic eruption that caused the center portion of a much larger island to slide into the sea. According to Plato, Atlantis sunk into the ocean in a single day. Santorini now consists of the crescent shaped shell of the former island, which fit my story perfectly. Why? Because in my version, that round crater wasn’t caused by the earth crumbling beneath the waves. Instead, the guardians of Atlantis magically transported the island to a separate dimension. But they didn’t have the power to take all of the land with them, so a small portion remains here in our world.

In my mythic history I blend magical elements with fringe science, which is quite fun. See, in Slideways, all magic that once existed originated from Atlantis and flowed outward to the rest of our world. But instead of using magic for peaceful ends, non-Atlanteans used it to gain wealth, power, success in war, and so forth. The elders of Atlantis became enraged, and vowed to cut off their peaceful nation, and its power, from  those who would abuse it. So they cast a powerful spell that cut out the center of Atlantis from our world, transporting it to its own. In (pseudo) scientific terms, they created their own pocket universe. A single element, the book containing the spell, was hidden here to maintain the
existential barrier.

The upshot of the island’s departure was that our magic source was cut off, leaving us with our current mundane existence. But the spell couldn’t last forever. It required constant magical energy to keep that universe intact. As Slideways opens, our antagonist discovers the hidden spell book and removes it. This simple action leads to cracks in reality when the spell begins to lose its power. Our heroine, because of her psychic bond to one of Atlantis’ residents, is the only one able to keep the growing rip between the worlds from destroying them both.

I took liberties with the myth because an Atlantis sitting in a pocket universe was better for my story than one destroyed by the ocean. Instead of rising from the sea, the island causes magical stress on our world, creating tension in the novel. And that’s what writing fantasy fiction is all about.

If you want to try a fun writing exercise, start with an existing myth. Then take that story and ask, “What if?” Turn the satyr into a bank teller, or Tartarus into a greasy spoon. Even if you don’t come out with a fully fleshed story, you’ll have a great time.

Bio: Faith Van Horne’s short works have appeared in Beyond Centauri, Poor Mojo’s Almanac(k), and other online publications. She is the blog editor for Loconeal Publishing, an independent book publisher in Ohio. She keeps her own blog at faithvanhorne.blogspot.com, and you can follow her on Twitter @fvanhorne.

 

Guest Blogging at Genre Author

A.J. Walker was kind enough to let me drop by and blog about the Red and White Springs of Glastonbury. In Beneath the Hallowed Hill, White Spring is failing. Anne and Michael must discover why and restore the flow. In this blog, I talk about why these two springs are so important.

 

Guest Blogger A.J. Walker–Ancient Monuments

Beneath the Hallowed Hill is set in Avalon, home of the Tor and the Twin Springs. One scene takes place in Avebury, the largest megalithic monument in the world. Medievalist and archaeologist A.J. Walker drops by to talk about ancient stone monuments in “Fertility, chastity, and ancient monuments.”

The landscape of Western Europe is dotted with megalithic ruins as well as strange natural rock formations. These enigmatic stones have created an entire mythology around them that’s probably only vaguely related to their original purpose.

Take this naturally cleft stone pictured above in this photo courtesy of Lisa Jarvis. It’s a naturally occurring rock on top of a Celtic hill fort at Traprain Law in Scotland. The little one is called the Maiden Stone, and the big one is the Mother Stone. If you pass naked between them you’ll get good luck and lots of kids.

This is a common legend for both natural and artificial stones. In European folklore, it seems to be the women who are more interested in them, so it’s no surprise that many of the legends have to do with fertility and childbirth. A married woman had to have children to have status, yet childbirth was often fatal. A little help from the stones must have put many a worried mind to rest!

People were especially attracted to stone circles where one of the stones had a hole through it. Babies would be passed through the hole to give them health or luck, or women would crawl through to ensure fertility. At the Odin Stone in the Orkneys, men and women would join hands through the hole in order to get married. At the Mên-an-Tol in Cornwall, pictured here in a photo courtesy of Jane Osborne. Babies with rickets would be passed through naked to cure them. For some reason these folklore cures often required a person to be naked in public, something frowned on in a traditional society. This added a layer of danger and rebelliousness to the ritual.

The Bhacain in Scotland is different than other stones. It’s a monolith (what we archaeologists called a menhir) but it curves around like a P. In the 19th century, women leaving the Highlands to take jobs in the city would sit under the overhang to ensure they didn’t get pregnant while away from the stern protective gaze of their parents. Most menhirs look pretty phallic and were used for fertility rituals. Perhaps because The Bhacain is a bit droopy it was believed to have the opposite effect!

A.J. Walker is the author of Roots Run Deep, a fantasy novel published by Double Dragon. He works as a medievalist and archaeologist in England.