As mentioned in a posting earlier this summer, I am writing a magical realism novel, The Age Of Dionysus.The first rough draft is largely complete. Now comes the part of revision, adjusting plot lines, developing (or eliminating) characters. As the first draft has gotten rather long, I have started a process of diagramming the various plot threads to ensure continuity; making sure for example that plot development C happens after A and B, not before, making sure characters don’t make an appearance after they have been bumped off, or suddenly pop out of nowhere before they have been properly introduced. Plot inconsistencies can disrupt the narrative for readers, so diagramming is really essential in keeping track of everything.
The premise in the book is that gods and other supernatural beings are real. One god in particular, Dionysus drives the plot. He is convinced that theAge Of Iron is coming to a close and a new Golden Age is about to dawn. With that in mind, He intends to put Himself in a position where He will be the top divinity. However as often happens, the best laid plans of gods and men don’t always work out as intended. The novel details the effects His actions have on people and the world at large.
Below is an excerpt from early in the book which takes place in Manhattan. The character Jillian West is a young fashion model. Charles Belliers is a talent scout for the agency employing her. Belliers is also a sexual predator, who routinely harasses the models in the agency, secure in the knowledge that he won’t get fired because of ‘people he knows’. Belliers attempts to sexually assault Jillian but she is rescued when Dionysus (posing as a mortal) unexpectedly shows up. The excerpt picks up where Dionysus and Jillian leave.
Note: The wine Charles finds is Maenad wine. In the novel, there are three levels of this wine which are all highly intoxicating as they are laced with narcotics. Level Three is the heavy duty stuff. Only highly trained Maenads are supposed to touch this stuff. If you are not an initiate and drink this…well….
Note: All characters are strictly fictional and not based on real people. In other words if you think Charles is based on you, please get psychiatric help. If you think you are Dionysus, definitely get help!
Note: Text is rated ‘R’ for nudity and potty language.
“I’ll get you a cab.” Said Dionysus as He and Jillian went back downstairs. “Do you think you’ll be all right?”
“Only if that pig doesn’t come after me. I don’t know how you knew I was in trouble but thank you! Thank you!”
“Charles will be having other problems before too long. He’s his own worst enemy in the end. But I can promise you, you won’t need to worry about him coming after you.”
“I hope you’re right. That was no idle threat he made, you know. I don’t know if I could file charges against him. It’s my word against his. I’d have to fight the whole way and even then the case would probably get dismissed.” She wiped angry tears from her face. “ Guys like him always seem to get away with stuff and nobody does anything about it.”
Now outside, Dionysus flagged down a cab, paid the driver for her, then handed a small business card to her.
“That’s my phone number. If you have any problems, and somehow I don’t think you will, just call me.”
“Thank you.” She looked hesitantly up at him. “Will I be seeing you again tomorrow?”
The smile on Dionysus’s face was glorious, washing away all the terror she had felt earlier.
“I can guarantee it.”
………………………..
Upstairs,Charles fumed as he zipped up his pants. This evening was a bust for sure. Would that bitch file charges? Sometime they did, sometime they didn’t. And how did that Greek prick get in here anyway? He was sure he had locked the door from the inside. Maybe he hadn’t fully latched it somehow. Looking at his hands he realized they were shaking not with rage but with terror. Dionysus had held him up like he was a kitten and hadn’t even broken into a sweat. How strong was that guy anyway?
More as a way to distract himself than out of a sense of tidiness, he began picking up the clothes rack. As he did so, he noticed a bottle of uncorked wine with a gleaming wine glass beside it sitting on the table where Jillian had stuck her drink. Where did that come from? He hadn’t noticed Dionysus carrying anything. Had he put it there? Charles could smell the wine tantalizing his nose. Going over, he poured half a glassful and looked at it.
The strangely alluring wine was dark garnet. He sniffed at it. It smelled like wine and yet it didn’t. Against his better judgment he took a swallow. And almost immediately regretted it. He coughed and spluttered. What the hell was this shit? He looked at the label. The lettering was in Greek and the picture on the label showed a mosaic image of a naked guy riding a lion or something. Some local artisan brew maybe? He licked his lips and after a moment took another sip.
To his amazement, the second swallow was better. It still tasted like something burped out of the Okefenokee Swamp but it really wasn’t that bad. A fine patina of sweat began forming on his skin. He drank the rest of the glass trying to analyze the flavor. He fancied himself a wine connoisseur but this tasted like nothing he had ever drunk before. After a moment, he poured a second glass all the way to the top. By the time he finished it, he had forgotten about Dionysus. The third glass made him forget about Jillian. After the fourth, he tossed the wineglass and began drinking directly from the bottle.
By the time he polished off the last drop, a blinding insight came to him. What the hell were clothes for? All this high fashion stuff was pure shit. Why was he even wasting a moment of his time with this? After chucking the empty bottle into a waste basket,he began peeling off his clothes and was amazed at how much better he felt totally naked. He should have done this a long time ago! He started walking toward the door but the floor seemed to have acquired an annoying tilt. Staggering he grabbed at a mannequin but its arm came off and he nearly fell. Righting himself he stared at the mannequin’s arm for a moment. On impulse he used it to scratch first his back then his groin. He began giggling like a village idiot. This was fun! He was going to take it home with him.
Something about the locked door bothered him but he couldn’t remember what it was. But he finally got it open and padded out into the hall. Getting off the studio carpeting and onto the linoleum in the hall chilled his feet but he made up his mind not to whine about it. Isn’t that what you got calluses for? It was probably a nice evening and his apartment in New Jersey wasn’t that far so he decided to walk home.
