At the outset of the story, Tris is a young Neanderthal man navigating an environment as inhospitable as the Ice Age itself. To counter a sense of “otherness” that readers may attribute to a Neanderthal character, I have purposely chosen the first-person viewpoint so readers might more easily connect with Tris’s personality and share his experiences.
The journey began for me in early 2015 when I started drafting the first installment of what would grow into an eight-book saga. Since then, the fields of paleoanthropology and genetics have transformed our understanding of Neanderthals. Back then, popular science painted them as red-haired, freckled, green-eyed folk—a concept that struck me as curious but plausible. I thought, “Well, orangutans are gingers; why not a population of humans too?” So, Tris and his family were envisioned as fiery-haired individuals. Only later did genetic studies reveal that Neanderthals likely had a range of coloring similar to modern Europeans. As a result, the new characters introduced outside of Tris’s clan reflect this update.
And then, there are the dreams. Each book in the Dreamer series opens with a dream that lays the foundation for the story’s events and closes with another that hints at what’s yet to come. According to the plot lore, Dreamers are part of their culture, with a new Dreamer born every few generations. Yet, Tris himself is a skeptic. Are these visions meaningful? Or simply the byproduct of an overactive mind? His doubts mirror the mysteries dreams likely held for our distant ancestors, an enigma as perplexing to them as it is to us today.
Over the years, I’ve been humbled by messages from readers sharing their thoughts on Tris and his journey. Men often tell me they see themselves in Tris—his struggles to protect and provide for his family strike a familiar chord. Some have expressed gratitude for a male character who feels real: not “toxic,” but flawed and thoughtful. (I didn’t set out to write a statement on masculinity, but hearing how much this resonated is deeply gratifying.) Women, on the other hand, frequently say they love Tris—a sentiment that never fails to make me smile.
Tris, at his core, is an “everyman”—resourceful, reflective, and imperfect, trying his best in a challenging world. Spending nearly a decade immersed in his life and times has been an adventure I’ll never forget, and knowing that at least some of my readers have been entertained by his story is the greatest reward of all.
Based around the archaeological discoveries found in a Belgium cave, The Dreamer IV – The Cave of Bones continues the eight-book prehistoric fiction series entitled Dreamer Books: An Ice Age Saga. It is a chronicle from the distant past, when the European continent was yet untamed, and humans fought to endure within a savage environment.
In this setting, a Neanderthal man named Tris narrates his story – often told in a manner that is thoughtful, and sometimes rather droll. His life’s journey is one filled with harrowing adventure and a relentless struggle to survive, but it is also a timeless, very human tale that tells of tested bonds of family and fellowship.
At the outset, Tris is a wide-eyed innocent who has lived a very sheltered existence. His most pressing concerns are presented by confrontations with wildlife and supporting the sustenance of the group. As time goes on and new tribes settle on lands once exclusively inhabited by the Neanderthal, he and his clan must adapt to a number of social changes and challenges. (After viewing the video, scroll down to see what happens next!)
Although I write about life as it was during the last Ice Age—a time when people had to procure all of life’s necessities from Nature, my childhood in small town New England was far easier. We didn’t have fancy stores, or even a “real” grocery store, but we did have Donald Doane’s.
Donald Doane’s was located in the heart of town. This store (shown in photos) is now called The Brewster Store, but back then it was Donald Doane’s, named for its proprietor. The shop carried all life’s essentials, along with a few delightful nonessentials, such as rubber-band-powered balsa wood airplane kits for just ten cents, jars filled with penny candy, and a selection of comic books.
While we occasionally stopped in for grocery items, every Sunday, Dad would fire up his truck—a 1954 International—and take one or more of us kids to Donald Doane’s to pick up the Sunday paper and a dozen donuts. This was one of my favorite weekly rituals.
The store had a warm and inviting atmosphere; a central wood stove served as a gathering spot for locals to enjoy a hot beverage and share stories. The wonderful aroma of freshly ground coffee and roasting peanuts often filled the air.
Mr. Doane, though somewhat taciturn and stern in appearance, had a softer side. If business was slow, he would invite us upstairs to marvel at his collection of antique toys, offering a fascinating glimpse into playthings from a century ago. It was nice to see this gentler aspect of a man who once replied to a tourist asking why he didn’t carry the New York Times with, “Because I don’t give a damn about what happens in New York!”
Mr. Doane is long gone now, but his store remains at the center of town. It likely carries the New York Times these days, but it still exudes a charm and sense of nostalgia that are hard to find elsewhere.
(Photo credits: E. A. Meigs. Brewster Store images posted with permission from the Brewster Store.)
I had never thought about recreating the voice of a Neanderthal man until I considered recording my books into an audio format. It then became apparent that I faced some challenges.
My books are written as a narrative and the main character is a man. As a woman, even if I had a really bad cold, I don’t think I could pass myself off as a male speaker. And….
