I’m an Irish writer. I knew that obviously! I’d just never given it any thought – at least not until the very lovely book blogger, Linda Hill, invited me to write about that very subject on her blog, Linda’s Book Bag. And it really made me think.
Here’s a little snippet:
When Linda – kindly – invited me to do a guest post she said:
‘I feel there is something very special about the literature that comes out of Ireland. Is it the sense of community there? Is it the legacy of great Irish writers? Is there a history, culture and tradition of tale-telling? Is there something about the Blarney Stone tradition tied up with the concept of narrative perhaps? Is it the rain which means finding indoor pursuits is a necessary evil? Are the Irish obsessed with stories?’
I blame the rain – for everything. The End.
OK, that wasn’t the end. It was the beginning. And you can read my – actually very considered – answers on Linda’s blog – because I’d like you to visit it! It’s a great blog. Just click: here.
And huge thanks to Linda for really making me think about what it means to be Irish and writing.