Folklore Friday

The time has come, my good friends, for some more delving into North American folklore. I'm simultaneously polishing one book and plotting the next. Keeping these creatures fresh in my mind is pretty much a must. We've already taken a look at A through J, so let's move on down the alphabet, shall we?

Kachina

These creatures are also known as Koko, depending on what tribal lore you're looking into. They're spirits who apparently take the form of ducks and bring rain to the people. Some say this is done by their changing the souls of the dead into rain clouds - which, let's face it, really makes me want to invest in a heavy-duty umbrella. Something about have the dead rained on me is a bit unsettling. The Kachina also love both entertaining and disciplining children. If you happen to be in the market for a mythical babysitter, look no further.


Luferlang

If I'm being quite honest, one of the main reasons I'm including these fellows is because I enjoy saying their name. Come on, try it. Luferlang is just fun to say and, I imagine, quite interesting to see. These guys are fairly distinctive, with both a large blue stripe down enormous backs that sport tails right smack dab in their centers. Being bitten by one is certain death. Luckily for everybody, the Luferlang only bites once a year and lumberjack lore is bizarrely specific on when this "biting season" occurs. July 12. From what I've found, that's it. The biting season is one day. Biggest piece of advice, don't wear green. Drives the Luferlang crazy. If you do happen to have the misfortune of running across one on that ill-fated summer's day, don't worry. Hope is not lost. Clearly displaying an orange colored handkerchief will protect you, as will holding a mirror up so that the Luferlang sees its own reflection. There seem to be some deep-seated body issues here, as looking at its own reflection causes the Luferlang to run off in disgust. Makes me want to give it a big hug...at least it does 364 days a year.


Misiganabic

This is one of those take-the-bad-with-the-good creatures. A gigantic sea serpent, this guy is well respected by the Algonquins for keeping the waters of many different lakes around North America clean. For the most part, it seems that the misiganabic keeps its own counsel and is not looking for any trouble. Unfortunately, trouble is exactly what a person gets if they look at the misiganabic. One glance at the serpentine body that leads up to the head of a horse and you're either looking at crippling misfortune or death - which really makes it hard to enjoy those crystal clear lakes.


Nalusa Falaya

These swamp dwellers come out of Choctaw mythology and are quite the little devils. They're humanoid and pretty much covered head to toe in hair, but this doesn't exactly hide the fact that their backs are covered in sharp spines. Far more upsetting that imagining how much shampoo these guys would blow through is the fact that those spines serve a practical purpose. Once the Nalusa Falaya children shed their skin and turn into glowing spirits that attract travelers to the swamps - you know, as children are wont to do - the adults scare the humans into unconsciousness and then stab them with their spines. Considering the spines are on their backs, I guess that means that they trust fall on to a pile of fainted folks and roll around in a bloody mess. The worst part? This doesn't kill the people. Instead it brainwashes them to wake up, return to their friends and then randomly attack them. Talk about a camp ground buzzkill.


Ohdows

Out of Iroquois lore, the Ohdows are one of the three tribes of Yogah - the other two being the Gahonga (Stone Throwers) and the Gandayah (responsible for the earth's fertility). Of these three, I can say, hands down the Ohdows are the one's I'd want to tag along with on Take-A-Mortal-To-Work-Day. After all, they're responsible for controlling the monsters that live in the underworld and making sure that they don't make a break for the surface. Just show me where to sign and I'm in.


But until I get the necessary permission slip for such work, it's time to focus on the ol' manuscripts. Have a great weekend and don't follow any glowing spirits toward the swamps. If for no other reason, avoid it for your friends' sakes.

Knocking Blocks Down to Build Them Back Up

I’ve discovered something about my young nephew – nothing enrages him more than when I construct a tower of toys. No matter where he is in the room, he immediately bee-lines for my neat little stack of blocks and knocks them right the hell down.

If I manage to get them back up as he wobbles away, I am graced with a “are you f*&^ing kidding me?” look as he backtracks to destroy my creation once again with gleeful abandon.

When it comes to writing, I’m somewhat similar to my nephew in that sense. It’s all well and good for me to actually write a story, but the fun lies in tearing it all apart again when I’m done. Editing and revising? My favorite parts of writing. I love knocking all the blocks down and seeing where they fall. Only, unlike my nephew, I also love building it back up again. I keep at this process of destruction and rebuilding over and over again, until I charge at the story and find myself running into a wall I just can’t quite topple.

So, I’m off to do some glorious, bloody editing. While I’m hacking away, though, I thought I might leave you with the next round of awesome mythological creatures that the U.S. boasts.

Fastachee

This fellow is a corn spirit connected to Miccosukee and Seminole tribes. He generally appears as a dwarf and gifts people with corn. Of course, they honor him for this. How could they not? Who, in their right minds, doesn’t love corn?

Glawackus

Is it a bear? A panther? A lion? Nope. This guy appears to be a mix of all three. The glawackus is one of the “fearsome critters” of lumberjack lore and is thought to be native of Connecticut and Massachusetts. If the pantliobear description isn’t enough to keep you from going camping, then let me also warn you, the glawackus is known for his blood-curdling screams – so, bring headphones or something.

Hudson River Monster

I’m so disappointed in myself. I’m a native New Yorker and somehow I was unaware that the Hudson River was home to a cryptid described as looking like an unusually large manatee. When you consider the fact that a manatee can weigh over 1,000 pounds, an “unusually large” one would be sizable. And I missed him! The only consolation I have is that he was spotted various times in 2006 and I was down in DC at that point. Not that my location is really any excuse. I mean, his name is Kippy! I should have known about this. I have no one to blame but myself.

