The May Queen, Hill Forts, Fairy Circles, Leylines, Holloways and the Moongazing Hare

Research for my latest novel has sent me down some divine British folklore rabbit holes.

(This article was originally published on Medium.)

I’m not normally a huge fan of research. Most of my novels have been set in times and locations that don’t require me to do a lot, and even then, if I do need to research something, I tend to leave a question mark there to remind me to do it later, while I get on with writing the thing.

However, my attitude towards novel research has changed for the better with my current work-in-progress, a folk horror story set in 1996, which will have companion books set in 1966 and 2026. On the very first draft (where I didn’t really know what I was doing), I ended up with the bare bones of a story, and possibilities for more in-depth plot-lines and character development. I didn’t do any research for the first draft, but I knew for the subsequent drafts I’d have to. And it’s been so much fun! I’ve had to look up a real range of interesting things, from which telescopes and cameras were popular in 1996, to 90s fashions and music (not too much of a problem, as I was a teenager in the 90s) to what sort of CCTV systems existed back then.

 This was just the start. As my folk horror story developed, I found myself going down some delightful British rabbit holes as I researched things I wanted to include in my story. It’s essentially a story about a strange little town with an ancient evil under the surface, and the plot is kicked off when a local boy goes missing.

These are some of the things I’ve had the pleasure of researching so far:

The Hare — I’ve always been fascinated by hares. I’m quite literally obsessed with them. For years and years I dreamed of seeing a wild one and in my youth had to be satisfied with keeping rabbits as pets, which was almost as good. In recent years I’ve seen hares in the wild and every single time it is a breathless magical experience for me. My son’s school is rural and on the journey there and back, down twisty country lanes, we often stop to watch hares running in the fields. Recently we spotted one lying low, and we stopped the car to watch. It knew we were watching and eventually got slowly up and loped away. I savoured every second of watching that huge, strong, almost deer-like body hop away. Another time we had to stop the car as another huge one was plodding casually up the lane in front of us. My son rolled his eyes at my over-enthusiastic reaction, ‘Oh my God, it’s a hare! It’s a hare! It’s a bloody hare right there!’ The hares in that area are giants, I swear. One time I thought it was a dog I’d spotted in a field but when I slowed down to check if it was all right or lost, I realised it was lupine in nature and had the pure joy of watching it dash away.

When I first created my current WIP, Black Hare Valley, it was just a vague idea about a folk horror story, an ancient evil, a plucky group of misfit teens and a strange little town I wanted to be old-fashioned in the most British of ways. Me and my son created it together, rolling out a huge piece of paper to create the map of the town. A few years later I started writing the story and always knew the town would be called Black Hare Valley.

Image by Artur Pawlak from Pixabay

But back to hares. There is so much folklore surrounding them, it only adds to their beauty and mystique. The moongazing hare has been symbol of growth, rebirth and fertility, as well as being associated with madness and witchcraft. In many cultures seeing a hare is meant to be good luck and in just as many, it is seen to be bad luck. There was an old superstition that witches could shape shift into hares, as often hares were seen running from flames. In truth, they often waited until the very last minute to break free from the traditional burning of stubble in fields. In many cultures the hare is considered a sacred animal who symbolises our relationship with the land.

Iron Age Hill Forts — Badbury Rings and Maiden Castle in Dorset are two favourites of mine but there are many of these ancient monuments across the British Isles. What were once defended settlements set into sweeping hills and reinforced with earthworks, stone ramparts, defensive walls and external ditches, are now intriguing and mysterious places to visit. I always feel strangely connected to both the past and the earth itself in these places. I was inspired by a trip to Badbury Rings to make Black Hare Valley a town built out of an iron age hill fort. Hill fort settlements could see their enemies from a great distance and this is a theme weaved into my story, especially concerning the history and founding of the town.

Holloways —Holloways are just as fascinating!I’d been keen to visit the infamous Hell Lane in Dorset for years and a couple of summers ago we took the kids there. I absolutely loved it and again I felt so close to the past and the earth there. Holloways are ancient paths criss-crossing the country, possibly markers of old trade routes. The paths themselves have become so deeply trodden by millions of feet, hooves and wagon wheels over centuries, that they are now almost tunnel-like, with the roots of trees visible on either side. At Hell Lane in particular you feel like you are about to descend underground as the trees shade you from above and the path leads you ever deeper. There are a fascinating array of carvings and faces on the clay walls too. I knew Black Hare Valley had to have its own Holloway!

