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.

Guest Blog - J. Keller Ford

This week, I am excited to announce J. Keller Ford as my guest blogger. 

As a young Army brat, Reader's Choice award winner J. (Jenny) Keller Ford, traveled the world and wandered the halls of some of Germany's most extraordinary castles hoping to find the dragons, knights and magic that haunted her imagination. Though she never found them, she continues to keep their legends alive. Her story, The Amulet of Ormisez, is available as part of the MAKE BELIEVE anthology. Dragon Flight, is slated for publication in December 2013. When not at her keyboard breathing new life into fantasy worlds, Jenny spends time collecting seashells, bowling, swimming, riding roller coasters and reading. She works as a paralegal by day and lives on the west coast of Florida with her family, three dogs, and a pretentious orange cat who must have been a dragon in his previous life.

What is there not to love about YA fantasy, science fiction and dystopians?  Today, they top the charts with both young and old readers alike. Authors like Cassandra Claire (City of Bones, et. al), J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter), Veronica Roth, (Divergent)”, and Stephanie Meyer (Twilight) are household names, ranking up there with the likes of C.S. Lewis, Lewis Carroll, J.R. R. Tolkien and Roald Dahl.  But what makes these stories so popular, and why do so many authors, including myself, want to join the ranks? 

To me, YA FanSiFiTopians are the ultimate escape.  Whether set in an urban town, a destroyed society or in a different world with magical strange creatures and beings, young adult literature opens the mind to possibilities, imagination, and the conviction, even as adults, that anything can happen if you believe.  Tap into the teen side of you, the one that is invincible, the one that can take on the world.  Stop being a grown up.  For me, tapping into that young adult part of me provides freedom and unlimited possibilities, not only in my writing but in my perspective of the world.

Writing YA fantasy is exhilarating to me.  I’m not confined to a certain set of laws, reality.  I can create my own worlds and civilizations.  Whatever rules there are, I make up.  I decide.  The universe is mine to toy with.  If I want dragons to have tea time or monkeys to ride on the backs of pterodactyls, I have the power to make it happen.  The only limitation is my imagination.  The hard part is making the reader suspend their beliefs long enough to come along with me on the journey.

Easy?  Yes and no.  Writing fantasy means letting your imagination go while equally balancing it with reality.  Readers need something, someone they can connect with when they read fantasy.  They need a reason to go on the journey.  Characters have to have traits that are relatable.  Scenery needs to be familiar.  Magic needs to be obtainable.  For me, friends, family, strangers are a wonderful source of inspiration.  I listen to conversations, watch the way people move. I study people.  Do they have a contagious smile, Confidence?  Swagger?  For scenery, I look around me. I pull on memories of where I’ve been in my life and if I can, I travel.  I was lucky as a child to have traveled around the world.  My inspiration for writing fantasy came at a very early age while hopping from one German castle to another, walking the ancient towns, touring the ancient ruins, and staring in awe at Neuschwanstein, longing to claim that castle and its grounds as my own. Wondering what it would be like to battle a dragon clinging to one of its many towers.  Escaping through hidden passages. While the internet and books are amazing for research, they don’t take the place of actual hands-on contact.  Once you feel it, touch it, you know how you can manipulate it.  At least that’s what I find works best for me.

Of course, not everyone can travel so they must rely on the internet and books for research.  I, myself, have had to rely on several sources to learn medieval terminology, the types of clothes different classes of people wore and what they were called.  I think the more we educate ourselves in reality and cultures, the more ability we have to twist them to our wants and needs.  Once we incorporate reality with fiction, the reader begins to suspend belief. 

What also helps me in writing is taking what the experts say about writing to heart…and then tossing it out the window.  What makes these best-selling authors, best-selling?  They broke the rules.  They gave the world something it didn’t have.  They dared to be different, to be bold.  I think it’s important to follow our gut, find our own style, our own rhythm, and stop trying to be the next Rowling or Meyers. Be yourself.  Be genuine.

