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(pronounced Ko-Hane)
Dan is the Bram Stoker-nominated author of Plague of Darkness, Solomon’s Grave, and the critically-acclaimed Margaret's Ark. Writing as G. Daniel Gunn, he released Destroyer of Worlds and the novella (written with L.L.Soares) Nightmare in Greasepaint (Samhain Publishing),. His short stories have appeared in Cemetery Dance, Shroud Magazine, Apex Digest and many more. He and his family live in New England.

Monday, October 02, 2017

Reflections on Last Month's MS Walk from my Brother Paul


From Paul Keohane:

Hi, everyone –

Before time gets away from me, I wanted to be sure to write to all of you about this year’s MS Walk.   The weather could not have been any better all three days – warm but not too sunny or humid.  Anne and I were like a well-oiled machine this year as we sped along the streets and bike paths of the Cape, finishing each day earlier than we had ever before.  Also, beyond the usual barking of a body about to turn fifty, physically I felt better than expected. 

As I reflect upon my 15th year participating in this event, one emotion in particular hits home more than any other.

Love can lighten any load
I spoke with a man who currently serves in the military and was walking fifty miles for his wife.  He said that when his wife was initially diagnosed, he was deployed overseas so was not able to be by her side.  When he returned home several months later, he came back to a wife whose day-to-day struggles were beyond what he could imagine.  He felt powerless as he saw fatigue continue to overwhelm her.  As I spoke to him, I noticed that he was wearing combat boots and, on his back, he carried a 35-pound pack.  He said that if he couldn’t take the MS away from her, he could at least partially understand the exhaustion that she feels as a result of it.   As he slowly crossed the finish line each day – long after every other walker – he felt that much closer to her.  And his love for her grew that much more.

I love my sister
I hate MS.   I hate the impact that MS has had on my sister.  And, although I hate the fact that an MS Challenge walk event is needed, there are many things that I love about it.  I love being inspired by Anne’s courage and determination.  I love the smiles and jokes that she has for everyone we meet along the route.  I love that she always makes it a point to thank people for participating.  Most of all, I love the time that this event allows us to share together.  Over four days, 200 miles of driving and 50 miles of Cape Cod roads and bike paths, we are each other’s captive audience.  You’d think we would run out of things to talk about but we never do.   I cherish all that time we spend together and it makes me love her even more.

Generosity and love have no expiration date
Being that this year Anne and I were a team of two, I lowered our fundraising goal – but still left it at an optimistic $5,000.   That’s a high number for such a small team but I was hopeful we would come at least somewhat close to reaching it.  I knew that this was my 15th year asking many of you for help.  That’s a long time to ask for support.   So I was prepared for maybe a little letup in donations.  But, once again, I was blown away by your generosity.   Not only did you help us reach that lofty goal but you shattered it.  All in all, donations came in at a staggering $7,200!  

As always, I cannot thank you all enough.     

-       Paul

Monday, September 25, 2017

KINGSMAN: THE GOLDEN CIRCLE (2017) Review Now Showing!

My review of the hilarious and very entertaining spyfest KINGSMAN: THE GOLDEN CIRCLE (2017) is now showing at Cinema Knife Fight. Check it out, and see if you agree, here.

Monday, September 04, 2017

"A Life Unremembered" Now Available in Necon Anthology

So I am way behind posting this (was stalling, waiting for them to publish the kindle version, but it looks like it's not going to be here for a while - print only for now)

There is no greater horror in the world than watching a loved one battle cancer ... especially if that loved one is a child. But we are not powerless against this disease, and some of the world’s finest purveyors of nightmares have come together to fight a monster far scarier than anything they could ever dream up. Necon E-Books is honored to present
an anthology of horror bedtime stories from which 100% of all proceeds will be donated to 
The Jimmy Fund.
Edited by P.D. Cacek and Laura J. Hickman and featuring cover artwork by Cortney Skinner, this anthology contains contributions from the incredible roster listed in the Table of Contents, all of whom have donated their work in support of this essential cause. Available exclusively on Amazon.com in trade paperbacks and digital editions, please join us in this fight by purchasing your copy today. And in the words of our friends and partners at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, “Thank you for helping us conquer cancer.”

