I purchased Mourning Dove by Claire Fullerton for two reasons.
First, I had read Dancing to an Irish
Reel which takes place in my favorite place—Ireland—and thoroughly enjoyed
it so I knew I enjoyed her style of writing. Second, Mourning Dove takes place in Memphis in the 1970s. I
lived for a few years during the ‘70s in the Mississippi Delta and I was curious
how the backdrop of Mourning Dovefit into my recollections of the place
and the era.
Watch the video or read my review below the video:
From the beginning, I was intrigued because the narrator of
the story, Millie Crossan, mentions that her beloved brother Finley is dead. I
found myself wondering with each twist in the journey whether that would be the
moment he dies, and it cast a bittersweet mood over the book, knowing that each
moment of his life was precious and it would be cut short way too soon.
Family dynamics come to life through a loving and caring but
alcoholic father and we view Memphis society through their socialite mother as
the parents separate and divorce and the mother remarries. Finley seems
grounded and wise beyond his years, providing stability and refuge for Millie. Music
becomes part of the backdrop as Finley joins a band and it appears that success
is imminent. And though Millie eventually graduates, gets married, miscarries
and is divorced, the book is not about her relationship with her
boyfriend/spouse or friends in Memphis as much as it is an ode to her brother
and the vital role he played in her life. They are almost like soul mates,
weaving through their own lives yet always finding their way back to the other
despite the miles that eventually separates them.
When I finished Mourning Dove, I was struck by the brevity of life and
how quickly it plays itself out. I was also reminded that regardless of the
paths we take in adulthood, our lives are truly formed by those early years. It
brought back memories for me of a different time and place, a bygone era that
seems cruel and crude in comparison with today’s enlightenment. It reminded me
just how far we have come, and how far we have yet to go.
In The Shadowy Horses by Susanna Kearsley, archeologist Verity Grey begins an
excavation in Scotland. The Ninth Roman Legion was rumored to have camped there
as they marched north from York to fight the Scots, and the owner of a remote
manor house is convinced his property contains the bones of the lost legion.
From the first night in the manor house, Verity hears the
horses thundering across the fields beneath her window, whinnying and snorting
as their hooves pound the ground. Yet when she begins her first day of work,
she discovers there are no horses within miles around.
The cook’s son has paranormal gifts that Verity vainly
attempts to logically explain away. He sees the ghost of a Roman sentinel
walking through the fields. Verity reminds him of his sister, so the phantom is
determined to remain near her, watching over her and protecting her—which
factors into the climactic scenes. The cook’s son also sees things before they
happen and occasionally is consumed by other unseen presences.
As Verity begins the excavation work, she is joined by
others including a handsome Scot named David so in addition to the ghost and
the work, she finds herself caught up in romance.
I have loved every Susanna Kearsley book I’ve read. Her beautiful style reminds me of books I read
while growing up; a modern-day Daphne du Maurier or Mary Stewart. The
characters are complex, revealing themselves one layer at a time. The setting
is described so exquisitely that I could smell the heather in the fields, the
rain moving in, the fish market in the village. I could hear the shadowy horses
thundering through the fields, I could feel the ghostly presence of one that
can never leave his last encampment. Reading any of Kearsley’s books is truly
an immersive experience.
There is a twist at the end that I didn’t see coming but in
retrospect, all the clues were there, cleverly hidden in plain sight.
I definitely give this book five stars and I’m anxious to
read another of Kearsley’s books as quickly as possible. They are addictive.
I have often heard the phrase “geography is destiny”.
Originally a geopolitical theory that refers to certain geographic regions that
carry strategic advantage, it can also be applied to the way your life unfolds,
the opportunities open to you and ultimately to what you are able to achieve in
life. This philosophy was brilliantly portrayed in the 2017 neo-Western murder
mystery movie inspired by a true story, Wind River, starring Jeremy
Renner and Elizabeth Olsen.
The story takes place on the Wind River Indian Reservation
in Wyoming in the middle of winter. It is an inhospitable place, isolated from
the rest of the world in a winter wonderland that can turn vicious in an
instant. Early in the movie we learn the atmosphere becomes so cold that the air
in the lungs can actually crystallize, leading to death. When expert tracker
and U.S. Fish and Wildlife Agent Cory Lambert (played by Jeremy Renner) discovers
a young woman’s body six miles from the nearest structure, he recognizes the
telltale signs of pulmonary hemorrhage. The question is why she was so far from
anything; tracing her footsteps, he comes to the conclusion she had been
running for six miles—barefoot on ice and snow.
