#pat o'shea

[julesofnature]

“There’s always a lot of magic, but our way of seeing is very small and we mostly just call it Nature. Why, we are not at all surprised that we can pick an apple in the autumn that was a pink flower in the spring. That’s natural magic and we don’t really notice it.”

~ Pat O’Shea

[bibliophilecats]

September 06 2024: Read a Book Day

[morgan--reads]

Summary: Pidge and his sister Brigit are called on a quest to thwart the witch queen Mórrígan. As they journey throughout versions of Ireland both mystical and real, they are trailed by the queen’s hounds, who are never far behind.  

Quote: “Don’t look for it—find it. Don’t search for it—come to it. This is the best and the oldest way, for maps can be read by many eyes and maps can’t show the crooked path of sensing.”

My rating: 4.0/5.0   Goodreads: 4.05/5.0 

Review: One of those children’s books that conveys an equal sense of danger and wonder. The dialog is witty, the moments of beauty are profound, and the children charming. The ever-present threat of the hounds is equally real, however, as is the dark, adult menace of the Mórrígan. The journey the children undertake across Ireland is epic, but the ultimate feel of the book is cozy, with a strong sense that good will triumph over evil. The good they are fighting for is less an abstract concept and more about the kindness of strangers, the love of good friends, and a respect for nature.

[lindensea]

Reading The Hounds of the Morrigan, and if anything happens to Cooroo or the Great Elk I won't be able to take it

[kikiskitchenwitchery]

My current read.

Friends, do me a favor. Go look up the new cover and tell me the vibe that gives.

This cover gives ethereal slightly spooky fae vibes. The new cover gives feral trickster fae.

I have owned this in its first paperback edition for a while. I found it in one of my romps through a thrift store.

I shall keep you posted.

[infinitedonut]

“There’s always a lot of magic, but our way of seeing is very small and we mostly just call it Nature.” - Pat O’Shea

[maldreathezora]

Let's Read: The Hounds of the Morrigan, by Pat O'Shea. Prologue

[erstwhile-punk-guerito]

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Wherever I rest my head is home if it's with you

Part 2, At first sight

Masterlist Word count: 2 k Charles Smith x Fem!Reader Arthur Morgan x Mary Linton John Marston x Abigail Roberts Dutch Van der Linde x Molly O'Shea Mary-Beth Gaskill x Kieran Duffy

Summary: Looking for gold is a men's world in a town run by women. The amounts of violence and suffering these men go through with the hope of getting rich is insanity. Gold fever broke marriages and relationships alike until the settlement was nearly all women.  It's a small settlement, nearly a small town, next to the Elysian Pool. Most men red hot with gold fever pass through to stock up on supplies before heading down to the mines near Beaver's Hallow or Annesburg.  The settlement has only one law set in stone, as lawmen do not want to come there, and it is praised like it was one of the ten commandments. You do not harm the women.

Preview

Stupidly adorable. That was the first thing that came to Abigail's mind when she saw the scarred man standing in front of Sadie's porch. He had looked up at her like she was made of stardust, like she was more valuable and marvellous than anything else in the whole wide world. To her, he looked like a fool but an awfully likable one. One that could probably make her laugh.  On the ride to the tailer, he stumbled over his words and desperate attempts to flirt flung off his lips like he had rehearsed them a million times in his head. She heard herself giggling, a sound so unfamiliar to her but she can't help it. Now that he stands in front of her, getting his measurement taken by miss Tilly Jackson, looking as awkward as one can be, she can only feel a glow on her cheeks.  That's when Mary-Beth barrels in with some shirts for John to try. Tilly had been too caught up in measuring him up to notice Abigail's glowing cheeks, but Mary-Beth surely isn't. She had noticed the tension the second Abigail walked in.  Truth be told, Mary-Beth was only here to loiter around. Sadie had asked her to draft some political letter to send out to the Indians up north. She wants to help them, but Mary-Beth just couldn't find the proper words to use so she decided to take a walk and her walks always end at Tilly's tailor shop. Now that she's seen Abigail, she does have inspiration but not for what she was supposed to write. No, this is inspiration for one of her romance novels. A grumpy outlaw and a stubborn lady, what a story.  'Shut it,' Abigail sneers at her before she can start awing about the whole situation. Tilly turns and notices what is happening. A smile spreads on her face as she shakes her head in amusement. John, awfully unaware of the whole situation, gets the feeling they're laughing at him.  'I'm heading out, Tilly. I'll see you tonight. Abigail, are you and Lucky coming too?' She lies the shirts down on the counter and walks past Abigail and Tilly.  'We might,' Abigail grumbles as she crosses her arms in front of her chest tightly. Mary-Beth slips through the door and Abigail already knows where she's headed. If Mary-Beth finds gossip, Lucky is the first one to know.  'What is happening tonight,' John questions.  'That is for us to know and for you to find out,' Tilly says as she pats him on the shoulder, 'you can relax. Try these shirts in the back.' She shoves the stack of shirts in his hands as he turns around to look at Abigail once more.  'Thank you, miss Jackson,' he says, but he's not looking at Tilly. Abigail feels her cheeks heating up.  'No worries.' With one last look over his shoulder, John disappears into the changing room. Tilly turns to Abigail with a cheeky grin.  'You've got it bad,' she whispers.  'I know,' Abigail groans quietly, 'and he's a real fool too.'  'A handsome fool.'  'That he is,' Abigail admits with a sigh. 