The main character is a Neanderthal and there have been numerous opinions on the quality of their voices. So what did they sound like?
Can I use a software that will change my voice so I will sound something like a Neanderthal man? Hmmm…..
This has led to many hours of research. I’m not a scientist, but I have a lot of pertinent formal and informal study under my belt as part of writing a prehistoric book series. Like many, I was amused by the Neanderthal High-Pitched Voice hypothesis, which was based on the find of a single Neanderthal hyoid bone. (Spoofed here.) Later, it was discovered that the hyoid bone doesn’t really have as much effect on the quality of the voice as thought, but rather it is thevocal tract, oral/nasal/sinus/chest cavities that give us our unique sound. The Neanderthal had ample quantities of all these things, which leads me to believe that they had full voices – and could be quite loud, if they so chose.
To add perspective, think of dog breeds and their various barks; a Saint Bernard, which has a large head, muzzle, throat and chest has a different voice as compared to a relatively gracile Collie. That being said, as a hunting people, silence was more apt to be desired. I would have guessed them to be a quiet, soft-spoken people in most instances. I would therefore give my character a mid-range husky voice.
Recent genetic studies has brought up the differences between modern human’s speech genes and Neanderthal speech genes. We all have/had the FoxP2 gene, but the Neanderthal (and Denisovans) had genetic variances that are thought to affect the vocal tract. However, that doesn’t concern me very much. Humans have undergone a lot of changes – genetic and otherwise – over the millennia. I’ve read (although I couldn’t find a link to the exact quote) that the Neanderthal and early Homo sapiens were much more genetically similar to one another than early Homo sapiens would have been to today’s people. And, as one of the world’s most renowned Paleoanthropologists John Hawks says in his Feb. 2024 article,
"Today we have a lot more information about the variation of FOXP2 but little clarity about its possible importance. The protein coding sequence of FOXP2 differs slightly between chimpanzees and humans, but the protein sequence does have some variation across humans worldwide. In fact a fraction of people today have the same coding sequence found in Neandertals, showing that the gene itself worked very much the same in ancient and living groups."
(Fascinating article!) Considering that Neanderthal have other known gene discrepancies, like the one for red hair and light skin, it shouldn’t be a surprise when Neanderthal variations come to light.
Prof. Hawks’ article also addresses many aspects of the Neanderthal’s brain shape and supposed organization- we can only guess at how it was organized. Here, he says,
"Those shape differences that were so important to nineteenth-century anthropologists don't seem to make any difference to how brains work. With large studies in recent times, neuroscientists have a more detailed picture of variation of brain form. Variation in overall brain volume, cortical gray and white matter, and the relative sizes of some cortical regions all have been found to correlate with various cognitive or behavioral measures. But the variations of endocast and cranial shape once studied by anthropologists do not correlate with those internal measures of brain structure. Could Neandertal brains have worked just the same as today's people, despite their difference in shape? I think that whatever differences existed would have involved details of the internal structure of the brain, probably unmarked on the inner surface of the skull. One variable we can measure does relate to function within living human populations: brain size. In this measure, Neandertals and recent humans were more or less the same. The way the Neandertal brain worked may not have been exactly the same as ours, but I bet we will find they were not as different as many scientists once imagined."
This reinforces the idea – backed up by the evidence of their social behaviors such as care of their young, sick, and elderly, interring their dead, manufacturing of tools, 3-ply twisted twine, glues, distilling tars and oils, etc., etc., – that they were an intelligent, resourceful people who had sufficient physical and mental capacity to converse. And, it occurs to me that the Neanderthal brain shape was possibly due to its skull shape, which placed the brain in a position where it would be most protected behind the heavy brow. This would have been an important benefit for a people with an extremely active lifestyle, whose activities included a lot of close contact with very large and potentially very violent animals.
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I’m still experimenting, but this is what I’ve come up with (so far). See what you think of the voice as recorded in this video. It still needs work, but it’s a start.
My plan is to set up a Patreon page that will feature posts about the books, the characters, the Ice Age, and much more! This will include serial audio releases of each book, chapter by chapter, and discussions about them.
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.”
I see myself more as a writer than an artist, so I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the interest in the illustrations in my books.
My journey began in childhood. I was eager to share the stories swirling in my head, but I didn’t know how to spell many words. This made things tricky for a budding author. To solve this, I told my stories through pictures and short captions.
As I grew, my writing improved until I could finally make a living from it. Unfortunately, that left me with little time for artwork. Now, as I try to rekindle my artistic side, I realize I’ve lost some of my practice! I hope to add more children’s books to my collection, which will give me plenty of chances to hone my skills again!
Here is a sampling, including a few of the frontispieces, pictures from the Ice Age Animal Index that appears at the back of each volume in the 8-book series, and several illustrations from thechildren’s book, KAW. (The Header image is also from KAW.)
