St. Paddy’s Day Fiction, Pagan Authors, and YOU.

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Photo by Devyn Leone Photography

It’s Irish History Month and Women’s History Month, so come join an Irish American writer (who also happens to be a woman) talk historical fiction, Irish folklore, and whatever else you want to know. And it’s on Facebook. So you don’t even need pants. Continue reading

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Tales of the Banshee

Good news for fans of Beneath Blair Mountain and darker tales of magic, the paranormal, and the Emerald Isle. I’m participating in an author takeover/online book party. Continue reading

Poetry Circle: The Troll that Shakes the Barley

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! In keeping with my last post about soda bread, here’s a poem that seemed fitting to share on such a holiday as this. This poem began quite randomly. A box of barley went missing in the apartment. Poof. Gone. I searched everywhere to no avail. As no one had eaten it and it’s not like someone would break in just to steal half a box of barley, I jokingly blamed the trolls. I’m a mythology major, I do that. Continue reading

Breaking Bread: A Mythology Major’s Musings on Culture, Gender, and Baked Goods

I decided to try my hands at soda bread this week, since I didn’t know what else to do for St. Patrick’s Day, except my yearly rant about all the things we get wrong about St. Patrick’s Day, how St. Patrick wasn’t even Irish, how nobody in America seems to know the Republic of Ireland from Northern Ireland or even Ireland from Scotland, and how St. Brigid was more important for most of Irish history anyway. I vote we all get together on St. Brigid’s Feast Day and eat butter. Lots of butter. So much butter.

But I’m really tired of harping on that every year. So, instead, I put on my Irish/Irish American folk music Pandora station and press-ganged my boyfriend into helping me make soda bread. Continue reading

No Gaeilge?

Last year’s St. Patrick’s Day post from my banned books blog is still every bit as relevant.

Bound and Gagged

To be honest, St. Patrick’s Day kind of stresses me out. Between the stereotypes, inaccuracies and downright falsehoods perpetuated about the Irish and the holiday itself, I end up feeling like I’m drowning in a sea of wrong. However, as I am merely an Irish American (and not all Irish at that) and do not speak the language (though I own several books on it in the eternal hope that I will remedy this), I end up feeling like the worst little pseudo-oppressed hipster when I try to correct or complain about anything, even if I have studied Irish history and mythology. And once danced in a Killarney pub with fellow Bound & Gagged banned books blogger, Hannah.

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