[bluespring864]

Ask Game

A big thank you to @sleepstxtic for the tag! <3 I woke up way too early so now I have something to do :)

Three Ships: This is hopefully the only pretentious thing I'll say about my writing: I'm a writer, not a shipper. I write everything I'll find a story for and read everything that sounds interesting. Let's pick three at random: Spock/McCoy (because it's a classic), Aryna/Iga (because I love that WiP on AO3) and Novandy (because that's probably the closest I've come to shipping)

First Ever Ship: So I'm not quite sure but I think it may have been Colbert/Stewart in the Fake News fandom. Or Thiel/Boerne in the German Tatort fandom. Or Kirk/Spock. My memory is terrible, but those were among the first.

Last Song: I listened to a live album by the 3 biggest German chansonniers/songwriters. Wader/Wecker/Mey - Das Konzert. The last song on that is Wer weiß, a translation of Auld Lang Syne.

Last Film: I rarely watch films, these days. I think it may have been the latest Tatort episode with Thiel and Boerne (it's a German crime/detective series, but each episode is a 90 minute made for TV film) and before that I can't remember. Everything everywhere all at once is on my watch list though.

Currently Reading: I probably gave that answer months ago, but I'm still very slowly reading Die Blendung by Elias Canetti. It's a fascinating book about a very peculiar scholar and about books, but it's introspective and sometimes philosophical and best read in small doses in my opinion. I have read other stuff in between, of course, e.g. i reread The Hounds of the Morrigan by Pat O'Shea which I loved as a teenager, but Die Blendung is probably the most interesting one (English title: Auto da Fé).

Currently Consuming: Nothing, though I'll make tea soon. It's early.

Currently Craving: Some sunshine.

Tagging: @kingfisherprince, @keinbutterdieb, @the7endless, @thotstochter, @alwayshappyhoursomewhere, @all-my-worlds-a-stage, @bonos-grindcore-sideproject, @savageandwise, @schumi-nadal, @shambolicchaos, @purblind-dragon if you want to do it! Otherwise feel free to ignore :)

[tonibeltran]

x. status -> closed for @leonwozniak x. location -> o'shea's

There are probably better places to write than a bar, but the grandiosity of his house has started taunting him in its silence, and truth be told, he’s not looking to win a Pulitzer, here. The song he’s been tasked to help write is for one of the pop artists he’s written for before — he knows her voice down pat by now, could probably write for her in his sleep. That doesn’t necessarily mean writing while drunk is a good idea, but that’s the only way Antonio can write nowadays: truly, deeply, stupidly drunk. 

The artist sent over some song about therapy and antidepressants, which he supposes is all the rage with the younger generation nowadays (or something?) and with some heavy editing, he’s managed to boil a lot of it down to lyrics that can keep steady with the 108 BPM she’d asked for. He’ll have to convince her to change the key to G major, of course, but that should be easy enough. She’s good for it, he thinks. 

He’s having trouble with some of the chorus, though. She’d insisted symptomatic be the last word on the downbeat, which, fine, that’s the title of the song, but rhyming anything sensical with symptomatic is proving near-impossible in this state. He doesn’t think he’d get it even if he weren’t drunk, actually, but mostly then it’d be because he’d be miserable about this, and not because he can’t think of anything profound to say before fucking symptomatic.

It’s not poetry, he reminds himself. It’s barely prose. He’s just gotta get something down, right? She relies mostly on the production of her songs to elicit an emotional response, after all, so he could very well skip the rhyme altogether and she’d probably be fine with it. Probably. Probably not, though. He sighs, rubbing at his temple in frustration. Looking up, his gaze finds Leon nearby, keeping himself busy behind the bar. Antonio’s been in this bar enough times so that they’ve exchanged names and a couple of conversations already — he’s quick to befriend bartenders he likes, as he assumes he’ll be seeing them more often than not. And Leon’s easy to like, despite his disposition coming off a bit prickly at first. Antonio’s also not immune to the man’s looks — he’s only human. He’s sure that at least some of the regulars around here come by so often just to get a peek at him. And he can’t exactly blame them.

It’s probably this prepubescent instinct in him that encourages him to call for Leon’s attention by balling up one of the napkins beside his drink and throwing it at him. “Hey,” he calls at him, gesturing with his head for him to come closer. His lips twitch upward in a small smile. “Can you rhyme?”