I have also found that it works best to just write until the novel is finished.  I used to be one of these people who had to revise Chapter 1 a gazillion times before moving on to Chapter 2.  What a silly way to tackle a project.  My advice…write.  Write, write, write until you put “The End” on the final page.  There’ll be plenty of time for edits once your novel is finished and you pop it out to trusty beta readers/critique partners in your target audience group.  Yes, it hurts, but it is necessary to let the rabid dogs rip your manuscript apart.  Trust me; a great beta reader will remove one layer of tarnish after another until your masterpiece shines.  I would be lost without my beta readers.  I cannot put a price on how valuable they are.  And I know when that manuscript is finally polished, I’m ready to take the next step…submission.

But that’s an entirely different beast all together.

Thank you, Brad, for hosting me.  It’s been fun.

 

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Published works:

 

Dragon Flight - ONE MORE DAY anthology - J. Taylor Publishing.  Releases December 2, 2013

 

 

The Amulet of Ormisez - Make Believe Anthology; J. Taylor Publishing - Released December 2, 2012

 

 

 

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.

Origins of the Korrigan

In Book One of The Zeke Proper Chronicles: Odin’s Light, I introduce readers to a creature that temporarily occupies the deep dark waters of the Stick River. A meandering river located near the ocean side town of Alder Cove, the Stick is a place shrouded in darkness and mystery. Its location is considered haunted. None of the inhabitants of the town of Alder Cove go there - well, almost none of them. It is a site to be shunned and has been for centuries. Why? Because it’s where the Korrigan goes to lie in wait for its payment for years of prosperity - the sacrifice of Alder Cove.

So what exactly is the Korrigan and what are its roots?

Much of what I include in the stories of Zeke Proper are references to Norse mythology. Sort of a retelling of the stories with slightly different characters and circumstances. The Korrigan, however, finds its beginnings in Celtic mythology. Originally found in Irish literature, most of us are probably aware of references to banshees, which actually means "woman of fairy mound" or just simply as "fairy woman". Ban or bean meaning "woman".

(c) Wikipedia Commons

In Irish and Scottish Gaelic folklore traditions the banshee came to mean a female wraith or spirit, whose terrifying howls foretell the death of a particular person in a specific household. This banshee was tied to a person or family, sort of like an attendant fairy. (Note how this coincides with the Proper Family).

In my telling of Odin’s Light, I have taken the myth of the Banshee and combined her with the Breton fairy woman known as the Korrigan, a type of banshee that not only foretells a death, but also causes it. Then, I took this a step further, relating the banshee to the Washer or Washer-woman at the Ford, known in Scottish folklore as “bean nighe”.

"Bean nighe” was a Scottish Gaelic name for the Washer at the Ford. The Washer or Washerwoman can be found in almost every Celtic culture. In the Scottish Gaelic tradition, the washer is the harbinger of death.

According to the Scottish Gaelic tradition, the bean nighe was a woman who died at child birth. She was described as a woman dressed in green, but can be recognized by her webbed feet standing next to a stream or lake, washing bloodstained clothes of those who would die.

Of course there are Celtic myths that surround these creatures and they carry with them the same kind of foreboding that the Korrigan in Odin’s Light carries with it. In this retelling, I take my information from www.timelessmyths.com.

The most common female fairies in the Breton tradition are the korrigans that resided in the woods, especially at Broceliande, often near a stream, spring or fountain. She was a fairy that seeks a mortal lover.

The korrigan was probably a pagan druidess originally. She was equated with gwragedd annwn – the Welsh fairies of the lake and streams.

She tried to seduce mortal men who would drink from her water. Finding them unawares she would attempt to lure a weary traveler to sleep with her. If the man refused her advance or seduction, she would angrily curse him to a doom. This is what happened to the Seigneur of Nann.

