REMEMBER TRAVELING?
A TIME WE FREELY MOVED AROUND?
On a Face Book post a woman displayed my novel, The Skye in June.
The woman in pink holding up a copy of my first novel, The Skye in June,had hosted a book party for me and since a trip to Scotland was already planned decided she'd read the story there.
Her first stop was in Glasgow where the story begins for the MacDonald family (see excerpt below).
The last time I visited Scotland was 14 years ago with my husband who'd not been there beforehand.
The Unexpected Magic of Travel: One never knows what or who will be experienced.
Funny story...as we walked the main thorough way named Dumbarton Road of a district called Partick where I lived as a child before emigrating to San Francisco, we heard "JUNE! JUNE!" shouted out behind us.
Confused to who'd know we'd be there?
Turing around a cousin of mine raced toward us. She no longer lives in Glasgow bur had heard we were in own, although not any particular day nor time. She followed a "feeling" that if she went that day, at that time she'd meet me.
Is she "fey" like me? Can she see and know what others cannot? "Skye" is about a young girl who is fey as a gypsy character reveals.
"Skye" is a historical story set mostly in San Francisco, California but begins in Glasgow. It's about a family who emigrates after a family tragedy in the 1950s and how they change over time. The a poignant story often hilarious with tactics the sisters take to deter their father control especially as the early days of the 1960s threatened to implode them.
A review: Not since author Amy Tan's early writings has a woman's voice so strongly resonated from one of San Francisco's most famous neighborhoods. - Jim Toland, author, Fire and Fog and In and Out of Ireland
Enjoy an excerpt from the opening chapter.
Glasgow, Scotland
May 31, 1950
The rain drizzling down the windows of the taxi shrouded the riders inside. Cathy MacDonald, the sole passenger, leaned her head against the misted window. She was bound for St. Andrew's Infirmary to deliver yet another wean.
Her fingers dug into her seat as she readjusted her bulky body. No position seemed to bring relief to her discomfort. She let her head fall forward onto the back of the driver's seat.
“Does he have to hit every bloody stone in the road?” she muttered under her breath as the taxi bumped along.
“Don't you worry, Missus. I'll get you there in time. “The rough sandpaper voice of the taxi driver startled her, and she wondered if he had heard her question. “I know all about how fast those weans want out. Got six bairns of my own,” he said laughing loudly.
Cathy didn’t dare tell him that her labor pains were coming very close together and that this might be the first time that a baby would be born in his taxi.
“Your man's Jimmy MacDonald, right?” he inquired.
His talking only irritated her, but not wanting to appear unfriendly she tried to focus on what he had asked. Her response came as a muffled sound that could have been an answer or a retreat from the question. She caught him peeking a glance at her in the rearview mirror. She braced herself for the next question, knowing what it would be.
“You Mr. B's daughter?” The driver, along with so many others in Glasgow, deeply respected Willie Buchanan, or Mr. B, as he had been known for as far back as anyone could remember. Mr. B had earned a reputation for being a fair man. Years ago he had rallied a group of well-off citizens to provide funds to support youth soccer teams for the town's underprivileged children. He had insisted that the money be shared equally between Catholic and Protestant teams-–an unusual act, since prejudice between the two religious groups was still very intense in Scotland. Although some people protested, most citizens supported his efforts.
The taxi swerved sharply to avoid a pile of building rubble. Cathy moaned in protest, which made the driver wish her husband was there to help with the situation.
“Where's Jimmy?” he asked.
“Working,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper.
She fell away from the driver's seat and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath in and then blew out sharply as jolting cramps came one after another. If Jimmy hadn't been so worried about getting to his second job, he could've been with me. He'd tell the driver to slow down, Cathy thought. She didn't want this ride to be over too quickly. She wasn't ready to walk up the four broad stone steps to St. Andrew's Infirmary to lie on a bed under a sheet, waiting. Not wanting to sound demanding, she stopped short of asking the driver to slow down. Instead she moved her hands over her belly and whispered hoarsely, “Wait, wee one. Just a bit longer.”
Read more about The Skye in June and my other books at june ahern DOT com.
#Isle of Skye #historicalnovels #psychickids #storiesaboutScotland #immigrantsories
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