The Wind River Indian Reservation is a place forgotten by
modern man, though it encompasses over 3,000 square miles as well as 3,500
square miles of water. It is the home of just over 26,000 Eastern Shoshone and
Northern Arapaho Native Americans, descendants of people pushed onto the
reservation from their original territory beginning in 1868, some 30 years
after the Cherokee were relocated along the Trail of Tears to Oklahoma.
The Reservation has only a handful of people on their police
force and because the FBI has jurisdiction on federal property, an agent is
called in from Las Vegas when the coroner confirms the victim had been sexually
assaulted. Jane Banner, played by Elizabeth Olsen, is unfamiliar with the
unforgiving landscape and relies on Cory Lambert to assist her in the investigation.
The landscape itself becomes an antagonist. Regardless of
the temperature in the room, you will find yourself shivering and reaching for
an extra throw or blanket. The fact that Native Americans were forced to live
there—and they survived—is a testament to the ability of human beings to adapt.
Opportunities there are nearly non-existent; in one scene, a young man is asked
why he didn’t get out when he might have been able to escape the poverty, high
crime and hopelessness. One gets the sense that because these people have lived
there for generations, sometimes the land itself prevents them from straying
far, regardless of the opportunities that might be available to them elsewhere.
It is as if their feet have roots grown deep into the frozen ground, fusing
them forever to that place and time.
I admit I closed my eyes during a scene toward the end of
the movie, where we learn in a flashback what occurred to the young woman and
how she came to be outside in her bare feet, running for her life for six miles
over ice and snow that would have stopped an average human being in their
tracks long before it stopped her. By this time, the haunting landscape and the plight of its people had
pervaded my spirit and long after the movie was over, I felt as if I was still
there.
Missing person statistics exist for every demographic except
Native American women. The life expectancy on the Wind River Indian Reservation
is only 49 years and unemployment rates are more than 80%. (Bustle,2017) Though missing person statistics are not kept, Native American women
are 10 times more likely to be murdered than other groups and experience rape
and sexual assault at 4 times the national average. (NewYork Times, 2012)
If geography determines our destiny, it is difficult to
fathom why anyone would remain in a place that appears destined to kill them—perhaps
the original intent when these tribes were forced from their original
territories. And yet it happens all across the globe. The invisible system that
anchors us remain so strong that it is often difficult—if not impossible—to break
free.
For nearly 20 years I have written suspense novels and
historical suspense, so it may come as a surprise—to you and to me—that I have
written my first children’s book, The Adventures of Blade and Rye.
Written for children ages 10 and under, The Adventures of Blade and Rye is written as a lyrical poem
similar to the style I loved when I was a small child and listened to my mother
reading The Cat in the Hat or The Night Before Christmas. The first
things I memorized were stanzas from those book pages, and they instilled in me
a love and appreciation for poetry.
The book is about two tiny fairies named Blade and Rye and
their adventures when they discover Planet Earth. They fall in love with the
Blue Planet and beg their teacher, Miss Indigo, to remain there to witness all
the exciting things that occur in nature. They must find the perfect home, which
takes them from mountain peaks to ocean depths. When they discover just the
right spot, they are turned into two tiny blades of grass to keep them safe
from wandering into danger. And there under the protective arms of a yew tree
beside an idyllic lake, they bask in the sunshine, witness the moon’s
appearance and discover life underground.
I have always loved angels and fairies and as I have researched
my Scots-Irish ancestry, the love and appreciation for these wee creatures have
only grown.
The official release date is November 22, 2018. Until then,
pre-orders can be placed with local bookstores for the paperback edition, which
retails for $11.99. The Kindle version is also available for pre-order at $4.99,
and amazon has jumped the gun and is selling the paperback prior to the
official release date. The book is 44 pages and full color inside and out,
illustrated beautifully by Susan Fitzgerald, who truly makes Blade and Rye come
to life.
My collie Simone passed away this week. Many of my readers
and social media followers came to know her and everyone that met her adored
her. Her picture hangs in the Robeson County (NC) Humane Society offices; the no-kill
facility that rescued her, a symbol of hope for all the dogs and cats that come
through there, a promise of a better life that is possible to all.
Her own early years were marked with abuse and neglect,
which was how she had come to Animal Control and discovered by RCHS volunteers.
I was asked to foster her; though she was about two years old and should have
weighed 75 pounds, she was barely 45 and completely traumatized. My job was to
get her well so she could be adopted out, but I fell in love with her and she
never left my home. I thought I was rescuing her, but it turns out, she was
rescuing me.
I also had two foxhounds, Mattie and Skipper. Mattie taught
her how to climb the stairs to my office so she could hang out, where the best
water was kept (in the toilet), and how to patrol the yard. Skipper taught her
where all the treats were and how to get them handed out. He cleaned her teeth
and taught Eddie, a Jack Russell adopted a year later, how to clean them as
well. She was patient as her jowls were lifted up by their muzzles while they
worked on her.
