August

Three young women; one cursed summer; one night of desperate magic.

The month of August builds more than just heat at the Bardic school of Ynys Môn. Seventeen year old poetry student Adaryn is selectively mute, a condition which leaves her always on the edges - among her peers, and on the island, wishing for escape across the sea. Desperate for inclusion and jealous of her more outgoing classmates, she struggles to connect with anyone besides her best friend, blacksmith El, so when wild child harpist Carys trusts Adaryn with a secret, she is determined to help in any way she can.

Carys has been cursed by the shadows that no mortal man may ever love her. To devise a solution, Adaryn must draw on all the magical and bardic knowledge she has gained from the Druids. But Adaryn has no way of knowing how her own loneliness and desperate need will infuse the magic she wields that night. Weaving a man from flowers and earth, the girls set off a chain of events that threaten to shatter hearts, friendships, and the very fabric of life itself.

This novel-in-verse is a gender-reversed reimagining of the ancient Welsh myth of Lleu and Blodeuwedd, filled with magic and desire, shapeshifting and betrayal.

August was, in a way, inevitable. I have been captivated by, and working with, the myth of Lleu and Blodeuwedd for many years, and writing this story was the culmination of this work. It began with a ritual journey to meet the dark goddess at Samhain back in 2016. Then followed several years of deep work with the archetype of the dark goddess, who became encapsulated for me in the figure of Blodeuwedd, the flower bride.

The story of Lleu and Blodeuwedd can be found in the Fourth Branch of the Mabinogion, an ancient book of Welsh mythology. I first encountered the story while living in the Welsh borderlands, and beginning my study of druidry. The tale of Lleu and Blodeuwedd has so many deep layers to it, and captivated me from the start. Blodeuwedd was a deeply transformational and important character to me, and further exploration had me come to a deeper, more meaningful, understanding of Lleu’s role. I knew I had to write my own version of the story, but the idea was left to germinate for another few years, waiting patiently until the time was right.

Then, suddenly, the story of August came to me almost fully formed. I scribbled down page after page of notes, capturing the idea before it escaped me. Then, I wrote the majority of the poems that formed the book that summer, over the month of August, writing at least one poem per day. It felt important to write it all during August, the month the story is set, experiencing the season for myself and allowing that visceral understanding to permeate my writing. Then followed months of editing, of drawing these disparate poems together into a cohesive story.

August is a gender-reversed reimagining of the original tale. Aderyn, the narrator, is one of three girls central to the story, each one loosely encapsulating one of the curses placed upon Lleu. August himself is my recreation of Blodeuwedd. The original story is deeply imbued with connection to the land, and this is something deeply important to me. Our human connection to nature is a theme I explore in much of my work, and the land became a central character in my writing of August.

Writing August was deeply healing. I am autistic, and experienced my own form of mutism as a child. I often felt as though I had no voice. Aderyn is not me. Her experiences and feelings are not my own. But giving a voice to Aderyn, letting her express herself through poetry, felt so important. A way of giving voice to the voiceless, following her as she found her own unique expression of self.

I sincerely hope you enjoy August, perhaps finding the solace, magic, escapism and healing that I did within its pages.

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