[themissing-linc]

who: Linc & open! ( @bluestarters ) what: Linc & Leon's Birthday Extravaganza! where: O'Shea's Irish Pub

It was a good day already, barely past eight and Linc had downed.... three, maybe four pints. He was doing his best to play a good host, saying hello to everyone and not staying in one place too long. The turnout was better than he'd expected from a last-minute, distinctly informal text... but that was sort of the Weaver Ridge way. It was a tradition now-- to gather at O'Shea's in between Linc and Leon's birthday (never on Leon's birthday, of course), and drink until they had to stumble home serenaded by the cicada song.

Though it was usually bad form to take a beer outside, Linc had negotiated a pass for his smoke breaks. It was much worse, he figured, to smoke without his beer than it was to potentially get Leon in trouble about the liquor license. Leaning against the patio railing, Linc took a swig of the glass bottle and balanced his cigarette between two fingers. "Oh, hey!" he called to the familiar face turning towards O'Shea's. "I'm so glad you could make it, this is amazing!" Without a second thought, he threw an arm around their neck in a warm greeting.

Linc's typical reserved nature gave way to a more self-assured enthusiasm when he was a couple drinks in, and he was feeling sappy about how many people had come out to celebrate with him and Leon. It didn't matter who they came for-- or if they were a relative stranger. Tonight, they were family. "I will warn you, CJ was playing darts when I left," Linc said, grin reaching his eyes. "So.... duck?" He patted the railing next to him, "Or join me for a second, if you want."

[bibliophilecats]

Great middle grade fantasy set in Ireland. Highly recommend.

[byneddiedingo]

Leonard Whiting and Olivia Hussey in Romeo and Juliet (Franco Zeffirelli, 1968)

Cast: Leonard Whiting, Olivia Hussey, John McEnery, Milo O'Shea, Pat Haywood, Robert Stephens, Michael York, Bruce Robinson. Screenplay: Franco Brusati, Masolino D'Amico, Franco Zeffirelli, based on a play by William Shakespeare. Cinematography: Pasqualino De Santis. Production design: Lorenzo Mongiardino. Film editing: Reginald Mills. Music: Nino Rota.

This is prime Zeffirelli, when he was attracting attention for not only movies but also operas with lavish sets and traditional costumes. His style has fallen out of favor now: Both moviegoers and opera lovers now want a fresh point of view on the classics. His 1998 production of La Traviata at the Metropolitan Opera was replaced in 2011 by the minimalist Willy Decker production whose action took place on a large clock face. And in 1996, Baz Luhrmann's movie Romeo + Juliet set the story of the star-crossed lovers in the fictional, gang warfare-riddled town of Verona Beach. But Zeffirelli's 1968 version of Romeo and Juliet remains fresh, largely because it is one of the few Shakespeare plays that lend themselves to movies: It has as much passionate romance and lively action as a moviegoer could want, and if you throw in a little discreet nudity, as Zeffirelli did, what's not to like?* Well, it could be a little more respectful to Shakespeare's verse, large chunks of which are cut for the sake of lively, breathtaking swordfights. Gone, for example, is Juliet's rapturous soliloquy in Act III, Scene II:

Come, gentle night, come, loving black-brow'd night, Give me my Romeo, and, when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.

And when Juliet is preparing to drink the potion that will simulate death, we get none of her terrors of being sealed in the Capulet tomb. Zeffirelli's version is a safe compromise between the too-reverent George Cukor production for MGM in 1936, and Luhrmann's souped up modern version, but Leonard Whiting and Olivia Hussey are preferable to the aging Norma Shearer and Leslie Howard, and they handle the verse better than Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes did in Luhrmann's film. One thing the Zeffirelli film also has going for it is Nino Rota's score, which grew over-familiar when it became a best-selling LP but is still evocative today. And there are some good actors in the cast, including Michael York's Tybalt, Pat Heywood's Nurse, and Milo O'Shea's Friar Lawrence, not to mention Laurence Olivier's uncredited narrator. (Olivier also supplied the voice for the Italian actor playing Montague.)

*Whiting and Hussey later found something not to like about the nudity, and filed suit in 2022, saying that they were underage at the time of the filming and had been tricked by Zeffirelli into the nude scene. The suit was dismissed, but they have said they would appeal the decision.

[thedeadbelle]

"Hounds of the Morrigan"

Kinuko Y Craft

Oil on Board

20 3/4" x 12 1/2"

The cover to "The Hounds of the Morrigan" by Pat O'Shea

Harper Trophy/Harper Collins

1999

[clairepesca]

46

46: I tuoi 3 libri preferiti!

1- Il figlio del cimitero, Neil Gaiman

2- La pietra del vecchio pescatore, Pat O'Shea

3- La luna e i falò, Cesare Pavese

Per ora sono questi 3❤️ più avanti chissà