After she’d put on weight, I brought her to be spayed. It
was during surgery that the vet discovered she had given birth shortly before
she was rescued at the pound, and she’d never fully healed. She had only been
with me for a couple of months at that point and hadn’t yet figured out that
she was in her Forever Home. When I picked her up, she appeared depressed, her
head hanging, her steps slow but steady, following the leash but not really
looking up. When we arrived back home and Mattie and Skipper greeted her
enthusiastically, she sprang to life, running from room to room, jumping in
each doggie bed before rushing off to the next. It was then that she knew she
would always come back to us. She was family.
Eventually, Skipper passed away, followed a few years later
by Mattie, and Simone became Big Sister to Eddie and Lucy, another Jack Russell
adopted five years later. Her face lit up when they were near and she treated them
as if they were her own puppies that never managed to grow up.
Simone and I grew older together. We slowed down
considerably, her with arthritis and me with nerve damage, both of us favoring
one leg and unable to walk far. We both grew hard of hearing until I realized
she had to see me before she could hear me. And when she walked into a room and
suddenly stopped and looked around, I knew she was wondering what she’d come in
there for.
We had our routines; as I was getting dressed each morning,
she would come to stand by my side until I loved on her and told her she was
the most beautiful collie ever, the Claudia Schiffer of collies, and a
sweetheart, too. More often than not, she would leave the room, circle around
and come back in to hear it all over again.
She followed me to my office every morning for her dental
treat and to lie at my feet while I worked, and she followed me downstairs at
lunch and wherever I went.
Simone knew what so many humans don’t: that love and
acceptance is all that matters. Though she had been abused and neglected, she
greeted everyone that came to the house with the same silent dignity and gentle
greeting—man or woman, black or white, two legs or four. It made no difference
to her that she was black and the Jack Russells were white; she loved them
anyway and they adored her.
She had gone to the vet the week before Hurricane Florence
and gotten a clean bill of health. And earlier this week, she’d returned to
have her teeth cleaned. When she came home, she was unsteady on her feet but we’d
been told to expect that as the anesthesia took time to wear off. She laid on the
patio listening to the birds singing, eventually coming through the doggie
doors into the house, where she tried to get comfortable on the air
conditioning vent in the living room and then in front of the tower fan in the
bedroom.
I lay down beside her, telling her what a sweetheart she was
and how everybody loved her. Her head was up, her ears erect, and she seemed to
be watching something I couldn’t see. I dozed off and dreamed that she was about
3 or 4 years old and outside where Mattie and Skipper were greeting her as they
had that day so long ago. Each was asking the other where they had been before
taking off at breakneck speed to run and jump and play. When I opened my eyes,
I realized only two or three minutes had passed and when I checked on Simone,
she was gone.
Many religions believe at the moment we pass to the other
side, we are greeted by someone we know, someone that loves us, because we all
have someone we trust and love. I like to think as Simone passed, Mattie and
Skipper were truly there waiting for her, eager to show her around. They no
doubt have introduced her to Buddy, the Australian Shepherd that helped me
raise them, and to Charmer, the Old English Mastiff who was Buddy’s best friend
and “brother”. I have a feeling that my mom is telling her right now that she
is a sweetheart, and her voice so like mine, is soothing her.
But the truth is I miss her. I miss her walking into the bathroom
every morning to hear that she’s the Claudia Schiffer of collies. I miss seeing
her sleeping in her bed with all four paws in the air. I miss listening to her snoring
while I watch television. I miss hearing her paws behind me, following me
everywhere, laying down in places where I’d have to step over her, cuddling in
my arms like a true lady and then burping in my face.
Conflict always drives fiction. In real life, we may wish
for things to fall into place easily, days go by smoothly, and relationships
unfold effortlessly. But in fiction, nothing can be easy—because easy equates
to boring. Watch the vlog below for all the details, or skip through to the list below.
Plots and subplots take on greater significance if they
contain one of the Most Stressful Events, as defined by the Holmes-Rahe Stress
Scale:
Death of a spouse, a child or a close
friend or family member. Especially when this takes place at the beginning
of the book, it can take us on a journey to discover the cause of death or the
events that unfolded culminating in the death. It can also serve as a departure
point for the future, such as the surviving spouse learning to redefine his or
her life without the one they love. It can also become an investigation into a
double life or secrets hidden. And it can also open the door into the
afterlife, such as Richard Matheson’s What Dreams May Come.