The Seigneur was married to a woman whom he loved. One day, his wife asked for some May-blossoms from the forest. The Seigneur rode out, but during his ride, he became thirsty and drank the water from a nearby fountain. Here, the Seigneur encountered the Korrigan who demanded that he sleep with her. But the Seigneur angrily refused because he was faithful to his wife and rode away after hearing that he would die in three days. He turned and rode from the woodland as a man possessed. As he drew homeward he was overshadowed by a sense of coming ill. At the gate of his château stood his mother, anxious to greet him with good news of his bride and the child she would soon bear him. But with averted eyes he addressed her in the refrain so familiar to the folk-poetry of all lands: 

"My good mother, if you love me, make my bed. I am sick unto death. Say not a word to my bride. For within three days I shall be laid in the grave. A Korrigan has done me evil."

The priest, his mother and other people kept the secret of his fate from his wife. Three days later, the Seigneur's mother finally told her daughter-in-law the truth. The wife died of broken heart and was buried beside the Seigneur.

The tragedy that surrounds the evil summons of the Breton Korrigan is also the kind of tragedy that encompasses the lives of Zeke and the rest of his family in Odin’s Light. As you read on in the books that follow in the Zeke Proper Chronicles, you will discover that the appearance of the Korrigan is only the beginning of a very long and arduous journey for the story’s hero.

-Brad

Guest Blog- Courtney Pierce

This week's guest blog is by a friend and fellow author.  Courtney Pierce is a fiction writer and lives Milwaukie, Oregon, with her husband of thirty-four years and bossy cat. Her passion to write came from sitting in a theater seat. She studied what moved audiences as incredible stories unfolded on the stage. After a twenty-year career as a marketing executive in the Broadway entertainment industry, she made the leap to full-time fiction writer in 2011.

 

A Boomer Couple’s Magical Legacy

So, is my book happy speculative fiction?

Possibly peppy Baby Boomer paranormal?

It’s magical realism. The real can be magical.

In my trilogy series, the ghosts give guidance outside of the boundaries of life; a reach-out with answers of right and wrong beyond the lessons of their long-ago earthly upbringing. The immortals are sweeter than Leave it to Beaver; more honest than All in the Family.

The first book, Stitches, introduces two childless Baby Boomers who want a little magic in their lives after thirty-two years in the corporate grind. They’ve sold out to corporate America, and corporate America, in turn, sold them out. That’s when they discover a magical piece of fabric in an old chest from estate sale.

Heirlooms really do have a life of their own, and so do their former owners in the afterlife. The fabric holds the key to immortality—and it takes the couples’ lives from ordinary to extraordinary. While my books are not without their deadly moments, my protagonists embrace the magic in their life—real magic. They are life spies with secret information and use it to solve crimes with the FBI. They want to get the bad guys. But the underlying theme is this couple’s struggle with the choice of becoming immortal with the fabric. For them, the prospect of immortality ignites a quest for adventure, to right the wrongs in society, and also to create a lasting legacy in this life.

They use their magical power to help people, choosing to make the most of the here and now against the ticking clock.

In life’s third act, leaving a legacy is important. And it becomes even more important when you don’t have children. Who wants to fade away with a remote control in their hand without having done something significant? My characters want to help people one person at a time. No fanfare. No recognition. And they don’t want their names on a building. In fact, they want to stay anonymous.

What would you do if you had the choice to become immortal? Would you make the most of what you have today? Or, would you live for the eternal life that’s waiting for you on the other side?

Hmmm...questions to ponder.

Baby Boomers are retiring at a rate of over ten thousand per day. I’m one of them, smack in the middle at fifty-four. My husband is sixty-two and still believes that vinyl records are superior technology to anything else out there. I think he might be right. We think of ourselves as immortal, stuck in a time when we stood up for what’s right and pounded our feet on the pot-holed pavement of wrongs. Like the music we listened to, we’ll never die. We’re spurred on to victory by Pink Floyd, Bruce Springsteen, Woody Guthrie, and Iggy Pop.

Oh....and we believe that animals know more than people do.

