Going Irish

   There are two things that I am beyond a doubt. I am writer, and I'm Irish. I don't mean Irish in a "hey, my great-great-great-grandfather was from Ireland...I think the family name was Scapolini." way. I mean Irish in a "my grandparents are from Ireland and raised six VERY Irish children that attain accents when angry (or drunk)" way. I have always grown up in an Irish like environment. Family always coming and going, wakes filled with laughing, crying, and hidden alcohol (that's a whole other story), and the many evenings spent 'round a fireplace (or camp fire, or nightlight) listening to my dad tell folklore from the 'auld country'.

Looks like the story of the "Soul Cages" from the worried faces!

    And it was this very childhood and the stories in it that made me silently (or maybe not so silently) rage against the authors who defamed, twisted, and flat out misused the information and stories of the Irish pantheons and storytellers. So slowly, carefully, I crafted a story as only a child born of  a storyteller could. I decided to write a book using the true and accurate (to my knowledge and research) stories and folklore. I have always loved where my family came from, I was raised being told repeatedly by my father "Keely, your Irish".

      I didn't realize how true that statement was until I went to Ireland. In Southern California where fit bodies, sun tanned leather skin and Blond Hair in a Box rule, I am the odd duck out. I am pale with freckles (mostly gone, but I was really freckled as a child), brownish red hair, and curves that most girls pay heafty sums for here. But I am odd. So when I landed in Ireland and found that every one was as talkative as myself and could spin a story out of their life just like I always did,  it made me realize just how culturally 'Irish' my dad had raised me.

     I had come home. And if felt wonderful.

      So now I'm writing this book. I love it because I feel I can write the Good Folk of Ireland and all its glorious folktales and do it the justice and honesty it deserves. And a plot line hopefully worthy of the heroes of old. But for all of the little nuances that make me Irish, the simple fact that I wasn't raised there poses a problem when it comes to slang and dialect. My own cousins come from County Clare, and arrived in the 60's so other than gaining their accent, I don't know the slang. And I didn't know how Gaelic football (the MOST watched sport in Ireland, by the way) worked until I read the rules today for part of my story. Hell, its not even really going INTO the story, but  I need to know it for a character's sake.

      Writing is hard. Trying to find things out when you don't have a ton of friends from Ireland to help you with it is even harder. So for next two months despite my Irish heritage and upbringing, I must now GO IRISH. Its that or go home...or you know, to an Irish pub to nurse my wounds like any good Irish girl.