Divorce or marital separation. Fiction
can begin with the separation, as my book, A Thin Slice of Heaven did, which
began a journey for the spouse left behind. (See trailer below) The plot could include other
factors with a divorce or marital separation as a subplot woven into the
tapestry of the book. Or events could unfold that lead to a climactic scene
involving the divorce or marital separation. In each of these scenarios, there
must be a sense of moving on, such as Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore by Robert Getchell.
Imprisonment. I can’t mention
imprisonment without bringing to mind The Shawshank Redemption by Stephen King,
which begins with the imprisonment of an innocent man into a corrupt and cruel
prison system. Imprisonment is also a common theme outside the law,
particularly with the kidnapping of young women or children, leading the
parents or someone close to the missing person on a quest to discover how and
why they were captured—and of course, to attempt to free them.
Personal injury or illness. This plot
is meant to turn the character’s life upside down, forcing them to look inside
themselves for the strength and the courage to survive. It is often used with
the injury or illness occurring in the beginning of the book. The plot then
brings the reader along for the daily struggle, causing us to empathize with
their misfortune. It is often through reading books of this nature that we
strengthen our ability to sympathize with others and appreciate their personal
struggles and misfortunes. The injury or illness can also be used as a reason
to keep the person in one place or incapacitate them in some way. An
interesting book is The Art of Looking into Hitchcock’s Rear Window by Stefan Sharff, which provides a detailed analysis of the main
character’s injury and his fixation on what is happening outside his window.
Marriage. This plot can revolve around
an existing marriage and can lead the reader to the point where we’re unsure
whether the marriage can survive the traumas inflicted upon it. It can also
begin with a marriage of two unlikely partners, perhaps two people from
different walks of life or separate cultures, people whose personalities are
not compatible—or the wedding can be the focus of the book. It can also be the
story of reconciliation, in which two people that walked away from one another
are brought back together through extraordinary circumstances.
Work. This plot lends itself to an
infinite variety of genres, as the characters’ vocations are key elements. It
could begin with something traumatic happening at work that catapults our hero
into a journey of mystery, romance or adventure. It could be a character study
in how one person melts down due to work stress and how each decision that
person makes impacts countless others. It can also include a new job or
retirement, both of which cast the hero into a new situation. My book Vicki’s Key begins with Vicki
leaving her job at the CIA after a failed mission, embarking on a new journey
to a small town where she hopes—but doesn’t get—a peaceful transition to
civilian life. (See trailer below.) Work can also include war, palace intrigue, historical
backdrops, and a variety of locations and scenes.
In each of these situations, we place the main character
into an unknown situation where they must adjust to changes they may not have
wanted or even imagined. It is the conflict that propels the story forward,
placing the reader into their shoes and causing us to ask ourselves what we
would do if we were caught in a similar situation. We may even straddle the
fine line between good and evil, sanity and unhealthy states of mind—or even
circumstances that could cause an otherwise law-abiding citizen to go off the
rails. In all of these situations, we know the hero—and perhaps other
characters—will be transformed at the end of the journey.
I love a great ghost story, and Secrets of the Lighthouse by Santa Montefiore is a unique one. The first page instantly drew
me in as I pictured a young wife and mother looking at a lighthouse in the
beautiful Connemara region of Ireland and a tiny chapel by the sea where family
was gathering for a funeral. As the chapter drew to a close and I discovered
the narrator, a woman whose shoes I'd set myself into, was actually a ghost
watching her own funeral, I was completely intrigued. I had to find out what
happened in the charred remains of the abandoned lighthouse.
In between the ghost’s chapters, we follow the
story of Ellen Trawton, who has decided to run away from her family’s home in
England and visit her mother’s sister Peg, whom she has never met. In fact,
Ellen’s mother had been adamant that her family never visit Ireland so when
Ellen arrives, she is shocked to discover that she not only has an aunt but a
number of uncles and cousins. Ellen is running away from an arranged marriage
she never wanted to a man she doesn’t love, as well as the pretentious
trappings of her mother’s life—a life she wants her daughters to emulate. Aunt
Peg’s home sits along the same coastline as the abandoned lighthouse and Ellen
is intrigued with the rumors of what happened there, each piece of gossip more
salacious than the last.
The author causes the village to come alive. I
could feel the Wild Atlantic Way as the ocean’s spray reached Ireland's west
coast, could smell the salt on the air and taste the rain that is ever present.
Within the pages, I witnessed a large group of characters spring to life and
yet I never felt overwhelmed by them all, and each was easy to remember. Each,
in fact, carried a story of their own, a small piece of the larger puzzle that
brought the mystery to life.
Secrets of the Lighthouse is a story of decisions made, often in haste and without
regard for the consequences. In turn, they placed each character on a
particular path, some by their own choice and others as collateral damage.
