Monday, December 15, 2014

Sir Buffalo MacLeod

So . . .
In a moment of weakness I bought a Scottish Terrier puppy.
And really, with a face like this, can you blame me?
Meet Sir Buffalo MacLeod . . .
or Mack for short.

Friday, December 12, 2014

Your question about "Stone Faced Angel" answered!

How did Maura adapt so quickly to modern life?

Excellent question! 
I mean, if I was reading the book I would be wondering the same thing.
And it would nag at me.
Which is totally unfair.

Now, there are some specifics to that question which will be addressed in book two, Stone Crossed Angel, so I will leave those out for now. That, however, doesn't mean we can't have some insight now. 

Think of angels, any way that you see angels. They can have wings, fly through the air, play the harp, and have golden halos if you'd like, it really doesn't matter . . . this is your vision. Okay now, let's say that your angel had taken a particular interest in you, even going so far as to say that angel was your guardian angel. (This doesn't mean Maura was Brandon's guardian angel, FYI, this is just to get you thinking and see my train of thought where angels are concerned) Now with this angelic interest, don't you think your angel would be seeing you in relation to the world around you? For example, if they were to see you driving a car, they might not have experienced a car in their lifetime, but they'd come to understand what it was, right? 

Okay, okay, so take that information, and place it within Maura. She doesn't remember specifics of her life before she walks out of Bonaventure Cemetery that stormy night, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't find her surroundings familiar in a sense - or at least have an unspoken understanding of what things are, how they work, and of course, how people talk. 

Know what I mean? 

I hope that helps! 

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Sorrow Untold - opening poem (Take II)

Let's try this again . . . 

It's been nagging and nagging at me, 
Something was missing from the opening poem for Sorrow Untold.

So I added a line and reformatted . . .
and dare I say it?
I think I've got it right.

If not, well, I suppose we'll be getting another blog post about it.

~ ~ ~

Sorrow Untold
Sorrow creeps within my veins
It holds me down beneath the waves

An infinite longing for your touch
Whispered pain I’ll forever laud

Collapsed and aching, my riven heart beats
Matter to the ghost of deceptive peace

Endlessly I’ll wait, cold and withdrawn—
But you, My Love, are still gone.

                                   Marie McKean
                                   © 2014 Marie McKean


Friday, December 5, 2014

'Sorrow Untold' opening poem

The wording for the opening poem of Sorrow Untold came to me in the wee hours of this morning. 

Want to see it?

Of course you do!

As I've mentioned before, this book is one that is going to hurt, bad, to write. 
But, it is still a story that needs to be told. 
It will be set in New England a few years prior to the Salem witch trials . . . 
I think that should give you an idea of what its going to be about. 
I'll not say anything more just yet.


Sorrow Untold

"Sorrow creeps within my veins
It holds me down beneath the waves

An infinite longing for your touch
Whispered pain I’ll forever laud

Collapsed and aching 
My riven heart beats

Endlessly I’m waiting
cold and withdrawn—

But you, My Love,
Are still gone." 

- Marie McKean
     © 2014 Marie McKean


Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Trolling the Aisles

I don't know if you've noticed,
but its that time of year again.

Yeah, its snowing - that is actually something I really love.
True, Thanksgiving is a mere two days away which means lots of food and more importantly, pie.
And, of course, Christmas is just around the corner. 

I know, I know, it's a very happy time of year.

But you know what I look forward to all year?
No.
I'll give you a hint . . .
All of those things listed above are signs of what's to come.
Still don't know???

Oreos, friends.
Winter Oreos.
The ones that are full of red, delicious, and delightful frosting.
I anxiously await their arrival, trolling through the supermarket aisles in search of their magic November 1st. 

They're here now, just so you know.

This means that you should all rush out and get some. 
Some have called me crazy, but I'm convinced the red frosting makes Oreos taste so much better. 
Seriously.
Cold glass of milk, a few Winter Oreos . . . winter evenings are made pretty awesome that way.