It may sound Pollyanna, but look at the courage of those in Egypt who are fighting for a better life. Not so Pollyanna. Not so far off from society’s turning point in the 1960s.

Leaving a legacy is not easy. What’s going to be yours? 

 

 

Stitches is the first book of a trilogy about a boomer couple’s journey of living with magic. It’s a little Antiques Roadshow and History Detectives combined with the sparkling relationship of Nick and Nora Charles of The Thin Man series—with a magical twist.

Stitches is available at Amazon.com in soft cover and as an e-book for the Kindle. Other e-book formats are available at Smashwords.com.

Brushes, the second book of the series, will be released in September, 2013. The third book, Riffs, is due out in 2014.

The Viking Influence

It has been a wonderful summer. The weather has been warm and pleasant and my days away from the classroom have been dotted with scattered book signings in bookstores and at renaissance fairs and festivals. My summer has also been marked with a remarkable tour of the British Isles. During my two-week sojourn, I had the opportunity to visit many historic and pastoral locations in England, Ireland, and Scotland as well as a brief stopover in Paris. I was particularly amazed by the beauty of Ireland and Scotland, but most importantly, I was impressed by the deeply ingrained history of these locations. I marveled at the fact that I could enter a building that was over a thousand years old, one that was still being used. I often consider the idea that here, in the Pacific Northwest, we have nothing that even comes close to that. Occasionally, while I’m out riding my bicycle in the rural areas near my home I’ll come across a farm that has a sign marking it as a century old establishment, but that’s about as close as we come. I was also impressed by the varied influences that still exist in these countries from past conquerors, from the Romans all the way back to the Vikings, whose first recorded raid on the Celtic inhabitants occurred somewhere around 793 AD. Many of the tour guides that I met during my travels seemed to perk up when they began retelling the tales that included the ferocious manner of these attackers from the far north. The way they swept into peaceful communities completely unannounced and left nothing behind them in their wake, appeared to set the stage for a land that would witness carnage and supremacy for control for the next one thousand years. The Vikings, it seems, were among the first to set the stage for the nation’s bloody history.

 

It is perhaps a morbid curiosity of my own that draws me to the study and appreciation for the Vikings. In book three of The Zeke Proper Chronicles, The Gates of Asgard, I do a lot of retelling of the old myths. I have spent many hours perusing the stories. In doing so I believe I have identified the relationship between the real lives of the Norseman to his myths. Within the stories I can see the spirit and confidence of the Viking, his boundless curiosity, extreme bravery, clannish loyalty, generosity and discipline. However, I also see the arrogance and lack of compassion, his treachery, ruthlessness and his cruelty, a fact that is embodied in the figure of Loki, a character that is portrayed prominently in both books two and three of The Zeke Proper Chronicles.

So many of us are familiar with the tales of the Greek and Roman gods, but amazingly, we are mostly unfamiliar with Norse myth. What I have discovered on my journey to the British Isles is that the Viking is in fact a part of my own tradition and anyone else whose ancestors hail from the old country. The myths are part of our folklore, too, and we should be no less familiar with them than with the classical myths. The Norse myths speak for a dynamic culture and they speak of human longings and mysteries. So, allow yourself some time to explore The Zeke Proper Chronicles and let them speak for themselves.

The Warrior Within: Lessons From the Valkyries

Lately I’ve been spending a lot of time editing, a process that never seems to end for an author. My first novel, Odin’s Light, will appear very soon in its third edition. The Serpent’s Ship will follow very quickly with its second edition and The Gates of Asgard, the third book in The Zeke Proper Chronicles, is scheduled for its first publication in late September.

The hours I have spent in front of my computer making revisions to my work has allowed me the opportunity to revisit specific scenes in my novels that I am particularly proud. For instance, near the end of The Serpent’s Ship, during an especially intense scene, Zeke faces imminent death. At a moment when it appears that all is at a loss, a miracle happens.