Ellen discovers secrets that were hidden for
thirty years, secrets that impacted both her past and her future. Her mother’s
story unravels to reveal the lies that were told, the life that was chosen—and
that life which she left behind, the consequences of which reared up when least
expected.
When Ellen falls for Conor, the ghost’s
widower, she must decide whether to believe the tales told in the village pub
or discover what really happened that fateful night at the lighthouse. As she
grows ever closer to Conor, his dead wife must decide what she will do, where
she will go, and whether to leave this life behind or continue haunting it.
If you enjoy stories set in Ireland, a ghost
story, romance, mystery and adventure, you will enjoy Secrets of the Lighthouse. I am looking forward to reading more from this author.
One major way in which fiction differs from reality is with
closure. Readers need to have most of their questions answered by the end of
the book or they feel dissatisfied. In reality, a lack of closure is commonplace
and often leads to a great deal of angst.
A common circumstance that prevents closure is through a
death, especially if the death is sudden or unexpected. We may have a tendency
to believe that the people surrounding us will always be there and will always
be available to answer our questions, when in reality none of us carry any guarantees.
A loved one’s unexpected death might then leave us with unanswered questions for
months—or even years.
In fiction, the plotline may begin with the death of a loved
one. We find our hero suffering from heartbreak due to the physical loss as
well as experiencing a sense of loss from all their unanswered questions. This,
in turn, places the hero—and the reader—on a journey. A notable bestseller that
uses this plotline is The Shack by Wm. Paul Young.
Or we might discover the deceased led a double life and the
person we thought we knew was someone else entirely. In A Double Life by Flynn Berry, the
deceased is someone that is murdered and the loved one—the hero’s father—is missing
for nearly thirty years. In Claire’s journey to discover what happened, she is
placed on a path that will determine whether her recently discovered, estranged
father is a murderer. The book is inspired by the real life story of Richard
John Bingham, 7th Earl of Lucan and better known as Lord Lucan, who disappeared in 1974.
In other stories, we discover things about the deceased that
might have pulled the hero closer to their loved one, if only they had known. A
notable one is Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Hg,
in which a couple’s favorite child is found dead in a local lake, plunging the
family into a journey filled with secrets and longing.
In other stories, the hero might have inherited property
from the deceased, often from a distant relative they barely knew. The property
is never in the hero’s hometown, but always in an unfamiliar setting, which
takes us on a journey of discovery together. They often encounter secrets long
hidden, a haunted property, or in forging a new life for themselves, they fall
in love or otherwise are placed on a path they had never foreseen. Many times
they confront problems, often seemingly insurmountable, and through the act of
perseverance they come through the fire, forever changed.
In reality, not having closure is also increasingly common
through ghosting, a term I (being of an older generation) was not familiar with
until recently, although the AO (Always Online) generation considers it a fact
of life. In this case, the loved one has not died but has simply become a ghost
to someone with whom they had a relationship. The one that is left may have
been unfriended or unfollowed on social media, have had their phone numbers and
email addresses blocked, often rendering the other party impossible to reconnect
with. This leaves even more unanswered questions as the biggest question of all—Why?—remains elusive. This is
particularly frustrating when the parties live far apart, even on opposite
sides of the world, preventing the party that was left from physically
reconnecting.
One novel that dramatically covers this phenomenon is Ghosted by Rosie Walsh. Two people meet and fall
in love and when one disappears, the other is left with a million questions.
This is a page-turner that takes our hero on a quest to discover what happened
to the man she loves.
Then there are novels in which closure doesn’t occur until
decades later, such as Secrets of the Lighthouse by Santa Montefiore, the story of a woman that travels to Ireland and discovers thirty-year-old
family secrets—and in so doing, discovers her future.
In fiction, unlike real life, authors must make sense of the
journey we’ve put the reader on. In reality, much of our lives appear to have
no rhyme or reason and we are constantly discarding those things our
subconscious deems unimportant to fill our brains and our time with those
things our subconscious considers important. Novels must dispense with the
unimportant and focus only on what is critical to the plot. Every scene must
perform double duty, and by the end of the book the reader must be satisfied why they were taken on this journey. The
best books leave lessons behind. The best books contain characters that come alive
in our minds and heart, characters that have become our friends or our foes
during the course of the book and that remain with us long after we have
finished that last page. To leave the character in limbo or the reasons
unexplained is to leave the reader with the sense that closure has eluded them.
The exception is when a book leads us to the next in the
series. We still require closure of those challenges that brought us through
the plot with the characters, but we also begin to see clues that the characters’
stories are continuing. Perhaps they are given a new job, different mission, a
move is imminent or a romance is beginning. We have become invested in the
characters so we will eagerly await their next adventure as we have done with
James Bond, Jason Bourne and others.