Ishigaq

This race of little people (akin to fairies) come from Eskimo legends. They’re about a foot tall. As they leave no footprints in the snow, they are believed to float just above the ground when they travel.

Jackalope

Another “fearsome critter” for the list! These fellows appear to call Michigan their home. They’re hard to miss, seeing as rabbits with deer antlers tend to draw attention. This becomes especially true when they start boozing it up. Jackalopes are big whiskey fans, so if you too call this your drink of choice, you’re going to want to watch that they don’t steal it. Of course, they are also able to mimic any sound. Undoubtedly, if you hear your friend calling your name, you will turn back to find your drink disappeared.

That draws today’s discussion of weird and wacky American tales to a close. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some blocks to knock down.

Rectifying Ignorance, One Argopelter at a Time

Benjamin Franklin said, “Being ignorant is not so much a shame, as being unwilling to learn.”

Which, I hope is true, considering I recently realized that there are literally dozens of creatures in American folklore of which I knew nothing until last week. A little embarrassing, really, when I consider that I am both a student of American history and a chronic consumer of folklore.

But I’m definitely willing to learn, so I’m calling it water under the bridge. More than that, it’s water filled with haietlik under the bridge.

The important thing is that thanks to the beauty of WIP research, I now have some new favorite creatures. On the off chance that any of you have the same sad gap in your knowledge that I did, it seems only right to share my findings.

So, let me explain. *pauses* No, there is too much. Let me sum up.

Or, at least, just stick to the first five creatures of awesome.

Argopelter

Starting off strong, because this guy may just be my favorite. Part of lumberjack lore, the argopelter is a lightning quick tree dweller with an ape face and super long arms that can snap trees branches right off. Once he does that, though, watch out – because if you’ve annoyed him, he can hurl those branches at you with the force of a bullet leaving a gun. Death by splinters makes an interesting epitaph.

Bakwas

A ghostly sort of fellow who seems to be looking for friends among the Kwakwaka’wakw people of coastal British Columbia. If you’re even stranded in the woods up there, think twice before taking him up on his offer of ghost food. Definitely be ready to be a forever friend, because sharing a snack is going to turn you into a bakwas as well. Here’s hoping he has an extra room in his invisible house.

Cactus Cat

Hailing from the American Southwest, this thorn covered bobcat has a armored tail and spikes coming out of its legs. Which is great, because feral cats weren’t dangerous enough already. Plus side, this cat’s a sloppy drunk – known to drink fermented juice until its all liquored up and then spend the night shrieking. Not the best of neighbors.

Dwayyo

Okay, I went to school in Washington, DC. How did I not know about cryptid feud in the Blue Ridge Mountains? On one side, the dwayyo, humanoid wolfmen. On the other, their mortal enemies, the Snallygasters – flying, blood-sucking dragons. Why? I have to assume for reasons of awesomeness.

Emogoalekc

Once a human, the gentleman fell into the sea after he accepted that due to his status as a slave he would never marry the chief’s daughter. Instead of being the end of his story, it’s instead a very strange beginning. Upon hitting the cold Pacific waters, he turned into a sea creature. Following this, the only people who saw him were those who would one day be chief.

I’ll stop there for today, but definitely expect some more creature convos as I get further into this draft. And if you have a favorite creature of American folklore, let me know! 

Greek Musings

My dad and I used to watch the old Greek mythology movies, like Jason and the Argonauts and Clash of the Titans, and I would laugh at the arrogant gods playing with the lives of mere toga-ed mortals on an actual chessboard. Afterward, I would take my shower and in my never ending quest for curlier hair, put it into as many braids as I could, hoping against hope that it would look awesome in the morning. Upon seeing this, my father would call me Medusa for the rest of the night and pretend to turn to stone when I looked at him.

As I drifted off into sleep, I would think of the monsters that I would like to battle. The hydra and Cerberus were always favorites. (Apparently, I had a thing for creatures with too many heads.) Due to my prowess as a detective, I figured I could outthink the sphinx. Same went for the labyrinth. I was a little nervous about the whole Minotaur situation, but I figured I’d cross that bridge when I came to it. Most likely with the help of a valiant steed.

I was fully confident that as soon as I got my own winged horse, I’d be good to go. (Despite having never actually gotten my winged horse, I still feel this way. So, if you happen upon such a creature and want to point him in my direction, I would be much obliged.)

Nowadays, I have a growing interest in the Muses, particularly Thalia, Melpomene and Cleo (specialists in comedy, tragedy and history, respectively). No disrespect to the rest of the group, but, while I greatly enjoy it, I’ve just never been all that inclined to write poetry or music. So, I’m tapping these other three in, if they’re feeling so inclined as to help me out.

I’ll admit, I haven’t heard back from them yet, regarding my invitation to join me in literary creation, but I figure it’s only a matter of time. Right?

Until they contact me, I'll muddle along on my own, and count the days until I’m done with school and can finally get to my non-degree reading list. At the top of which is Gary Corby’s The Pericles Commission. An investigator solving mysteries on “the mean streets of Classical Athens”?? Count me in.

I suddenly have “Zero to Hero,” from Disney’s Hercules stuck in my head. Awesome.

If now you do, too…..you’re welcome.