Nathan Jackson sat in the security office reading a girlie magazine. He had seen Dionysus and Jillian leave on the security cameras. The sight made him sigh. There he goes again, this time with a hot redhead. All the girls were buzzing about this guy and it wasn’t hard to understand why. Some people had all the luck, he thought with gloomy envy, this Greek guy was a major chick magnet and he couldn’t even get the waitress at the restaurant to look twice at him. He buried his face deeper into the magazine. Two of the security cameras were out again, he’d have to do something about that. Engrossed in the centerfold he failed to notice the functional camera showing the talent agent strolling down the stairs. But the security office door was open so Nathan spotted Charles’ s naked ass out of the corner of his eye just as Belliers exited the building.
“Shit!” swore Nathan tossing down the magazine and sprinting out the door after him.
“Sir! Sir!” He caught up with Belliers starting to make a right turn. Charles had a mannequin’s arm propped on his shoulder. “It’s kind of chilly out here. Don’t you think you better put a coat on?”
“What the hell for?” Belliers glared at him affronted. The wine fumes he exhaled made Nathan’s eyes water. “It’s a nice night. I’m walking home.”
The temperature read 55 degrees Fahrenheit the last time Nathan looked at the thermometer. This guy was definitely not feeling anything. The weird thing was, he seemed to be sweating a lot.
“I really think you should put something on, sir.” He took hold of Belliers’ arm, trying to steer him back into the building. “You left your coat in the cloak room. At least put that on.” There was a glazed mad look in Belliers’ eyes that reminded Nathan of a YouTube video he had seen showing a rabid raccoon.
Belliers ignored him. Instead he began staring in fascination at the marquee canopy shielding the entrance. He shook off Nathan’s hand.
“Hey! Look at the fucking trampoline!” He screeched like a kid. Before Nathan could stop him, he tossed the mannequin’s arm into Nathan’s face and began clambering up the side of the building, grasping the concrete facade indentations with his fingers and toes like a squirrel. Throwing aside the arm, Nathan lunged at him but although Belliers was in his fifties and overweight, he was shockingly nimble, evading the security guard’s attempts to grab his ankles.
It was at this critical juncture that the squad car containing Officers Joseph Burrows and Jacob Armstrong came cruising by. It was rookie Jacob’s first evening on the job. His field training officer Joseph had driven him around showing him the basics. They ticketed a few speeders but otherwise it had been quiet so Joseph spent most of the time telling Jacob his personal war stories. It was nearing the end of their shift.
“I think tomorrow I’ll let you do the driving. Do you have any questions?”
“Um, yeah.” Said Jacob looking out the car window at the fashion agency they were driving by. “Why is that naked guy climbing up the building?”
“Aw shit.” groaned Joseph. “Ok, here’s where it gets interesting.” He pulled the squad car over to the curb. “Make sure your gun is tucked out of sight. He’s probably drunk or high. The last thing we want is for him to get hold of a gun, especially if he’s combative.”
“Right.” After putting in a call to the dispatcher, they exited the car and approached cautiously. By now Charles was balanced precariously on the edge of the door canopy gauging how far to jump. The guy trying to coax him down was building security. He noted Joseph and Jacob nearing with obvious relief.
“He’s blotto and I can’t get him to come down. I’m calling 911, if that’s ok.”
“Fine.” said Officer Joseph, not taking his eyes off the nude guy who looked like he was getting ready to jump onto the canopy. “Hey, friend, you may not want to do that. I don’t think it’ll hold you.”
Belliers was in too exalted a state to pay any attention to the annoying people shouting at him from the sidewalk. The canopy seemed to ripple an invitation to jump on it. With a joyous shriek he launched himself and landed spreadeagled on the canvas. While it didn’t rip, it abruptly folded around him and the entire canopy frame collapsed. The two officers used the opportunity to jump on him and hold him down.
It turned out to be more difficult than they thought. Belliers fought like a demon to extricate himself from the canopy, swearing a blue streak the whole time. Jacob and Joseph tried to use the canvas to hold the drunken man in place but Charles had little trouble ripping through the material. With regret, Joseph pulled out his taser and tried subduing him. Belliers jerked a little from the zaps but otherwise seemed unaffected. He didn’t even grunt but his flailing grew wilder.
By now two foot patrol cops had shown up and added their muscle to the struggle. The security guard joined in. Jacob’s jaw took a painful clip from the drunk’s fist. There were five guys holding onto him but Belliers still kept trying to get up. The wine fumes added a rank smell to the air but the rookie began suspecting the subject was intoxicated on more than just booze. The swearing was giving way to an incoherent babbling that sounded like the glossolalia Jacob used to hear as a kid at the evangelical meetings his parents attended.
“Shit! Watch it!” yelled one of the cops. “He’s pissing a bucket!”
A stream of urine soared into the air, spraying back and forth like a lawn sprinkler as Belliers continued struggling.
The ambulance finally pulled up. Fortunately whatever alcoholic dynamo was powering Charles began winding down and they were able to finally load him onto the stretcher where the EMT’s firmly strapped him in place. As the ambulance drove off, Jacob and Joseph looked mournfully down at their urine soaked uniforms.
“He hosed us pretty good, didn’t he?” Said Jacob.
“That he did, little buddy.” replied Joseph shaking his head. “Good thing our shift is just about over.”
“I wish ours was.” said one of the street cops. Their uniforms were wet as well.
On the way back to headquarters, they had to lower the windows to air out as much of the remarkably pungent urine smell as they could.
“Well, that was interesting.” remarked Jacob laconically putting on some nitrile gloves they had in the car.
“That it was.” Replied Joseph, who then laughed. “Never a dull moment in the Big Apple, kid! Never a dull moment.”
