I just completed my first blog tour. What an experience! Thirteen bloggers over ten days featured Kelegeen with either a spotlight, excerpt, review, guest post, author interview, or what turned out to be my favorite, a character guest post. That's right - twice a character from Kelegeen got the chance to step out of the book and speak their own minds. I had never written a character blog post before, but now that I know how much fun it is, I will be doing many more of them.
My first thought was to let Meg and Father O'Malley "write" the two character guest posts since they are the point of view characters in the novel. I quickly rejected that idea because, well, they are the point of view characters. They've been telling the story, so to speak, throughout the whole book. Why not give two other characters a chance?
My choices? Meg's mother, Deirdre O'Connor and Siobhan O'Toole, Father O'Malley's first love from long before he became a priest. Deirdre, being the wonderful mom that she is, took the opportunity to write about her family, giving a mother's glimpse into each of her kids.
Siobhan is a different character all together. Here is what she had to say:
My name is
Siobhan O'Toole and I've been asked to regale you with tales of my
part in the story of Kelegeen. You'll not believe it, but I've
never stepped foot in the town of Kelegeen. As it happens, I'm not
even alive when the story takes place, but that doesn't stop me from
having a role in it. You see, I was in love, long before that story
began, with a man named Brian O'Malley. In Kelegeen
you'll know him as Father O'Malley, but his priestly vocation came
after I died. Oh, he's a good priest, he is. Faithful, devout,
completely committed to God and his parishioners. He'd have been just
as good a husband and father had I lived long enough for us to marry
and give him wee ones. We were everything to each other. That's why I
couldn't leave him even after I'd died.
You'll
be more comfortable calling him “Father” after you've read the
book, no doubt, but to me he'll always be Brian, so don't think I'm
showing disrespect by calling him by his Christian name.
Brian
and I met one night when I was playing the fiddle for my brothers who
were dancing up a storm. He thought himself bewitched at first sight
of me. I can't say I blame him, what with my long, tangled red hair
flashing in the moonlight, me hopping about on a rock while I played
a rollicking tune. He came and asked me to dance, so I gave the
fiddle to my brother, Quentin, and we danced. From that moment on we
were inseparable.
I
think Brian was intrigued by the stories, legends really, that he'd
heard about my family. The best one being that I had an ancestor who
was one of the good people – what you folk would call a fairy.
Quentin, being the mischievous sort, told him I was one, as well. He
asked me if it was true. He made out like he was only teasing, but I
could tell a small part of him actually wondered. I had a grand time
with that, I can tell you! I never did give him a proper answer. He
may have gone his whole life wondering after it for all I know.
We
planned to wed, but it wasn't to be. I'll let the story of Kelegeen
explain what happened to me and how it led him into the priesthood.
Aye, but the ways of God are mysterious indeed.
When
you love someone with all your heart and they love you as much, even
death does not fully part you. That's how it was for Brian and me. He
talked to me often throughout his life. At times, he believed he felt
me with him. Sure enough, he was right. I was always at his side.
Always, that is, until he sent me away. But that he did for a noble
reason – a reason of selfless giving. He would sacrifice anything
for any one of his people including my cherished presence. How could
I not love him all the more for that? How could I not do what he
asked of me?
