This is St. Patrick’s Day, and as they say, “Everyone’s Irish on St. Patrick’s Day.” Are you wearing green? (I won’t pinch you if you don’t pinch me.)
As a romance writer, I should be wearing a t-shirt that says–
Do you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day? I wish I’d planned to celebrate it this year, but one son is in Big D, watching his wife and THE TALK OF TULSA compete against other choruses. (Good luck, guys!)
And another one is getting ready for a wedding, with the third brother helping that one out.
Something writers do that you don’t usually see in their books is get to know their characters’ histories. Some go way back, some not so far. But in doing that, I’ve become more curious about my own.
I learned I really do have an Irish connection, besides being married to an Irishman. My great-grandmother’s maiden name was McCrackin. Before you tell me that’s a Scottish name, not Irish, let me finish.
Sometime my predecessors scooted over from Scotland to Ireland, and lived there for a few generations before migrating to the Land of Opportunity. So does that make me Scottish? Does it make me Irish? Nope.
IT MAKES ME AN AMERICAN! (And proud of it!)
I also have German, Black Dutch and (I was told recently) French in my makeup. I could be the melting pot of the world. 🙂
So lets all celebrate the Irish in us with a big glass of green apple juice.
Just don’t show me your green teeth when you’re through.