Hell Lane, in Dorset. Photo is mine.

Fairy Circles — I only researched these recently when I decided that Black Hare Valley will be set in 1996 and that it definitely needs a prequel set in 1966, which will see my group of teens parents go through an equally strange and dangerous ordeal in the town. One of the 1966 kids is described as being ‘away with the fairies’ and I decided to play into this a bit more in the 1996 story, as this character as an adult has been missing for a long time. I simply added a fairy circle to a scene and had one character stomp through it while another declares it to be bad luck, and he retorts that his mother used to believe in such rubbish. Fairy circles are naturally occurring circles of mushrooms, often found in forests and grassy areas. Across the world, fairy circles or rings were often associated with folklore and myth and seen as dangerous places. It was said to evoke a curse or bad luck if you crossed one.

Ley lines — ley lines are also mentioned in Black Hare Valley, as I needed a central spot in one of my locations that would provide an intense amount of energy and a feeling of being held in place. I researched ley lines, which I only vaguely understood, and it turns out some people believe in them and some don’t. Essentially, they are believed to be straight lines between prominent landmarks, prehistoric sites and historic structures. Believers assert that ‘earth energies’ run along these lines but there is no scientific evidence to support this, and instead it is a matter of faith.

The May Queen — May Day, The May Queen and other spring celebrations and traditions will be more fully explored in my prequel set in 1966, but as I lay the clues for this in the 1996 book, I’ve had to research them now. One of my 1996 characters discovers that his troubled mother who ran away, had a sister who went missing in 1966, much in the same way a friend of his has gone missing in 1996. In scouring old photos from their parents, the group of friends discover that the missing girl was crowned the May Queen in the spring of 1966. I had great fun researching this and looking at old photos. The May Day celebrations marked the beginning of summer and small towns and villages across Britain, and indeed Europe, would celebrate by choosing a young girl to be the May Queen. She would be decked out in white with a crown of wild flowers and would be given a throne to sit upon. Villagers would also dance around a Maypole, weave floral baskets and ‘bring in the May’ by gathering wild flowers and branches. Going back even further, it is reported that wild hares were often part of the tradition and would be released from cages as part of the celebration. 

Researching books can be a lot of fun and Black Hare Valley is providing me with unique opportunities to google things and learn more. I have now started writing a rough draft of the book set in 1966 and have already had fun researching the clothes, music, and food popular at the time!

When Fear Drives Fiction

So, I’m reading George Orwell’s 1984 for the first time and wondering if what deterred me from it for so long was fear of fear. By that I mean there is already so much to be afraid of in this world, why would I want to give myself more? I’m currently writing from a place of fear and uncertainty and it’s pretty obvious that I’m not the only human feeling like that right now. And I mean on a daily basis. It’s like that Monday morning stomach lurch, except it happens every morning. It’s like the heavy sluggish twisting guts you get before an exam, before a driving test, before you do anything you’re scared to do. Except it never goes away. It’s there all of the time. Weighing me down, wringing me out, making me pause to catch my breath. It’s like that too; like I can’t breathe properly, like there is a deep and shaking level of fear rising up to the surface, and if I am quick I can take a breath and send it back down again. Deal with it another day. Move on quickly into the light.

And there is light. It’s vital to remember that. There is light and love everywhere, and I hope you’ve got as much as I have in my life. When I feel too bad, when the sinking feeling starts to drag me down, I buck myself up and busy myself with the things I love. My beautiful children. Loud music. My garden full of flowers, vegetables and animals. Writing and books.

I’m examining the world right now and wondering if life imitates art, or if it is in fact the other way around. Does art reflect the world we have already created? Or does it project our fears for the future based on what’s going on around us right now? George Orwell must have been pretty terrified, that’s all I can think. Big Brother. Thought police. Uniforms and Two Minutes Of Hate. Chilling stuff. Which all feels rather apt and grim at the moment.

