Title character Tris, with his father, Puh, and longtime friend, Black Wolf have arrived at the People from the East’s annual Gathering. Here, many traders have taken advantage of the event to hawk their wares. Black Wolf, as one of the People from the East, has brought his Neanderthal neighbors to this Gathering; it is a novel experience for the newcomers, who have lived in relative isolation. However, even Black Wolf is startled to see the offerings of one particular trader.
Black Wolf lifted one and held it out for our inspection.
"She has no feet," he pointed out. "She must have lost them in a sad misadventure like Fast Otter when he was attacked by a lion while sleeping in his lean-to. The lion managed to mangle Fast Otter's feet before his companions could save him."
The sculpted piece of sandstone was obviously meant to portrait a woman - a naked woman - but she was like no female I had ever seen. She was well endowed, both front and back, and decorated with many carved lines and zig-zags. And she was enormously fat, like a bear that had been feasting on salmon in preparation for winter's hibernation. The only woman I had ever known to carry any extra weight was Black Wolf's Little Fawn, but even she was positively svelte in comparison to this figure.
Puh responded incredulously to Black Wolf's remarks.
"You look at that physique and all you notice is that she has no feet?"
The moon had risen again, still round and bright, providing just the right ambiance for the wolves to sing by. Their distant howls rent the air and made the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand up. The wind had come around to blow out of the south, bringing with it a warm moist air, but it was from the wrong direction to provide any telltale odors that would give any indication that we were drawing nearer to our quarry. The gusting breezes shook the tree branches making it more difficult to distinguish sounds from one another. Still, there was nothing to do except to put one foot in front of the other and hope that we would not go from being the hunters to the hunted. We were grateful for the night’s deep shadows. Since we suspected we were quite close to Snow Leopard and his group, we evaded the moonlight, slipping from one puddle of darkness to the next. As we came to an open spot in the path, we paused for a drink of water and to rest for a moment. We had not spoken or eaten in some time. Puh broke out his nearly empty food bag and gave Black Wolf and me a little dried meat and a few shelled nuts that he found rolling around at the bottom of the sack. As I ate, I rubbed at my burning eyes; they ached from staring so hard at the darkness and from being awake for so long, but the salt from the sweat on my hands made my eyes burn even more.
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…I could clearly view the huge animal from my vantage point by a large tree. It was snuffling and snorting as it noisily grazed, its tail in constant motion, swishing back and forth in a fruitless attempt to keep the ever-present flies from alighting on its rump. Given that the audible signs of the rhino’s digestion process were clearly heard by all, I did not envy the flies their proximity to the creature’s hind end. Black Wolf seemed to be thinking along the same lines.
“Listen to that!” he quietly exclaimed at yet another burst of flatulence. “I will not be standing at the rear of our intended victim during this hunt! That rhino sounds as though he will be ready to let loose his bowels at any moment!”
We could not restrain small grins at the memory of last winter’s woolly mammoth kill, when poor Black Wolf had been knocked off his feet by a heavy blast of mammoth excrement. Just then, the rhino turned its head and faced in our direction, its enormous forehorn much in evidence.
“By all means, Black Wolf,” Bror whispered, “you are most welcome to the front if you so choose.”
Dreamer Literary Productions is pleased to announce that The Dreamer VII ~ The Challenge Circle is now officially released, in Ebook, paperback, and hardcover formats!
The epic Ice Age adventure continues with this latest installment. Did you ever wonder what life was like for those who walked the Earth before us? Dreamer Books opens a literary portal to life during the last Glacial Maximum, what with all its challenges and drama, while simultaneously instilling an enduring sense of wonder at the resiliency and resourcefulness of our ancestors. The ongoing story celebrates the human spirit, and illustrates however much the settings may differ, people have little changed over the eons.
Seven years ago, my imagination opened a portal to an ancient landscape. Layers of time peeled away, and I was thrust into the consciousness of one who had lived in a time and place now lost to memory. This Neanderthal man and the epic adventures that make up his life’s story may be fictional, but as I write his experiences it feels as though I am recording actual history, rather than composing a literary work. Bringing to life the peoples and cultures of Ice Age Eurasia has enthralled and inspired me, and I can’t help but think I will miss being immersed in their world when the series is complete.
