Fear the Drowning Deep
Page 25
Pocketing the pearl, I grabbed a paddle and settled into place on my side of the boat, eyes on the horizon. “Let’s keep fishing.”
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
When I think of a place where magic could exist among the everyday, where the glimmer of a fairy’s wing could be mistaken for a flash of sun in your eyes, I think of the Isle of Man. That’s a large part of why I chose to set my story about a girl’s struggle to overcome her fear of the ocean and its supernatural denizens on this unique and proud island. Take a moment to look up pictures of the Isle (go ahead now, I’ll wait), and as you drink in its unspoiled beauty, you might agree that it’s one place in this world still wild enough that magic seems somehow possible.
The Isle of Man’s rich history and culture also made it such a fun location to research. Despite being conquered by the Irish, the Vikings, and later by the English, the Isle maintained cultural traditions all its own, adapting outside influences until they became distinctly Manx.
However, in the early 1900s, around the time that Bridey’s story takes place, there were very few people on the Isle speaking Manx Gaelic. Parents at that time felt their children would be better served by learning only English, so Bridey and her friends probably wouldn’t have known any Manx. Still, I chose to honor the Isle’s heritage by having Bridey speak her native language, and she and her family would be pleased to know that today, efforts are being made to revive Manx.
As for the other cultural traditions you’ll find throughout this book, such as Bridey going barefoot almost every day, they are indeed accurate to the period to the best of my knowledge—even the people of the Isle’s deeply held beliefs that fairies, or the Little Fellas (as they are never called fairies by the Manx people), existed. Today, if you visit the Isle, you’ll find an echo of this belief reflected in the aptly named Fairy Bridge, a place where it is considered unlucky not to greet the fairies as you cross.
Of course, fairies are just superstition. But if you’re visiting the Isle and you happen to glance out over the sea, and you spot something dark and scaly slicing through the waves, or something like a ghost hovering above them … I’d find the throat bone of a Ballan wrasse and hang it around your neck. Just to be on the safe side.
Peace, love, and sea monsters,
Sarah
MANX SLANG, USEFUL PHRASES, AND THEIR ENGLISH MEANINGS
Across: The British mainland
Aye: Yes
Bonnag: Flat cake-bread, usually made with dried fruit
Cair vie: Fair winds
Cammag: A Manx team sport, similar to Irish hurling, involving a curved stick and a ball
Comeover: A non-native person living on the Isle
Crosh Bollan: The cross-shaped throat bone of the wrasse fish; it was used as an amulet
Cushag: Ragwort, the national flower of the Isle of Man
Fastyr mie: Good evening
Gura mie ayd: Thank you
Herrin’: Herring, a common Manx food
Keeill: A chapel
Litcheragh: Lazy
Little Fellas: Term for fairies
Longtail: A rat; a term used out of superstition, often on boats
Mark: A fishing ground distinguished by its landmarks
Moghrey mie: Hello or good morning
Middle-World Men: Another term for fairies
Queenies: Queen scallops
Samson: A beverage made of treacle and hops, believed to give a person strength
Scutch: A quantity of something, e.g., There are a scutch of people at the market
Shoh Slaynt: Here’s health; used in place of the American “Cheers”
Snigs: Young eels
Ta’n ennym orrym …: My name is …
Themselves: Fairies or other supernatural beings
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Now it’s time to thank all the amazing people who helped bring this book to life, who stood bravely by my side as I fought my way through the daunting quest we call “becoming a published author.” Brace yourselves—here comes the mushy part.
To my husband, Chris: You saw this dream inside me, but more than that, you saw potential, and you never let me give up. You’re my biggest fan, my tireless cheerleader, and I’m beyond grateful to have you as my creative partner (for intense brainstorming sessions) and my life partner (there’s no one else I’d rather fight orcs with on a Friday night). This book wouldn’t exist without you, babe.
To Mom and Dad: Thank you for all the bedtime stories, the library trips, and the books you brought home, never complaining about how many I’d devour in a week. Thanks for not letting me read at the dinner table, so I still learned how to interact with people like a normal human. But above all, thank you for the love, and for telling me I could be anything I want to be.
To Lindsey: This story is dedicated to you, which pretty much says it all, but it bears repeating: Thank you for putting up with me. You’re my favorite (only) sister.
To my grandparents, Dawn and Dave: From teaching me handwriting and helping with homework, to introducing me to cookies (thanks for the lifelong addiction), you’ve been more like second parents than grandparents to me. Thank you for everything.
To my grandmother, DeeDee, the extended Peters family, and my loving in-laws Marilyn and Joe Lauscher: Thank you for believing in me and this story.
To the Williams tribe: Thank you for always cheering me on in whatever I pursue. Hey, Caroline and Mac—now your names are in a book!
To Christa Heschke, my agent: You championed this story from start to finish. Thank you for all your hard work!
To Team Sky Pony: In particular, Alison Weiss, editor extraordinaire, who shaped this book with wit and wisdom. Kristin Kulsavage, who first saw potential in this story and made my dream a reality. And Georgia Morrissey, who gave this book such a beautiful cover.
To my fierce CPs, Katie Bucklein (the Gimli to my Legolas), Ami Allen-Vath (my favorite prom queen), Teresa Yea (my brain twin), Carolee Noury (editorial goddess), and Erin McQuaig (artist/librarian/all-around amazing person): I would be lost without you. You all make me a better writer with your brilliance and your red pens, but more importantly, you have all become important parts of my life. Your friendship is a treasure better than pearls or shipwrecked gold.
To my other early readers, Heidi Lang, Hilary Harwell, Rachel Pudelek, Christine Arnold, Sharon Criscoe, and Eve Castellan: Thank you, always, for your friendship and wisdom! To Laurel Symonds: Thank you for believing in this book, and teaching me so much. To Jodi Meadows: It was a lucky day for me when you agreed to grab coffee! The next one’s on me. To Martina Boone, Melinda McGraner Allen, Laura Weymouth, M.K. England, Gwen Cole, and Rachel Simon: Your friendship, cheerleading, and commiseration are priceless—thank you!
To Lenore Bajare-Dukes: There aren’t words for how grateful I am to have you in my life, so I’ll simply say—thanks for opening my eyes to the wonder that is Lord of the Rings, for wizard rock concerts and long talks and crazy fanfic dares. To Erin Manning: From the moment we realized our mutual love of all things ghostly and strange, you’ve become a lifelong friend, and believed in my work even when I didn’t. Thank you. To Joe Sparks: I’m still working on finding you a dragon; in the meantime, thanks for everything.
To my Twitter friends (too many to name!) and my fellow authors in Sixteen to Read, the Sweet Sixteens, and Team Rogue YA: Thank you for giving me a wonderful, strong community that’s carried me through the toughest days. And to my friends on Elendor: Thank you for sharing stories with me and shaping me into the writer I am today.
To the bloggers who have shared their excitement for this book, most especially: Becky at BookNerdAddict, Kat Kennedy at Cuddlebuggery, Brittany at Brittany’s Book Rambles, Hafsah at IceyBooks, Kit Cat at Let the Pages Reign, Liran at Empress of Books, Nori at ReadWriteLove28, Jen at Pop! Goes the Reader, and Lauren at Live, Love, Read.
And to you, dear reader: Thank you for making my dream possible.
Sarah Glenn Marsh, Fear the Drowning Deep