Daniel Mackmain has always been a loner. As a dryad’s son, he can see the supernatural alongside everyday reality, and that’s not something he can easily share. Perhaps visiting East Anglia to stay with Finele Wicken and her family will be different. They have their own ties to the uncanny.
But something is amiss in the depths of the Fens. Creatures Dan has never encountered outside folk tales are growing uneasy, even hostile. He soon learns they have good reason. Can he help them before they retaliate and disaster strikes the unsuspecting locals? Can the Green Man help Dan in a landscape dominated by water for centuries, where the oaks were cut down aeons ago?
The Green Man’s Silence will be published on 2nd September 2020 by Wizard’s Tower Press.
This story started with some casual information that I didn’t think much about when I added it to The Green Man’s Foe. The folk tale that inspired Finele as a character is from Cambridgeshire, so it made sense to say that’s where her family lives. Afterwards, I found myself wondering what Dan would make of the Fens if he ever visited her there. Like most people who don’t know the region, he would just think it’s a flat place with very few trees. While I was thinking about that, the archaeologist Francis Pryor had a book published looking at this area and its long, complex history – titled unsurprisingly The Fens. That’s a fascinating read which started me on the path to writing the story you have just read.
East Anglia isn’t a part of England that I know well myself, so my husband and I spent a week’s holiday near Ely last November, to see what inspiration I might find. As you will see, that trip was very worthwhile. I definitely recommend visiting the Fens, and the local museums, historic houses and churches. Places like Ely, King’s Lynn and Wisbech are well worth simply walking around, to see their history reflected in their architecture. I found the Seahenge exhibition in King’s Lynn particularly interesting as I looked at it through Dan Mackmain’s eyes. We also found a carved Green Man who doesn’t look to be taking life at all seriously as he pulls a face and sticks his tongue out in St Margaret’s Church.
This book owes a particular debt to the Wisbech and Fenland Museum. The Museum Society was founded in Wisbech in 1835 and there was a Literary Society in the town from 1781 to 1877. If you visit the current handsome building, you will see all sorts of fascinating things, as well as one particular exhibit that would certainly give Dan a nasty surprise – but no spoilers! The National Trust nature reserve at Wicken Fen supplied me with further essential information about the communities that lived and thrived all across the region, cutting reed and sedge, digging peat and catching fish, eels and waterfowl, both before and after the waters were drained. As you might imagine, staff at both places were intrigued when I explained my reasons for buying an armful of books of local history and the distinctive local folklore.
Something I have realised writing these books is the depth and breadth of the folklore that endures in rural England, collected by antiquarians and enthusiasts. I see the extent of such mythology’s influence, as I recognise these stories from passing mentions in literature from Shakespeare to Kipling and right up to the present day. At the same time, I come across half-tales and references that make it clear how many stories have faded away for lack of telling, leaving only tantalising traces. Together, these aspects of our folklore legacy offer me tremendous scope as a writer. I am able to draw on a familiarity with traditional fairy-tale creatures and themes that readers may not be consciously aware they have. At the same time, I have a free hand to weave in those stray fragments that I come across to enrich my story with surprises. I suspect I am working in an age-old tradition as I do that.