(Header image credits: book cover photo by Paula Kugerud Photography, Venus figurine pendant and lithics by Neanderthal Joe. Header photo and blog photo by E. A. Meigs)
This hour-long podcast is well worth your time: Anthony Yokolano from The Neanderthal Mind digs deep into mankind’s ancient past in this interview with Neanderthal Joe. (What a nice surprise to hear my name and my books mentioned during the discussion! Thanks for the plugs, Anthony and Neanderthal Joe!)
The realm of Paleoanthropology is a relatively small one, therefore those of us immersed in this field often know one another, at least by name. I have followed many such experts over the decades, but it’s not often you find one who not only delves into the science, but also explores the practicalities and skills needed by early humans as they struggled to survive in a harsh world.
Mousterian blade on a centripetal core.
For the last ten years, Neanderthal Joe (AKA, Joe Lawlor) has made a study of the Neanderthal. During this time, Neanderthal Joe has put his knowledge to good use and taught himself how to knap stone, haft knapped stone to spears shafts and handles, made useable items from animal pelts and hides, created Venus figurines, made cordage, glues, distilled birch bark tar and oil, practiced several methods of making fire, and much, much more – all using authentic primitive tools and techniques. Neanderthal Joe’s works have found homes with collectors all over the world. Some of his lithics can be seen on display on display atthe Etta C. Ross Memorial Library Museum in Blue Earth, MN.
Neanderthal tools racloir, hand-axe, Levallois core. (Made from cobble of Georgetown flint by Neanderthal Joe.)Mousterian blades, Joe’s replica (r) compared to an authentic Mousterian blade (l) made by a Neanderthal 60-70 thousand years ago.
Neanderthal Joe shares his passion for learning about our ancient ancestors with his followers. (A list of his platforms will be included at the end of this post.) You can watch some of his many YouTube videos (below), to get an idea of the scope of his work.
Video showcasing a Neanderthal tool kit.
Neanderthal Joe’s “Venus of Antler River”.
Spears made by Neanderthal Joe.
Venus figurine.
Again, these images and videos give just an inkling of Neanderthal Joe’s body of work and he is constantly adding to this impressive portfolio. If you are interested in ancient life skills and paleoanthropology, check out his platforms; he provides valuable insight into the lives of our ancestors.
It’s always gratifying to receive a reader review of my books, but especially so when the reviewer has Neanderthal Joe’s level of expertise on the Neanderthal and the details of their lives. A while ago, Neanderthal Joe very generously submitted a review of my first three books. (When I wrote to say thank you, I took the opportunity to ask his permission to do a blog about him and he kindly agreed!) I had to edit his review to fit into the Reader Review page format, so here it is, in it’s entirety.
As someone that struggles at keeping focus while reading, this series has been an absolute trip! I knew it was a great series when I finished the first book in 3 days (something that is rare for me); the entire time I was reading book one I was “on my toes” excited for the next page and the next chapter, the characters are very likeable and are very relatable. The story is captivating and keeps the reader drawn in, the story is not the typical point A to point B story it is a well thought out TRUE ice age adventure! When I come home from work instead of settling down and hopping on a game or mindlessly watching tv I now open a new chapter from the book anticipating where the adventures of Tris, Black Wolf and Tor goes. I am very excited to see where the wonderful author takes the series and will continue to read. Thank you for making a beautifully crafted story with elements from the real world. While reading you can picture the characters on their journey and that is better than any tv show or movie.
If a real world Neanderthal recommends this series that should be the sign that you should check it out from Neanderthal Joe!
So, you might ask, how does one start writing a historical fiction book series? Where does one gain knowledge and insight sufficient to breathe life into an ancient world, a world whose inhabitants have long-since perished? Speaking for myself, it has been a lengthy and convoluted –but never boring– journey!
The writing bug bit early. It wasn’t a dainty nibble, but rather a hearty chomp. As my childhood years flew by, I filled notebook after notebook. After landing my first job, the earnings went toward the purchase of a cheap manual typewriter. There was no gentle tippity-tappity to get a legible font; this machine required the kind of vigorous finger-strokes needed to play Rachmaninoff’s 3rd Piano Concerto. Nevertheless, I pounded out my first full-length (and very silly) 300+ page novel at the age of ten.
Discovering the World of Natural History
My working career began (outside of working with my Dad on his commercial fishing boat) at the Cape Cod Museum of Natural History. It was my great good fortune to be employed there for four years. I worked with noted naturalists such as John Hay, Robert Finch, Robert Prescott, and Donald Schall. My title was “Girl Friday“, which meant that I did whatever was needed at the moment. I swept floors, tended various resident animals on the grounds (such as a one-winged Great Horned Owl), assisted with field work, or shelved returned books in their library. I had a strong interest in science and natural history, and luckily for me, the museum staff were more than willing to share their knowledge.