I’m writing to you from a post Brexit Britain. I hate the word Brexit. To me it sums up the dumbing down we’ve been subject to for so long now. Let’s join two words together and make a new one so we don’t have to say too many words! Now I don’t care how you voted, and I’m not going to talk here about my vote, or the whole situation in any real depth. I personally feel that there were good reasons to stay and to leave, but that as usual the government and the media focused on immigration and fed us lies, and what an ugly divisive country this now looks as a result. Let me say again, if you voted to leave, I respect that vote and your reasons for it, and I’m not going to talk about what might happen next. What saddens me most right now is the applause and delight demonstrated by far-right groups across the globe. Whether you like it or not, there are many people out there using this situation to legitimise racism and xenophobia, and that makes my heart sink. I thought we had come so much further than that, but it feels like we are slipping backwards all the time.

It feels like we are now adrift, with no one stepping in to guide us through this unchartered territory. The Labour party and the Conservatives are in turmoil. Everything feels weird and unsafe. I can’t help but wonder what future writing will evolve from this tumultuous time in politics. And that’s the only way to get through it, I feel. Write about it.

My next two books certainly reflect a lot of my current fears, thought I don’t think I was entirely conscious of it to begin with. The Tree Of Rebels was conceived one day when I signed an online petition to prevent Monsanto patenting seeds. I didn’t really know too much about the case, but some very concerned friends of mine deemed it a very serious issue, so I signed it and hoped for the best. It got me thinking though. What if a company could patent seeds? All the seeds? What if they could then, bit by bit, own nature? What if in the future, growing your own food was banned? Surely a government with complete control over nature, would have complete control over its people. The idea made me wonder further; how would this society operate without total rebellion? Well, the people would need to be thankful for what they were given, and what makes people thankful? Perceiving life to be better now than it was then. A story driven by wonder and what if’s…but ultimately fear. I’m a keen gardener myself. I worry so much about the state of the world, so I’m trying to become more self-sufficient, just in case. The thought of someone telling me it’s now illegal to grown my fruit and vegetables or raise my chickens and ducks is terrifying. The thought of a giant and powerful company with extremely dubious ethics essentially owning nature appalls me. So I wrote about it.

Writing helps me make sense of the world. Or at least it is my desperate attempt to. I guess we all have our fears. Things that keep us awake at night. I’ve felt for a while that the world and all it’s people are heading towards some kind of tipping point. Is the world now worse than it has ever been? I scroll through my Facebook feed to witness a never-ending roll call of human misery, animal abuse, environmental damage and worse than all of that; apathy. I feel sick to my stomach, as well as helpless, cynical and angry. Are these the most selfish times we’ve seen? The most brutal? Maybe it is all too easy to look back on the past too fondly. I’m guilty of this myself. I become convinced that the 1980’s and 90’s were a wonderful, simple time. Surely it was all lovely then, wasn’t it? Well no, actually. It’s just that I was a kid and totally unaware.

Fear and dismay drive fiction. We create stories we are frightened of as a way of warning ourselves and others. Helplessness spawns words and worlds and sometimes, if we are lucky, solutions. At least it makes us feel better, anyway. Elliot Pie was born of this frustration with the modern world and the way it is all heading. Elliot is 12 and he wants to do something to help his mother, who is refusing to leave the house after a number of hard knocks. How can he convince her the world is not a bad place filled with bad people?

It’s been quite a task for a writer currently so disillusioned and afraid. But I had to go back and look at it all through a child’s eyes. Elliot doesn’t want to give up on the world yet, or on life. He feels like the adults in his life have all written it off for him before he’s even had a chance to work it out for himself.

Like Elliot, and for my own children, I have to cling onto a dangerous and painful amount of hope. I stand by the very few politicians who have decent intentions. I hope the powers that be don’t prevent them trying to change things. I hope that people are not too apathetic, too far gone, too addicted to reality TV and pointless celebs to fight back before it is all too late. I hope George Orwell was wrong. I hope Elliot Pie is right.

In the meantime, my advice to anyone feeling like I am right now, is to do what you can to ensure love wins. Whatever that means, in whatever way you can, make spreading love and tolerance part of everything you do. This morning I woke up feeling more positive than usual. I decided on the school run journey that I would be kinder than normal, and I let out as many waiting cars as I could. It was actually sad how many of the drivers looked genuinely surprised and thankful. I played some invigorating, uplifting music, told my kids I loved them, and decided that if the two little rabbits in the adoption centre of the pet shop were still waiting for a home, then I would get them. I’d had my eye on them for a while, and once I’d learnt their history (four years of neglect) it was a done deal. I know it’s not much in the grand scheme of things, but every little bit of love counts. And at least I changed the world for them.

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