Fabulous and Brunette: When the Ocean Flies by Heather G. Marshall - Book Tour - Guest Post - Bonus Guest Post - Giveaway

When the Ocean Flies

by Heather G. Marshall

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GENRE: Women's Fiction

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BOOK BLURB:

An email from a stranger tells Alison Earley that her natural father, whom she has known for only six years, has died suddenly. What begins as a short trip back to Scotland for a funeral soon becomes a journey that puts adoption, sexuality, and identity on a collision course as Alison finds herself caught between the life and family she has so carefully constructed on one continent and the family from which she was taken on another.

Shunned by her father's family, reunited with her natural mother, and reconnected with a long-lost love, Alison finds herself trying to shepherd her youngest child towards college while questioning everything she thought she knew about herself.

When her natural mother uncovers a series of letters written to Alison from the grandmother she never knew, resurrecting stories of generations of women--stories long buried by patriarchal rule--Alison realizes that she must find the courage to face and reveal the secrets of her own past. At what cost, though? And who and what will be left in the aftermath?

When the Ocean Flies explores the pain of separation and abuse, and the power of love to heal even over huge gaps in time and geographical distance.

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EXCERPT TWO:

Strange to think I’ve been walking this earth, turning face to sky, swimming in the waters for over three quarters of a century. So much has changed, and yet, so little. Women gained the right to vote just before I arrived in this life. We went out in droves to do the work our men had done while they went off to fight the Germans. And then we returned to our homes and our children, expected to return to the way things had always been. That’s what they say—it has always been that way. But I know, and you do as well, that it hasn’t always. Still, we returned to a way of life that denied women like Mary their right to claim their own child unless they had the benefit of a man’s ring on their hand.

Now, in the infancy of a new century, we find footing in a world built by the men who came before, still with much of our truth buried, fossils of the soul.

I did not fully realize how much of that I’d done to myself until after Hamish died. He was a good man. It wasn’t even conscious that I held myself in for him. I loved him. Did as I was told to do. After his death, though, I felt myself begin to unfurl. I returned to reading the cards, returned to reading the air and the sky. Began to find my voice in paint and canvas and here, on these pages.

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GUEST POST:

My Favorite Scene in This Book…

The scene that connects most directly to the title of the book, When the Ocean Flies, is one of my favorites. Alison, the protagonist, is four, and, on the surface, it’s a lovely scene with a grandpa and a granddaughter at the sea. Alison is adopted, though, and what has led to this scene it that the brother who was adopted four years after Alison has been taken back by his biological mother. In the aftermath, Alison’s adoptive mother has, to say the least, gone to pieces. It has all come to a head and Alison has been dropped off at Papa’s for the day. In addition, there’s this juxtaposition of the expectations of Alison’s dad, who wants her to be a good girl and be clean and tidy, whereas Papa encourages her to explore and get messy. These two forces will become an internal battle for Alison as she moves through her life. Here’s the scene:

“Papa lowered her down on the sand at the inlet, as he always did. She ran, on still-podgy legs, towards the sea. He did not call after her to be careful, or slow down, or stay clean—he never did. She hesitated at the edge, turning to see where he was. And then she bent, held her hands just above the waters, wanting to settle them into the gritty ground, to feel the pebbles and seaweed and sand. Dad liked everything spotless, though, so she hovered her hands and waited for the sea to come to her. When the waters arrived, she discovered that they still held a chill, giving her a marvelous tickle. She stepped back, imagining Dad there. Mind your shoes. Little girls don’t get dirty.

When Papa arrived beside her, he produced his handkerchief, waving it. “Do whatever you like. We’ll get all tidied before I take you back.”

She extended her hands, submerged them.

She hunched there so long that the sea stopped coming up to greet her hand, as though it had decided to visit the islands across the waters instead. She wrinkled her nose, looked up at Papa.

“What is it?” he asked.

“The sea. Where is it going?”

“It’s the tide.”

“Tide?”

“Yes. The sea goes out.”

She lifted her chin, almost like a little fox, smelling for treachery. “Where does it go?”

He told her the earth was a ball; he said words she did not understand: gravity, the forces that hold them on the earth and the forces, unseen, that pull the seas in different directions. As he talked, her brow wrinkled. Her chin lifted higher. Fairy tales made much more sense. He kept going, trying. “The earth is a sphere,” he said, making it more confusing.

“The moon pulls the tides.”

“The moon?”

“The moon.”

“Up the sky?”

“Aye. The moon in the sky.”

She looked up. The sun was there. She had seen the moon, of course, following them home at night, and through the gap in the curtains in her room. God was there as well. That’s what the ladies in the creche had said. God was up there in the sky, seeing everything. She liked the moon better.

A gull called, overhead. It landed on the water, dove, went fully under, disappeared and then came up further away, took off again, flew away and away, into the distance. It disappeared.

“The sea flies away where we can’t see it,” she said. “To the moon?”

Papa laughed. “You might say.”

“Will it fly back?”

“Always.”

For a long time, he would retain a frisson of guilt that he had led his granddaughter to believe in flying seas. It was the best he could sort out, though. By the end of these afternoons, though he loved them, he could do with a whisky. He checked his watch. He sighed. He looked down at her, sinking her hand into the sand again. Five o’clock somewhere.

“That’s enough flying sea for one day. What about an ice cream?”

They made their way back down the front, singing ‘I scream-you scream-we all scream for ice cream.’

He hesitated just before he handed the ice cream to her. “Oor wee secret?” He did this every time, even years later, when she would come back to him as a teen.

She nodded.

“I know the perfect place for us to eat it.”

Elsie, behind the bar of The Sheiling, shook her head when they came in. This, too, happened every time. “Malcolm Ritchie,” she smirked. “You’re a naughty lad, as ever.” She nodded at Alison. “You’ll spoil that wee girl’s dinner.”

“Not naughty at all. Just a Papa and his favorite girl out for a bit of fun, which happens to mean going about things in a bit of a different order than some other people think is proper.”

Excerpt From

When the Ocean Flies

Heather G. Marshall

This material may be protected by copyright.

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BONUS GUEST POST:

The Craziest Thing I’ve Done in the Name of Research

Decades ago, I wrote a draft of a novel that will never see the light of day. In it, one of the characters plays her bagpipes at Graceland. I was curious to see if that could actually be done. I snuck my bagpipes into Graceland. By that, I mean that I took them out of their case and did the whole Graceland tour carrying them (they’re not small). When I got to the memorial gardens, I played. I’m sure it goes without saying that I didn’t play for long before they told me I had to stop (despite other visitors asking me to continue). Still, I had accomplished my research mission!

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AUTHOR BIO:

Heather G. Marshall is an adoptee, author, speaker, teacher, coach, and traveler. Her short fiction has been published in a variety of journals, including Black Middens: New Writing Scotland, and Quarried, an anthology of the best of three decades of Pine Mountain Sand & Gravel. Her first novel, The Thorn Tree, released in 2014 (MP Publishing). Her TED talk, “Letting Go of Expectations,” centers around her adoption and reunion. Her second novel, When the Ocean Flies, released in February 2024 (Vine Leaves Press). In her writing, Heather explores family, adoption, women (especially older ones), the natural environment, and how these intersect. When she isn’t writing, she likes to hike, travel, practice yoga and meditation, do a wee bit of knitting, and, of course, read. Originally from Scotland, Heather is currently based in Massachusetts.

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CONNECT WITH HEATHER:

Website:

https://heathergmarshall.com

Substack:

https://heathergmarshall.substack.com

Instagram:

https://www.instagram.com/heather_g_marshall

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/heather.marshall.3956

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