(Credit: E. A. Meigs)
Learning More About the Outdoors
I had lots of woodlands, marshes, and beaches to explore. A little creek ran past our house and a foot bridge (um…well…a plank) gave us access to a verdant glen hidden amongst the trees. There, I would erect a tent from whatever materials I could find, in which I spent the night whenever the weather (and my parents) allowed. I use the term “tent” loosely. It was a drop-cloth strung up between trees with an old carpet underneath. It was scarcely weatherproof, and certainly not bug-proof. But that was no concern to me; all I cared was that I could stay outside. Later, I was gifted an old canvas tent that appeared to have been last used during World War II. It was a bit musty, but I was very glad to have it; it was a vast improvement over my improvised shelters.
I have always enjoyed camping. As a young adult, whenever I was in-between rentals I would just camp in the forest until my next lease started. It could be chilly at times, but thankfully, my father had brought me up to be comfortable in the woods. Living out of a backpack never posed a problem.
(Image Credit: E. A. Meigs
Boats, Boatyards, and Commercial Fishing
I aspired to be a naturalist, like those I knew at the Museum. But however appealing the study of nature, I didn’t think I could make a living at it. After graduation, I went on to have a nautical career. As the daughter of a commercial fisherman/backyard boatbuilder, for me, this was a obvious choice, but it sometimes presented a bit of a puzzlement to others. Feminism was in its infancy in those days, making me somewhat of a curiosity. I was often the only woman onboard, or at the work site. I didn’t try to be one of the guys or compete with them. In fact, although I was very strong for a five-foot tall female (they sometimes called me Mighty-Mite), I knew I could not match their size and strength.
I was grateful not to be asked, for example, to load a battered 55 gallon drum onto the back of a truck. My burly co-worker gamely stepped up to the drum and embraced it as a wrestler would his opponent. Following a breathless struggle, he finally placed the dented and rusted receptacle on the truck’s bed while the owner of the drum looked on, nodding with satisfaction. It was only after the task was completed when it was revealed that the drum was filled with chunks of lead. Another time, I saw one of the guys pick up two two-hundred pound mushroom moorings by the shank, and walk away with them as though they were a pair of suitcases.
(Image Credit: E. A. Meigs)
Working in a Man’s World
I had already amassed more than a decade of pertinent experience when I started working in boatyards. But as low man on the totem pole, I was assigned some of the worst jobs. When they needed someone to crawl around in a tight bilge, up into a forepeak, or down a cramped lazarette, as the smallest, I was the one tapped. If you think they were giving me crappy jobs because I was female, rest assured my male contemporaries were given assignments equally as bad.
One boatyard’s sail loft was located up a very old and creaky flight of stairs, and the loft’s doorway was a mere 5 feet high and just over a foot wide. Guess who got to retrieve all the sails? While I fit through the doorway just fine, the sail bags were usually a lot larger than the door’s opening, so shoving them through was quite a process. Once I managed to accomplish this, there was nothing to stop the sail bags from tumbling down the rickety stairs, thundering and shaking the stairway as they went, looking like an enraged elephant seal charging down a steep beach.
On the job: sanding brightwork, under the supervision of my old dog, Sugar.
All in all, I enjoyed laboring alongside my coworkers. Over the years maybe one or two of the guys were somewhat hostile, but most were quite pleasant. People not acquainted with commercial fishermen and boatyard workers might think them a bit rough around the edges, but I generally found them to be pretty easy to get along with. They were salt of the earth folks; they may not have been “pinkies up” kind of guys, but they were funny and caring, and I considered them to be friends.
Marriage
I married while still in my early twenties and gave birth to two daughters. I was a content to be a wife and mother, and I thoroughly enjoyed my children and all the things that came with domestic life. We lived on a small homestead complete with goats, chickens, honey bees, and large gardens. After the marriage broke up, I was forced to support my household and return to the work I knew…and paid the bills. So, it was back to working on boats.
Starting a New Chapter
By the time I was nearing 40 years old, the heavy toil was taking a toll on my physique. So, I began to look for alternate means to make a living. I was excited to find a job managing a shipping department; oh joy, to be clean and warm and dry! But I soon discovered that 95% of the shipped product was cut slate – ROCKS! So much for light work! But at least the boxes of rocks were marginally lighter than the loads I routinely carried in the fishing industry. That said, I still needed to segue to a career that didn’t potentially include a hernia.
