My Journey to the Gates of Asgard

While in college, I remember being subject to several lectures, embroiled in mounds of reading assignments, and challenged to the limit with writing projects. In general, I remember many of those tasks, but specifics completely elude me. However, I do remember some profound words of one of my favorite professors. They are words I’ve often repeated to my own writing students: Writing is hard work.

Many of my students struggle with the task of writing, often expressing their displeasure in the form of moans and whines. I think most students expect the skill to just happen; when it doesn’t, they give up. It’s sad when they do. But I have to admit; when they express the desire to quit, I can honestly say that I understand – I get it.

While writing the third book in the Zeke Proper Chronicles – The Gates of Asgard - I’ve often found myself on the brink of quitting, simply giving up and instead spending my evenings tinkering with some woodworking tools in my garage rather than wasting my time in my tiny office trying to work out another complicated scene. But I’ve persevered. I think the reason I have is because I want to find out how the story ends just as much as my loyal readers. In my experience, I’ve discovered that Zeke’s story wants itself to be told. I can’t even begin to count the number of times I’ve sat down at my computer, having in mind a particular direction I think I want the story to take when I’m suddenly blindsided. The tale begins to tell itself, taking me in directions I would have never imagined. Sure, the process has been hard. It’s been a challenge that has frustrated me with elated highs and bitter lows, moments of pure inspiration and instances of harsh disappointment. But I think that’s what’s made it all worth it. If I didn’t have to work for it, then where would the satisfaction be?

As it stands, The Gates of Asgard is complete. It’s going through some final edits, but for the most part the rest of the story’s been told – and it’s really good. I’m not just saying that because I wrote it. I’m saying that because, really, I didn’t write it. It wrote itself, and it will take you on a journey that will blow your mind. 

Book Three of The Zeke Proper Chronicles -The Gates of Asgard

Brad Cameron

Release date May 2014

Loki's Flyting

From its source in the Lokasenna, there is a unique Norse poem taken from the Elder Edda. Its title “Loki’s Flyting” – the term flyting or fliting meaning a contest consisting of the exchange of insults, often conducted in verse, between two parties – is the story of a feast between the gods, their sadness over the death of Balder causing them to abandon the hall of Asgard for the island of Hlesey. There, the gods are served copious amounts of ale prepared at the hands of Aegir, the caretaker of the island. As the tale unfolds, we are at once again reminded of Loki’s treachery in the murder of Balder and how the gods are becoming more and more aware that it was he who was responsible for the beloved god’s death. Nevertheless, Loki, the bold, rash, mischievous imp that he is, strides into the feast unannounced, much to the immediate displeasure of the rest of the gods.

The tale begins with Loki asking for a drink of ale, but is told, in no uncertain terms by the god Bragi: “The gods will no longer make room and give you a place amongst them. You’re not the kind of company they want at a feast.”

Loki, now feeling the bitter stares of those who sit around him, does the one thing he does best: insults them. He begins with Bragi – “Bragi the beggar,” Loki said. “You’ve never had a horse or a ring to your name, and you never will have. Of all the gods and elves in this hall, you’re the greatest coward.” And so he continues until he’s insulted each and every god in the room, including Odin, with his biting words.

(c): disney.wikia

Finally, it is Thor’s entrance that causes a mighty change to come over the gathering: “Loki was so carried away by his flight of words that he did not see that Thor had walked into Aegir’s hall. ‘Hold your tongue, you scum,’ Thor roared, ‘or my hammer Mjollnir will shut your mouth! I’ll swipe your shoulder-stone off your neck and that will be the end of you!’”

Loki, his smug expression ever present, lashes out at Thor. “Look everyone, here’s the Son of Earth! What a blustering bully you are, Thor. But you’ll be less fierce when you grapple with Fenrir and see him gulp down Odin, the Father of Victory.”

Thor, being angered even more by Loki’s threatening words, continues to brandish his hammer, his grip on Mjollnir tight and menacing.

 

Nevertheless, one thing that can always be remembered about Loki, the Sky-Traveler and the Changer of Shapes, is that for all his brash words and threats, he is but a coward.

“Loki paused and looked defiantly around him and then addressed himself to the host. ‘You’ve brewed fine ale, Aegir, but you’ll never hold another feast such as this.’”