And in that continuing adventure we discover that the novels
now imitate life, and once one chapter is laid to rest, another begins.
There have been a lot of comments about the cover of Checkmate: Clans and
Castles. Eye-catching and unusual, reviewers and contest judges have
been keen to connect the dots between all the different elements, leading to
this post on the thought that goes into a cover.
The background is a photograph of fire, inspired by the fact
that “all of Ulster was burning.” The fires began in Derry, bordered by the
River Foyle to the east and County Donegal to the west, set by the last Gaelic
Irish King of Ireland, Cahir O’Doherty, and his men at the same time as O’Doherty
killed Derry’s Governor, Sir George Paulet.
William Neely and others that had sworn allegiance to King James were a
scant group against O’Doherty’s more powerful and numerous forces and as the
sun set, Wills asked, “What day is this? I am afraid I do not even know the
date.”
The men thought for a moment. “April 19,” Tomas said finally. “A
Tuesday, it is.”
They fell silent then, each with his own thoughts, as the last vestiges
of the sun descended beyond the horizon. It was odd in a way, Wills thought; he
could not recall a single day in which it had not rained. Even on the most
beautiful of mornings with naught a cloud in the sky, there was always rain by
afternoon. It was the hide of the beast, being on an island such as this with
nothing to stop the clouds as they blew over the Atlantic. And it was the
reason, he knew, for the varied shades of green; for the forests that sprang
back up even after they had been trampled down or burned out; for the lush
vegetation that stubbornly grew amidst the rocks and the limestone. And yet on
this date—Tuesday, April 19, 1608—as Derry was torched and burned to the
ground, not a single drop of rain had fallen to douse her flames.
O’Doherty would rally all of Ulster together, joining clans
that had traditionally fought against one another, in a brazen attempt to
regain Ireland and drive the English and Protestant Scots from their island,
depicted on the cover as soldiers on horseback within the outline of chess
pieces:
All of Ulster was burning.
Colonists flooded the tiny settlement of Fort Stewart in the ensuing
days; each questioned regarding their village, its inhabitants and possible
identification of clans involved. They came from the east and west, north and
south, all with the same tale: surprise attacks, civilians ordered out of their
homes before they were torched, and men killed when they fought back. They came
in overwhelming forces flying flags of a dozen or more clans and in each
instance they were urged to return to their native countries. It appeared as if
the Irish were expelling the immigrants and there was nothing and no one to
stop them.
Some simply passed through on their way to Donegal and a ship to carry
them back to their native country. Others were en route to Dublin, where they
believed they would be safer. Outside of Ulster, there was unrest but nothing
like the uncertainty of attacks and rebellion they faced here.
From the fields, he could watch the water on Drongawn Lough and his
eyes would inevitably wander to the land mass on the other side of it;
O’Doherty property, it lay like a silent sentinel, waiting, waiting.
The chess outlines were inspired by this scene that included
an altercation between Cahir O’Doherty and George Paulet:
Cahir made a move for the sword he carried across his back, but Phelim
held him steady. “Not here,” he said, the pressure on Cahir’s shoulder visibly
increasing. “Pick your place and time.”
After an awkward moment, Cahir glanced meaningfully at the chess board
and said, “You have allowed yourself to become flanked.” With that, he
reluctantly shifted his eyes away from Paulet and slowly continued toward the
door. When Wills turned back to the bar, he found three mugs waiting and Fergus
had joined his side.
“I’ll just be taking these two,” Fergus said, his large hands grasping
two mugs.
As Paulet returned to his chair, he shouted, “Serving wench! Where is
that disgusting bint? Bring me another ale. Someone has absconded with mine!”
Wills made a move to point out Paulet’s mug but Fergus moved into his
line of vision. “Don’t,” he said. “Stay out of it.”
“I am afraid,” Paulet’s chess partner stated, moving his bishop to capture
Paulet’s king, “that the ruffian was quite correct. I flanked you, dear George,
and now your king is finished. Checkmate.”
Usually, only one of the elements would have been used on
the cover: the fire, the men or the chess pieces. But the book is non-stop
action and adventure as William Neely seeks to find his fortune and his future
in Ulster, only to be caught up in O’Doherty’s Rebellion. The Neely family had
originally lived in Ulster, ironically in and around the Inishowen Peninsula
that the O’Doherty family ruled for over a thousand years. They left in the 13th
century for Scotland, and William returned in 1608. As O’Doherty’s Rebellion
broke out, he had a choice: to remain loyal to King James I of England or switch
sides and fight alongside men that might have been his distant cousins.