On the job: Fish & Wildlife (Image credit: E. A. Meigs)
Fish & Wildlife and Forestry
As time went on, I found employment in a small field office for Fish and Wildlife. As with the staff at the Museum of Natural History, the wildlife biologists were generous with their knowledge. In addition to my usual duties logging check station data from the hunts, handling Management Area purchase orders for everything from copy paper to heavy equipment, and other mundane tasks, I also occasionally accompanied biologists on controlled burns and field work.
I spent a year as a resident employee at a State Park, as well; another wonderful experience! My dog Sam and I hiked the trails every day, often waking up the deer as we trekked along at sunrise. Most animals are not keen about people – and dogs, even less so, but I reveled in the fleeting glimpses of these creatures.
Daily hike with Sam. (Credit: E. A. Meigs)
Early one morning, Sam and I spied a black furry butt sticking out of the brush up ahead. We stopped in our tracks. I said to Sam, “Well, that’s either a bear or a hog.” At that, the animal backed out of the foliage. It was still a distance away, but I could see by its ears that it was a wild hog. A large one. Hogs usually run away, but this one stood his ground. I have seen what wild hogs can do to a dog (and humans, for that matter) so Sam and I changed direction. While I enjoy seeing wildlife, I realize it is important to give them lots of space. I have no doubt there were countless times when Sam and I were in close proximity to animals we never saw, because they had the good sense to move off without giving themselves away.
(Credit: E. A. Meigs)
Becoming a writer.
Eventually, I found work writing and editing. Also, I put in a few years as managing editor for an academic journal. I learned a lot about the publishing business, how books are laid-out, and I was finally able to use my love of words in my profession.
It had always been my goal to find a way to combine my love of nature/writing/history, but I never planned to write a book series chronicling the adventures of a Neanderthal man.
I later recounted this information to a friend. After a brief pause during which she looked me up and down, she said, “Was there a picture of you in that article?” No, but there may as well have been. More recent discoveries have found that they had a wider variety of hair, eye, and skin coloring, and some were in fact a bit taller, but from that time on, I must admit I felt an affinity for the Neanderthal.
Illustration from The Dreamer III ~ The People of the Wolves (Image credit: E. A. Meigs)
The Dreamer Book Series
Fast-forward a number of years to a February morning in 2015, when I woke up with The Dreamer in my head. Like all my novels, I had no idea where the plot came from, it just suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Initially, I didn’t know it would be a series. As the writing progressed, I soon realized the story needed to broken up into multiple volumes. So, onward I forged, pulling Tris’s story out of my brain one tap of the keyboard at a time.
Making Use of a Lifetime’s Experiences
Finally, much of the “useless” historical, zoological, anthropological, wilderness survival, etc., data gathering dust in my head can be utilized! Some of the plots take place around actual historical events and locations, so I did my best to seek out as much information as can be found on these topics. And, of course, I did general research all the time.
Additionally, every now and then I squeeze in an online University course. As ever, I remain hungry to learn more. Not only because of my burning quest for knowledge, but because I want to provide enough layers of depth and realism to make the tales seem plausible for the reader. We may never know what life was really like during the last Ice Age, but it is my hope to offer a literary portal to that perilous – and yet magnificent – juncture in time.
Just before dawn on a cold spring morning, a young Neanderthal man awakens from a strange and frightening dream that will change his life forever…
Dreamer Books 1 -5. Book 6, The Dreamer VI ~ The Outsiders is due to be released in the summer of 2021. (Header & graphics by E. A. Meigs, cover photos by Paula Krugerud.)
Venus figurines have been discovered throughout much of Eurasia, most dating between 11,000 to 40,000 BCE*. These saucy ladies have been the subject of much study and conjecture. Were they fertility symbols? Some sort of Mother Earth/Mother Nature goddesses? Or were they merely meant to depict womanhood in full flower (so to speak); a visual testimony to the artist’s admiration for the female form in all her glory? We can only guess, but it is fun to speculate on the motive(s) and mindset(s) of their creators.
*BCE = Before Common Era
(Venus Figurine in header by Neanderthal Joe)
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The Dreamer: Just before dawn on a cold spring morning, a young Neanderthal man awakens from a strange and frightening dream that will change his life forever…