It is here that Loki once again foretells the fate of the gods in the coming of Ragnarok. “Flickering flames will gorge on this hall and gut it and destroy everything you own; your body will be flayed by fire.”

Loki then takes one more fleeting glance at Thor who stands before him with his hammer raised, ready to strike. “I will take my leave now,” Loki said, his voice quivering slightly with fear. “I know all about your strength, Thor.”

Loki quickly turns and goes, his terrible, prophetic words echoing round the walls. For a long time after he leaves, the gods continue to sit in silence, Loki’s words spinning in their minds. Then in silence they leave.

The Real Loki

It seems that we’ve been inundated lately by the influence of Marvel Comics and Hollywood’s take on the Norse gods. Thor has risen to the top as a super hero, and Loki, incorrectly identified by the movie makers as Thor’s brother, has taken part in the flood-lit stage right beside him. Many movie-goers and comic book readers delight in the entertainment. I’ve even found myself drifting toward the movie theatre for a first hand glimpse at the latest edition to the Avengers, happily finding myself cheering along with the rest of the crowd - it is, with out a doubt, a very enjoyable experience. 

(c) http://thenorsegods.com/loki/

However, avid readers of The Zeke Proper Chronicles, especially those who have read book two, The Serpent’s ship, tend to approach me with the same question: The Loki in your books is very different from the one in the movie. Why is that? The answer is simple. My attempt in writing The Zeke Proper Chronicles is to try and give the reader a glimpse into the mind of a child living in a Danish Village in the year 793 AD. My goal is to allow the reader an opportunity to hear and understand the stories of Odin, Thor, and Loki as they might have been related around a peat burning fire, or within sight of a stone-walled corral where cattle and sheep may have been penned up for the night as protection from wolves and bears. Though entertainment is still my goal, authenticity is a close second.

Abounding in my retelling of the Norse myths are several sections where I take creative liberties. Zeke, Devon, and Taylre often take the place of characters in the myths to give the retelling a focus. Nevertheless, I try to keep it real. In book three, The Gates of Asgard, Zeke finds himself on a quest to locate gold to supplicate the dragon, Nidhogg. The real story, however, features Loki as the raider of treasure as he attempts to find ransom for Otter’s family. Here’s a brief retelling of the actual story:

"Loki came to a silent pool filled with water that seemed to spring from nowhere and flow nowhere.

Loki spread out a finely spun meshed net and cast it into the pool. He pulled it in and there, furiously lashing and writhing, was a large pike snared in the net.

Avoiding its nasty looking teeth, Loki grabbed hold of the pike, shaking it roughly. ‘First,’ he said, looking into its dark yellow eyes, ‘you’ll change shape.’

The pike shivered, quivering in its scaly fish form, when suddenly it changed, the air shimmering around it, and turned into the dwarf Andvari.

'What do you want?‘ whined Andvari.

"What I want is all your gold,’ Loki said. ‘Otherwise I’ll wring you out like a piece of washing.’

Andvari shuddered with fear. He led Loki through a twisting chamber into his smithy. The Dwarf spread out his hands and shrugged.

'Gather it up!’ Loki ordered.

Andvari turned reluctantly and began scrambling around, gathering gold into two large sacks. Then, grunting, he dragged them across the smithy and stood with them in front of Loki.

'What about that ring?’ Loki said, pointing at the dwarf’s tightened fist.

‘Let me keep it,’ Andvari begged. ‘Just this, then I’ll be able to make more gold.’

Loki stepped forward and forced open Andvari’s fist, seizing the ring and stuffing it in the sack. ‘What is not freely given must be taken by force,’ Loki said.

Loki turned and began walking out of the smithy. ‘Take that ring!’ yelled the dwarf, ‘and a curse shall follow it. That and the gold that you forcefully take from me!’

Loki turned around and smiled. ‘If,’ said Loki. ‘If I repeat your words to those who receive this gold, then your curse will come true.’ Then he turned and made his way out of the world of the dark elves into Midgard.”

Loki, a nasty, selfish fellow indeed. But more impish and foolish then superhero. So, take a moment to become familiar with The Zeke Proper Chronicles. Book three will be out soon. When it appears, you’ll have the rest of the story.