The book is available in all book stores; if you don’t see
it on the shelf, ask for it. Or you can buy
it today on amazon. It is also available in all ebook formats.
Our heroes often feel larger than life: Ian Fleming’s James
Bond, Tom Clancy’s Jack Ryan, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Daisy Buchanan, Patricia
Cornwell’s Kay Scarpetta or Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Millhone.
But in reality, most heroes are filled with self-doubt at
one time or another and many appear to fling themselves into self-sabotaging
behavior. When we consider it in terms of book characters, there are people
that allow themselves to be swept along by Fate while others attempt to mold or
destroy—and sometimes, mold and
destroy—everything around them.
A character that is swept along by Fate is someone that is
searching for a peaceful, idyllic existence. They don’t want to rock the boat,
but the boat ends up rocking them. We can see this in Melanie and Ashley Wilkes
in Margaret Mitchell’s Gone With the Wind: they are content reading their books, participating in
polite society events and overseeing their fortunes. Their world is rocked,
however, by a war that neither of them wanted but in which they were destined
to participate, if for no other reason than precisely because of the lifestyles
they both enjoyed at the expense of slave ownership.
A character that is intent on molding their world into
something they want can be seen in the autobiographical The Wolf of Wall Street by Jordan Belfort. Once a teenager selling Italian
ices, he became a stockbroker, earning thousands of dollars a minute through
microcap investing. He saw what he wanted and he went after it with a
single-minded focus, a tunnel vision that created an empire and made his name
infamous.
But often the characters—in our books as well as real life—sabotage
themselves. When they are at their zenith, they develop an almost pathological
tendency to tear everything apart. In Jordan Belfort’s case, it took the form
of excessive binges (including a $700,000 hotel tab), extramarital sexual
excesses, drugs, money laundering, fraud and prison. (Belfort was both the protagonist
and antagonist, because he turned out to be his own worst enemy.)
Often our heroes exhibit self-sabotaging behavior in more
subtle ways: the mediocre businessman afraid of real success, the character
that we’re begging to turn around and walk away but feels compelled to enter
the dark, frightening house filled with ghosts or bad guys… The hero that
destroys every relationship until they meet someone with equal strength that
won’t allow him or her to walk away… They could be brilliant at what they do
with their lives and then destroy it all through alcohol, drugs, gambling or simply
poor choices.
It has been said that there are no truly good people and no
truly bad ones; only those that have a mixture of both. Some move from one side
to the other in subtle ways, while others careen like trains hurtling off the
tracks. The best characters, the most memorable ones, are those that show us both
their sides: Rhett Butler, in his tender love for his daughter Bonnie as well as his illegal
blockade running; or Jesse Stone Novels by Robert B. Parker featuring Jesse as a top-notch police
chief and investigator with a dark side battling depression and alcohol while
still carrying a flame for an ex-wife who has moved on. (Made into a fabulous
film series starring Tom Selleck.) Often we cheer for the hero that is acting
outside the box but with altruistic motives.
Authors walk a fine line with these characters. The reader
must be able to identify with them or place themselves in their shoes, so their
foibles cannot be so off-putting as to turn the reader away. Sometimes it’s the
character’s weaknesses that draw the reader closer, creating sympathy but also
admiration for the way they carry on despite their personal demons.
And let’s face it: no one really wants to read about the
perfect character living the perfect life. Do they?
Watch the video below or on YouTube at https://youtu.be/0h4GwCoajAk
There are many
good books but only occasional great ones, and The
Girl from Ballymor definitely is one of the great ones. It has reminded
me many times over how it was books like this one that caused me to fall in
love with reading, which later led to a lifelong love of writing as well.
Because of that, I have decided to create a new playlist on YouTube containing
book reviews as well as post reviews on my blogs. I am a notoriously slow
reader; I prefer to read a scene and allow it to marinate, rolling it around in
my mind until I can truly feel like I am there as one of the characters,
allowing their circumstances to settle into my consciousness. For that reason,
I will not be publishing many reviews each year, but those I do are definitely
ones I recommend.
The
Girl from Ballymor
is told in two time periods as our contemporary Maria travels to Ireland to
research her family history and specifically Kitty McCarthy, a grandmother
several generations back. The plot grabbed my attention from the start
because those that follow my blogs and writing know that I began a quest many
years ago to find my ancestors in Ireland. Though my father and grandfather had
amassed quite a bit of information, it was concentrated on ancestors in America
and I wanted to go further back, partly to find out why I was so drawn to the
Emerald Isle.