Table of Contents: 
Foreword by Christopher Golden 
Mother and Daughter by Jack Ketchum
Messages by Errick A. Nunnally
Sleepless by Mark Steensland
The Vacant Lot by Thomas Tessier
blood, cold like ice by Doungjai Gam 
A Life Unremembered by G. Daniel Gunn
Wired by Elizabeth Massie 
Blue Stars by Tony Tremblay
Happy Now Mother? by John Buja 
Nina by John M. McIlveen
Housing the Hollygobs by Marianne Halbert
Inertia Creeps by Charles Colyott
Leave Here Alive by Bracken MacLeod
Sleep Well by Angi Shearstone
The Fine Art of Madness by Gary Frank 
The Beach by Cara M. Colyott
Angel Tears by Jill Bauman
Darkness on the Edge of Town by James A. Moore
Would You, Could You, In the Dark? by Craig Wolf
Wishing Won’t by Richard Dansky
The Phobia Where You’re Afraid of Words by Paul McMahon
Nightly Rituals by William Carl
White Wings by Mark Morris
The Other Side by Paul McNally
Truth or Dare? by Bev Vincent
Unexpected Attraction by Matthew Matt Costello
The Ritual Remains by Jonathan Lees
The End of All Stories by Trevor Firetog
Duality by Brian Keene
The Lake Children by Izzy Lee
The Circus Under the Bed by T.J. Wooldridge 
1-2-3 Red Light by Gregory L. Norris 
The Old Men Know by Charles L. Grant 
The Oldest Fear by Shikar Dixit
Afterword by Matt Bechtel
Cover art by Cortney Skinner

Monday, August 28, 2017

2017 Wheels and Heels Against MS Walk!

From my brother Paul (and sister Anne):



Hi, everyone -

As we hit the mid-point of summer, the MS Challenge Walk is fast approaching.  Anne and I are officially signed up and ready to take on another 50 miles in our continuing fight to stamp out Multiple Sclerosis. 

On September 8th, we will team up again (our 12th year together as team Wheels and Heels – my 15th overall) for our three day journey.  Each year comes with its unique challenges, whether they be physical hurdles or just overcoming the heat, humidity or, one year, even a tropical storm.  Although the challenges vary, what remains the same is our steadfast determination to celebrate that day when MS is nothing but a memory.

Multiple Sclerosis is a frightening disease that affects the central nervous system.  The symptoms may be mild (such as numbness in the limbs) or severe enough to cause blindness or paralysis. The severity and specifics of the symptoms of MS can’t yet be predicted, but advances in research and treatment are giving hope to all affected by the disease.

This year Anne shared with me one such exciting treatment.  There is a brand new drug out called Ocrevus that she has just been cleared to begin.  This drug is the first of its kind that can dramatically slow the progression of MS in patients who have been diagnosed as Primary Progressive.  Although the drug is not a cure, it’s slowing of the disease not only gives one more control over their current symptoms but also allows that precious time to wait out the more advanced and reversing treatments that are now in the pipeline.  

Your donations to the National MS Society are the key to these exciting treatments.  We hope that you can continue to be a beacon of hope for all who battle this disease.  No donation is too small!  
   
As in the past, there are two ways you can donate.  

·         The fastest and most convenient way would be to click on my name or Anne’s at:


·         You can also mail a check, making it out to The National MS Society

Our addresses are:
                        Paul Keohane                         Anne Murphy 
                        2 Jillian Rose Dr                    13 Apache Way 
                        Oxford, MA 01540                Tewksbury, MA 01876

Thank you all so very much for your continued support!!
Paul

Friday, July 14, 2017

IT! THE TERROR FROM BEYOND SPACE Review

My review and analysis of the classic (and largely unknown yet influential) science fiction film IT! THE TERROR FROM BEYOND SPACE (1958) is now up at Cinema Knife Fight. Check it out, let me know what you think! 

Monday, July 03, 2017

50 Years With Rolled up Socks, or Three Strikes and I'm Out

Joe Keohane - my father, not my brother nor his son nor his son, it's a popular name in my clan - made an historic decision earlier this year. Fifty (might be fifty-one) years ago, when my oldest brother Joe was a kid, Dad did what most Dads are arm-twisted into doing: coach his little league baseball team. He also coached my younger brothers on the same team. Dad's team was the major league Twins (to educate: there's Pee-Wees, what we call the Instructional or Farm league these days, then the minor league, then majors, then beyond to the more advanced levels of baseball existence). When Joe graduated from the majors, Dad stayed with the team, coaching the following year. And the following. Fifty years later, nearing 89 years old, with baseball registration dwindling in town and the league's need to reduce the number of teams, Dad voluntarily stepped down from coaching.