Making the Myths Innocent

Perhaps my biggest struggle in trying to write YA fiction that borrows from Norse Mythology, is attempting to tame stories that can sometimes be full of rather bawdy material. The real labor is in trying to turn them into something considered innocent. Sometimes the task becomes a process of pure translation as I take a story like “The Necklace of the Brisings” - a tale that has the goddess Freyja spending four nights in a row with four different dwarfs - and then retell it, introducing my main characters into the roles normally reserved for mythical creatures. The subject of extreme violence can also be problematic. For instance, the myth of “Thor and Geirrod” - a story that portrays a violent, rather grotesque death - describes Thor hurling a flaming ball of iron at a giant, puncturing a large hole in his midriff. In my retelling, Zeke Proper takes on the role of Thor and begins to discover his own hidden, inner strengths.
           
As an example, I would like to delve into the next installment of the Zeke Proper Chronicles: The Gates of Asgard. I will begin by exposing portions of Chapter Twelve: “Geirrod’s Stronghold“. In keeping with the adventures that the Mist plays in the young hero’s quest, the narrative has the Proper brothers, Zeke and Devon trapped in the Mist in a palace made of roughly hewn timber and logs. The stronghold belongs to Geirrod, a giant who, in the original telling of the myth, faces off with Thor in a furnace-filled room. The furnaces contain molten iron that Geirrod picks up with tongs and hurls at Thor. Geirrod’s hatred toward the god is magnified because Thor killed Hrungnir - strongest of all the giants. However, Thor takes the battle in the end because he catches the tossed ball of fire in his iron gloves. After a moment of hesitation, Thor hurls the ball back at Geirrod, thus destroying him.
           
The Zeke Proper Chronicles’ version goes something like this:

Zeke and Devon followed the servant…Soon they arrived in their original place of captivity, a place where the ceiling domed high, where the walls were covered with pine logs, and where the smoke of furnace fires drifted heavy in the air, making the room too warm for comfort. Staring at them from the far end of the hall was a giant of a man. His hair was long and hung past his shoulders in blond and red waves. A bristly beard of the same color covered his face. He was tall, but more than that, he was strong. Neck muscles flexed when he moved, blending with ripples of strength in his arms and chest.

Geirrod stretched forth his hand, but it was not to greet Zeke or Devon; it was to pick up a pair of tongs. With them, he reached toward one of the red-hot furnaces and retrieved a glowing piece of coal.
           
“Welcome to my palace!” he shouted, and aimed the fiery lump straight at Zeke.     Zeke continued to stare, feeling as if time had suddenly stopped as he watched the sizzling missile advance toward his face.  At the last moment, just before the red-hot coal struck him, he bent, his thigh muscle crying out in pain. The burning lump of coal jetted past him, struck the log wall behind, and sputtered to a dead, black ember.
           
“Ah! You’re quick, boy. I’m quicker, though. In the end I’ll see ya burn!”
           
Devon ran up from behind Zeke, grabbing him by the shoulder. “The staff, you idiot! Use the staff!”
           
Zeke rose quickly and used the strength of his arms to push himself into a standing position. He gripped the staff with both hands holding it like a baseball bat. Geirrod sent another molten missile at Zeke’s face, but this time Zeke stood his ground with his feet square and his eyes watching as the ball of fire approached.    
           
Zeke swung Sinmora’s staff with every ounce of strength he possessed. He connected with the glowing coal like a major-leaguer, its trajectory bending toward Geirrod. Everyone who stood as witness in the great hall, giants and dwarfs alike, scrambled under the tables as Geirrod himself tried to step behind one of the hall supports. However, the fiery ball punched through the support, passing through the giant’s midriff, and continuing through the wooden wall finally lodging itself in an earth slope outside the building.
           
Geirrod stood up straight - a strange, defeated look on his face - and looked down at the hole in his chest. He gasped and then hissed, as if all of the hate and venom built up inside him suddenly escaped. He gave one violent jerk, gurgled and was dead.

The third installment of The Zeke Proper Chronicles - The Gates of Asgard will be out this summer. Order your copies of Book One and Two and get caught up in the myth.

-Brad