We discover Maria’s ancestor Kitty after she married and had
six children, though her earlier years are told in vivid flashbacks. To say she
did not have an easy life is a vast understatement. Her husband Patrick has
died in a copper mine accident and several of her children have perished during
the potato famine of the 1840s, which drastically reduced the population from
eight million to lower than three million, between starvation-related deaths
and survivors fleeing the island. The three survivors—Kitty, her eldest son Michael
and her daughter Gracie—are slowly starving.
Maria is there
to discover what happened because Michael survived, immigrating first to
America and then returning on his own quest to find his mother. He had become a
famous artist, and many of his portraits featured the same young woman, his
mother, often wearing a Celtic brooch; yet there are no records of her death.
This is a book with so many layers that it's worth reading
again and again, a classic for the ages. There's the realization that both then
and now, a person’s existence is often determined by where they live, the
social class they were born into, and how they handle problems and challenges,
some of which are life threatening, that ultimately will decide their fate.
In a time that has become increasingly more complex, the reader steps into a
completely different world as we travel back to the 1840’s when the only goal was
to find work to survive just one more day, even if that work is breaking rocks
by hand in the Irish rain, hour after hour, for a cup of warm broth or a bite
of cheese or bread.
Kathleen McGurl is a fabulous writer, her style reminiscent
of authors I fell in love with so many decades ago, authors that expanded my
horizons, broadened my understanding of the world, and have always caused me to
want to be a better person. McGurl deserves to be listed among the greatest of
them, her words carrying weight, the characters alive in my soul, long after
reading that last page.
We’re continuing with the hero’s journey, and today I want
to tell you about the trauma that awakens the hero and catapults him or her
along their journey. The trauma can be a death (especially one that is
unexpected or sudden), a divorce or split, job loss, illness or a move—especially
one that is necessitated by financial burdens. These traumas comprise the most
stressful events an individual can experience in their lifetime.
In The Shawshank Redemption by Stephen King, Andy Defresne’ journey begins
when his wife is murdered and he is tried, convicted and sent to prison though
he is an innocent man. It is one of any man’s worst nightmares, because all he
has known is gone and he is left powerless, often victimized in a tough prison
where there is no escape—or so we think. Andy embarks on the reluctant hero’s
journey because it is not one of his making, but as we turn the pages we
discover that Andy finds traits within himself that will not only keep him
alive but eventually turn the tables on the corrupt prison management.
All great books show us characters that are transformed by
their journeys, whether it is Andy Defresne, Scarlett O’Hara or Oliver Twist.
I try to remember the life-altering traumas when I write my
own books. In Vicki’s Key, for example,
the book begins with a recurring nightmare, a memory buried in Vicki’s
consciousness when a CIA mission failed, resulting in innocent children’s
deaths. It is that mission that so traumatizes her that she leaves the CIA and
embarks on a new life—only to have the CIA catch up with her. She is
transformed through the series as she gains strength and ultimately faces her
demons.
The Tempest Murders
begins with a different type of trauma when Constable Rian Kelly’s lover dies
at the hands of a killer during one of the worst storms in Ireland’s history. We
then switch to the present day to find Kelly’s great-great-nephew, Detective
Ryan O’Clery, investigating a string of murders identical to those Kelly had
been investigating—and Ryan discovers his nightmares are actually the memories
of his ancestor. He, too, is transformed as he must face inner demons that have
haunted him since childhood.
In A Thin Slice of Heaven,
we encounter another type of trauma that leads our hero on her journey.
Charleigh arrives at a remote castle in Northern Ireland anticipating a
romantic anniversary celebration when she receives a text from her husband
telling her he is leaving her for another woman. Stranded at the castle, she first
wallows in her grief before pulling herself together and moving on—and in the
process, discovering things about herself.
Great books thrive on conflict: they move the plot forward,
they keep readers guessing at the outcome, and they ultimately change the main
characters forever. A great book leaves you feeling like you know the main
character as if he or she were a close friend; long after you’ve closed that
last page, you find yourself thinking of them.
It was like that for me as I
read The Girl from Ballymor by Kathleen McGurl, the haunting story of a young
woman experiencing the Irish Potato Famine in the late 1840’s. Kitty McCarthy
had six children by the age of 30 and within a three-year span had lost her
husband to a copper mine accident and five children to famine and disease. I
found myself awakening during the night thinking of her life and how similar it
must have been to thousands of Irish.
A life-transforming journey not only changes the main
character but also has the ability to change the reader, our views of history
and our world, and of mankind—where we came from and where we are heading.
Join the discussion on my Facebook page. Let me
know which books and characters that have remained with you over the years, and
their life-transforming journeys.
Pictures of staged crime scene and Ireland courtesy of FreeImages.com.