He was a great coach, taking his team to the championship at least twenty times, if not more.

He wasn't an overly-aggressive coach, sitting quietly on the side by the dugout and - after having quit smoking decades before - sucking on rocks to keep himself focused (never swallowed any, as far as I know). He was a good teacher, rolling up hundreds of socks over the years into balls for batting practice (allowed the boys to swing hard without worrying about chasing balls all over the place), never bothering with memorizing signals - when Dad wanted one of his players to steal a base, he'd simply shout, "Steal!" Usually worked (never hurt that the normally quiet coach was suddenly yelling, throwing everyone off-focus, except his runner).

He loved coaching. You could tell. And he did this for so long, he eventually coached the sons of former players (and if I'm not mistaken an occasional grandson).

As an aside, I never made it to the majors. I dropped out of little league after my second year of Pee-Wees. With a perfect batting average (I never got a hit... well, that's philosophically not true, but I'll save that story for another time), baseball and I did not mix. Actually, sports and I did not mix (again, for another time).

In many ways, sports was how Dad related to and spent time with his kids. He wasn't just a coach for baseball, but also hockey with my uncle and godfather Ed Sullivan, and my brother, and my cousin after that.

But the annual summer run around the diamond was his specialty. And I only went to one game. I was eight (I'm always eight in my memories), no, probably younger, like four, sitting on the hill behind right field as the game progressed. Dad had to watch me, and I don't think I was allowed in the dugout for some reason (probably because I was four). I was bored, then scared, as the sun suddenly dropped below the horizon and I knew the darkness was going to swallow me whole. I'd be lost forever. I started crying and calling Dad and running over to him. There was a game on, and it took him quite some time to calm me down and explain that the sun had not set, but simply went behind a cloud. The sun came out soon after. I was not lost, but that strangely traumatic moment has been etched in my mind for four and a half decades.

In truth, Dad probably wasn't angry, he just has this deep, booming voice that my insecurity always interpreted as angry. Children with low self-esteem tend to miss the smiles on others.

I never went to another game, and likely was kept away so I wouldn't run onto the field (I might have done something like that, the memory is a little fuzzy). Around the end of college, nearly twenty years later, I told myself I would go to a game as an adult, really see what Dad did in these games, cheer the team on. Support him. Then it was after graduation, then marriage, and kids of my own, Cat's In the Cradle and all that. There was always something distracting me, making me lose track of time - until one day, last year, I remembered, wait! I want to go to Dad's game. I emailed him, and he explained that the season always ended before summer started. A fact I should probably have already known.

Oh. shoot. OK. Next year.

Three strikes, my son, my son. Hearing Dad announce his retirement was bittersweet. So proud of him, always have been. Hell, a few years back they even named the field on which he'd coached for half a century after him. It's called Joe Keohane Field now. I tell everyone about this, and make it a point to drive by when I'm in town so I can see the sign. But I knew: I waited too long. This isn't the only time I've put something off only to find, eventually, it's too late. Will the fact that my only memory of seeing Dad coach in fifty years is of me crying when I thought the sun had disappeared, change how the universe is spinning? No, only mine. Likely, when I'm dead, Jesus will sit me down in the movie theater of judgment, show this gap in the reel of my life and shake his head. 'Really?' he might say.

But, in the end, I have my words. I have this little universe of letters which I put together now and then to make something new, and though I never connected with Dad with a ball or bat or skate (dropped out of hockey camp, too), I can this way, With words. I regret, and always will, never focusing outside of my little world long enough to step back onto your field more often, Dad, but I've always, always been so proud of what you have done. You're a hero in many ways, to many people, not the least of which being me.

Looking forward to seeing what you do next.

Friday, June 30, 2017

Review for Transformers: The Last Knight (2017) Now Showing at Cinema Knife Fight

My review of the newly-released TRANSFORMERS: THE LAST KNIGHT (2017) is now showing at Cinema Knife Fight. Heck, even the review was a bit chaotic, trying to cover as much as possible. Because one thing I can say, there's a lot of stuff happening in this one. Not all bad, mind you, but.... anyway, see what I have to say here. Don't usually pan many films, but this one, as I say early, was a train wreck. Not all bad, but... see what I have to say and if you agree.