Sally Keehn, Author

Retelling A Scottish Ballad American Style
by Sally Keehn

Stories stalk me; they keep after me year after year until I finally find the voice in which to tell them. Over the past twenty or so years that I've been actively writing, these stories have grown out of actual events on American soil, whether it was Pennsylvania farm land, the Maryland coast, or Virginia's Shenandoah Valley. So I never imagined I'd be stalked by a fantastical story, birthed hundreds of years ago in ancient Scotland with its royal kings, queens, imposing castles and enchanted woodlands.

It all began in 1995 with my decision to attend a Children's Literature New England institute - "Writing the World: Myth as Metaphor." Included on the reading list was Susan Cooper's delightful picture book retelling of an old Scottish ballad - Tam Lin. In it, the king's daughter, Margaret, takes on the Elfin Queen in order to save Tam Lin, the boy Margaret loves, from being sacrificed to the Devil. Margaret holds fast to Tam Lin as the Elfin Queen casts her fearful spells - transforming him in Margaret's hands from a snarling wolf, to a writhing snake, to a tall wild deer, to a red-hot bar of iron. At the end, when Tam Lin grows too hot to handle, Margaret must throw what's left of him into a Holy Well and then, as Susan Cooper so tantalizingly puts it, "You shall see what you shall see."

This love story - the holding on, the letting go - captivated me. I became further entranced when, in our CLNE discussion group, Madeleine L'Engle, beloved author of the classic A Wrinkle In Time, illuminated the Tam Lin myth as a metaphor for our lives by telling us the story of a woman she'd known who'd become possessed. Nothing seemed to help her. On the night before the woman was to be committed (a dark night on which the woman was acting worse than she ever had), Madeleine got in bed with her. She wrapped her arms around the woman and no matter how hard the woman screamed and struggled, Madeleine didn't let her go. The woman fought most of the night, but still, Madeleine held on and by morning, when Madeleine finally released her, the woman had quieted; she'd become herself again.

Later, I told my editor - Patricia Lee Gauch, of Philomel Books - about Tam Lin and Madeleine L'Engle's experience and how much it had touched me. And Patti said, "Sally, you should retell the Tam Lin story."

I balked. I'd never written fantasy - only historical fiction and a contemporary novel. Besides which, Tam Lin was set in faraway Scotland! To that, Patti said, "Why not set the story in the Appalachian Mountains? The Scotch-Irish with their stories, traditions and ballads settled there."

I found that intriguing.

Over the next five years, from time to time, I'd feel the Tam Lin story stalking me. And then, on a vacation trip south, I visited the Museum of Appalachia in Norris, Tennessee. I fell in love with the mountain folk depicted there. From Grandpa Clear, of whom his grandson wrote, "If he had the whole world and I wanted it, he'd give it to me." To Cedar Creek Charlie who took care of his mother and after she died, painted his entire house, inside and out, with stripes and polka-dots. To Dr. Andy Osborne, who ministered to the sick and dying all his days and when he died himself, the preacher who conducted the funeral had to furnish Andy with a suit for his burial.

A thought hit me - sharp as a wolf's bite - Tam Lin! I could retell the story using loving mountain folk like these! They resonated with me; they were so singular, independent and downright endearing.

Two days later, among the isolated cabins, old barns and mist clinging to the mountaintops surrounding Cades Cove - an historic settlement preserved high in the Smoky Mountain National Park in Eastern Tennessee - I found a magical and seemingly time-less setting in which to place the story.

After this, piling wonder on top of wonder, I attended the National Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, Tennessee. Listening to the story tellers, many from the South, enchanted me even further and also evoked memories of kids I'd grown up with on my grandfather's Maryland farm - Teddy, Pop, Wanda, Jib, Charles and Earl - all hailing originally from West Virginia's Appalachians. As I hearkened back to the fun we'd had exploring the woods, building forts and sharing scary stories, I thought - I could tell the Tam Lin story Appalachian style.

So I finally settled down to do just that and the voice of the main character - Gnat Stokes, a feisty Tennessee mountain gal with a heart as big as sky - came pouring out. I loved Gnat Stokes. She was funny, fierce and so determined to find out about life and love so that she could save Goodlow Pryce from the evil clutches of the Swamp Queen. As I traveled with her, she took me on a journey that, at turns, had me laughing, crying and always - always - amazed by her cheerful optimism.

Gnat taught me a thing or two about love and a cheerful attitude as she dealt with the devastation of a mountain community stricken by America's Civil War, an evil Swamp Queen, a talking cat, the power of a mighty crystal called love and love's hardest side - letting go.

We had us a good old time - Tam Lin, American style - complete with singing, fiddle playing, cornbread, beans, moonshine, Swamp Cats, Swamp Knights, Warrior Bogies, little polka dotted fairies riding on the backs of stink-pot turtles and the like. I didn't want our Appalachian adventure to end. When that end came - as ends can and do - I had to say, "Gnat's story's told; I have to let her go," which turned out be the hardest thing of all.