PS: If you like Dreamer Book’s original artwork, you can find some of it on our Merch! See a selection of tees, hoodies, tote bags, mugs, and more HERE!
Illustration from KAW
Frontispiece from The Cave of Bones (colorized).
European cave lion (colorized, from Ice Age Animal Index)
Detail from The People of the Wolves frontispiece (colorized)
Reindeer (colorized, from Ice Age Animal Index)
Lynx (colorized, from Ice Age Animal Index)
Illustration from KAW
Roe deer (colorized, from Ice Age Animal Index)
Illustration from KAW
Eurasian wolf (colorized, from Ice Age Animal Index)
Woolly mammoth (colorized, from Ice Age Animal Index)
Interview with Seth Chagi (World of Paleoanthropology): Additional Commentary
My early childhood home was a traditional New England-style house, said to have been floated across Cape Cod Bay on barrels in 1750. It’s mind-boggling to imagine how challenging it must have been to keep a large, non-aerodynamic, and non-hydrodynamic two-story house on course as it made its way from Boston to Brewster. I’m sure the house was towed by a ship, but that’s still a lot of open water! If the wind picked up, they might have ended up in an entirely different town than where they had planned to reside.
Once they reached the shore, they likely used teams of horses and large wooden rollers to move the house to its final location, where it still stands today. Over the centuries, the house was expanded, and the property turned into a working farm. If only buildings could talk—the stories that house could tell! By the time my family lived there, it was no longer a farm, just an old, rambling home on a narrow country road. At various times, my grandparents, aunts, and uncles lived with us, making it a bright and lively place where we created many happy memories.
Back then, television reception on Cape Cod was practically non-existent, so we entertained ourselves the old-fashioned way—reading, doing crafts, playing music, and the like. I imagine my parents were relieved that none of us had access to bagpipes! Endless piano renditions of “I Love Coffee, I Love Tea” and “Mary Had a Little Lamb” on the violin were bad enough. (My sister eventually became a skilled violinist, even earning the position of second violinist with the Cape Cod Symphony.)
Some of my earliest memories are of walking through the woods with my father. He was an avid outdoorsman, and people often said that if they ever found themselves stranded on a deserted island, they’d choose him to be there with them. Walking through nature with Dad was never rushed. We’d stop and look at things, and he would explain what they were and what they could be used for. He taught me to observe, to listen, and to watch the sky and the animals around me. I also learned to see the outdoors as nature’s grocery store—if you knew where to look, you wouldn’t go hungry. These days, I find myself passing on these same lessons to my grandchildren.
Photo credit E. A. Meigs
I was an unusual child. Though I had friends, I often spent time alone, wandering the woodlands, marshes, and nearby beaches. I knew where several springs were hidden, offering a refreshing drink when I was thirsty. I built small huts from saplings and thick brush, weaving deadwood to form the walls. I also spent time gazing at nature, mentally taking notes that later inspired my writing. Even as a child, I wrote stories and illustrated them with my own drawings. My explorations often led me to collect treasures—rocks, pinecones, acorns, feathers, bugs, and other fun finds—that surprised my mother during laundry day.
When I was about nine or ten, I decided to build a makeshift tent using a tarp, bits of rope, clothespins, and sharpened sticks as stakes. I set it up across the stream from our house in a small clearing amid the trees. Over time, I gathered a decent camping kit, and eventually, I was given an old but sturdy canvas tent. It served me well until a family of mice took up residence during the winter, leaving my tent with much more “ventilation” than intended. By that point, I had saved enough from my afterschool job to buy a modern nylon tent. Little did I know, that small blue-and-yellow pup tent, along with my camping gear, would come in handy when I first set out on my own. When rentals were hard to find and/or too expensive, I occasionally lived in the woods.
I loved boondocking—that is, camping in the woods rather than in a campground. I’ve never liked campgrounds much, but I’d sometimes stay in them during the off-season. I was fortunate that we didn’t have dangerous wildlife like poisonous snakes or large predators, so I could enjoy nature without much worry. The worst I might encounter was a skunk. Now that I’ve worked for an employer like Fish and Wildlife and seen gruesomely graphic photographs and read the reports of the aftermath of grizzly bear attacks, etc., I am much more aware of the potential hazards. Some folks don’t seem to mind tent camping in bear country, but having seen half-eaten remains, I would only do it in a hard-sided RV. Motivated bears can get into almost anything, but at least an RV gives you a chance to start up the engine and drive away and thus oblige them to run for their dinner.
And that’s it for this entry. I’ll be adding more blogs to go with the Story of Us! podcast.
Be sure to check out World of Paleoanthropology for interviews, articles, book reviews, and much more! It is a veritable goldmine of paleoanthropological information!
To learn more about Dreamer Books: An Ice Age Saga check out these pages!
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…