“Finally, Zeke, gaining a measure of courage, took his eyes off Loki, feeling the presence of another person nearby.The woman who appeared to Zeke’s right was beautiful. He stared at her in complete amazement as her still, tall, and slender form, commanded instant authority. Zeke felt an immediate desire to obey whatever command she put forth; her power and strength was at once recognizable.”

Before him, standing regally and authoritatively is one of the Valkyrie. Zeke describes her like this:

“Her hair was long and blond, braided down the length of her back and held fast with a solid gold clasp. Her features were sharp with high cheekbones and her skin was completely unblemished, as if she were Galatea herself, a polished sculpture that would soon take on a life of its own. Her eyes were a striking aqua blue, the color of a warm tropical sea, and from them there seemed to radiate an intensity that held power and confidence. In her left hand, she held a shield bejeweled with what appeared to be rubies and diamonds. In her right, she held a sword that glimmered with a light that shone from the woman herself. Her frame was covered with sparkling armor that extended to her knees, and her feet were shod with sandals, leather straps wrapped crisscross up the length of her calves.”

Norse mythology describes the Valkyrie as a group of twelve women warriors who assist the All Father, Odin, in his task as keeper and gatherer of the fallen warriors - those valiant souls who die bravely in battle. Their mission is to scoop down on the field of war and gather the dieing heroes, transporting their souls to the great halls of Vahalla. Among the Valkyrie are Shaker, Mist, Axe Time and Raging. These also take turns filling Odin’s horn with mead while the other Valkyrie tend to the needs of the fallen warriors as they celebrate by feasting, drinking and fighting in the great hall. It is important to consider that their only focus is to the fallen warrior. They care not for those who have died from age or sickness. It therefore leads one to consider why a Valkyrie would choose to appear to our lowly hero, Zeke Proper.
Near the end of her brief visit with Zeke, the Valkyrie asks a question.

Shaker, the woman, the stalwart figure who stood beside Zeke, shifted her eyes and stared at him. “You must leave the Mist now,” she ordered, her lack of emotion unsettling.“First tell me who are you,” Zeke said. “Where did you come from?”The woman seemed to pause, and though Zeke wasn’t completely sure, because her expressions were subtle, he could have sworn that she was troubled by the direct question. As if it had never happened before.“I am Shaker,” she finally answered. “I am one of the twelve sisters who serve Odin. We are the Valkyrie. It is our charge to watch over the warriors and bring them home to Vahalla.” She stopped speaking and her eyes softened. She turned and looked directly at Zeke.“Are you a warrior, Zeke Proper?”

Zeke is taken back by the question, but answers her simply:

“No,” he answered quietly. “No, I am certainly no warrior.” 

As the story progresses into book three, The Gates of Asgard, Zeke struggles with the question presented by the Valkyrie. Perhaps a bit like we all do when it comes to viewing ourselves through our own eyes. Zeke sees himself as a simple boy, one who is incapable of great deeds. However, the Captain, a most unlikely heroic figure, reminds Zeke what a true hero really is:

‘The Captain took a long draw on his pipe, letting the blue smoke escape from the corners of his mouth, shrouding his wrinkled features in a sagely haze. “You’ve mistaken honor with bravery, lad. Sometimes doing the right thing requires something far beyond mere bravery. The greatest warrior conquers incredible odds not because he’s brave, but because it’s the noble, honorable thing to do. Sometimes our greatest motivator is our integrity and our desire to protect the things that are most precious to us.”’

Sometimes it’s difficult to see beyond our own images in the mirror. We are constantly holding ourselves up to someone else’s standard, unaware that they might be holding themselves up to ours. The lesson we learn from the Valkyrie then, is not that we must be the overwhelming berserker who screams his way into life’s battles, but rather the persistent doer. Battling the difficulties of life is just as important as a true field of conflict. If we persist, perhaps we will one day find ourselves sitting in the great hall of Valhalla while a Valkyrie pours us another horn of mead.