Just to add to what Redwolf has said, one thing you will almost definitely be caught out on is having an Irish character saying something that is distinctly American. We don't use a Kleenex, we use a tissue; we don't put gas in our cars, we put petrol/diesel; we don't buy bags of chips in a newsagents, we buy bags of crisps. The list is pretty lengthy..... It is not an easy task you have set yourself, but I am sure it will work out. Drop in here whenever you want to check something. Best of luck with it.

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Good point. I agree completely.

In fact, thinking about it, correct usage of Irish terminology in English will go a lot way toward making your characters sound more authentic without risking making caricatures of them, and is much better than trying to recreate an accent on paper.

It is quite a list. Another thing: since you mention having both Irish and English characters, you want to be clear on what terms an English person might use that an Irish person might not, or vice versa. There are similarities, but not all terms/turns of phrase are universal to both countries.

I think Breandán's got it right...if you possibly can, spend time in the part of Ireland you're writing about and get a feel for how people actually speak.

On a related note, I recently had an interesting exchange with a waiter in an Irish pub in Sacramento. Unlike a lot of so-called "Irish pubs" in the States, this one had a very authentic feel to it (and a much more authentic menu than you normally see here), and I automatically fell into Irish terminology:

Me (after ordering my sandwich): Does that come with chips?

Waiter: No...sorry. It comes with fries. But if you want chips, I could probably find some.

Me (remembering that I was in Sacramento, not Dublin): No thanks. Fries will be fine.

Good thing for the waiter I remembered I was in California before I left the tip!

Redwolf

You guys have no idea how badly I want to visit Ireland. It's #1 on my bucket list! Hopefully I can talk my hubby into an anniversary trip for our 15th anniversary (only a four year wait), though it would be as much of a research trip as a vacation. My great, great, great grandfather immigrated to the US from Ireland. His name was Callaghan and they changed it to Callahan upon arrival. I'd love to get to know my Irish roots! I wonder if a trip like that could be written off as 'job expenses' on my taxes? lol ;O)

Actually, yes it can. You'd have to work out how much of the trip was job-related (you can't write off the entire thing, unless it's only you, and you're doing nothing but research), but you could probably write off a portion of it.

I know you were partially kidding, but all kidding aside, if you're serious about making a career as a writer, it's worth consulting a tax professional about this kind of thing. Often research trips CAN be partially written off. And, to be honest, if you're writing novels set in other countries, it really is rather important to spend some time visiting those countries.

Of course, the other, more traditional, option is to pitch the book to a publisher and hope for an advance...

Airfare can be pricey, but the rest of the trip can be done (relatively speaking) on the cheap. Aside from a couple of lovely visits with friends and one arranged homestay, I spent most of my last visit to Ireland staying in hostels or shared self-catering accommodations, living out of a backpack, and getting around by bus. We Americans tend to fall into the mindset of staying in hotels, eating in restaurants, and renting cars, and that can put a trip overseas expensively out of reach. Thinking outside of the box can make the whole thing much more affordable (and, to be honest, a lot more fun!)

We used to have a regular on the old forum who has been quite successful writing historical romance novels set in Ireland. She might be of some help in this regard as well. Perhaps I should see if she's willing to come over here and give us some input.

Redwolf

Okay, so I got the editing done for the first book after a non-stop 2 hour free-for-all! LOL. Whoever invented Microsoft's find/replace application is a frickin' genius!!!!!

So here's what's left in the first book for Irish words/slang/phrases and the context that they're in. I hope it's close... I tried to correct as many as I could based on the corrections/suggestions from this thread.

And since there was confusion on the myth parts, I added how the 'myth' (that I used creative license to make up...lol) is explained to the main character in book one.

Irish Words in Context

“Ah, well, no need to have that amadán botherin’ you on your son’s birthin’ day,” she answered, gently touching the stark bruise on Morgan’s cheek.

“Mo ghrá,” Quinn gasped as she rubbed against him. “Ná déan é sin! Don’t do that!” he translated...

“Álainn,” he sighed when her shirt fell open, revealing her rounded breasts.

“Are you ready for what you seek, I wonder, Bean mo chroí?” Woman of my heart. Morgan sighed at his words.

Quinn smiled at her words. “Together we are strong, a grá mo chroí.” Love of my heart.

“Look at me, mo chroí,” he told her as they both began to peak.

“Níos láidre le chéile, le chéile i gcónaí,” Maggie read the Irish inside the band for her.
“Stronger Together, Together Always,” Morgan translated, tears coming to her eyes. “It’s perfect, Maggie. Thank you.”

“Hello, Braden Michael MacQuill,” she whispered, kissing his forehead. Mo ghrá.” She looked up at Clare, unsure of what she had just said.
“It’s Irish, Morgan,” Clare explained. “For, my love.”

“This crib has been in our family since the Sons of Mil came to the island. They say the warrior, Oisín, carved it for Niamh while she carried their first child.” Brigid explained, softly.

“So you’ve come at last, mo Sí?” his voice strong and gentle as he asked. My fairie. Morgan wanted to snort at the endearment. She was still in her pajamas, hair disheveled from sleeping. He was the one that looked fey as he stood like an ancient god in a circle void of winter with fireflies blinking around him.

“More of Brigid’s special brew?” she asked, referring to the extra ingredients her cousin always added to everyone’s drink.
“No,” he answered, with a chuckle. “Just very good, very old, Irish whiskey.” Morgan smiled and took the glass. “Sláinte.”

“If I’d known you wanted to go back to work, I’d have said something sooner. I should’ve trusted that you could handle anything. If I had, maybe I wouldn’t have seen some of your Irish temper earlier today.” He took her hand and turned it, kissing her palm. “Will you forgive me Morgan, for being a bloody amadán?”

“Well, in that case,” Morgan trailed off with a gasp when Quinn’s lips moved to her shoulder. “I’m sorry about your nose.”
“It’ll heal,” he mumbled, his lips now against the soft skin of her neck. “Déithe thuas, you’re so sweet.” ---- I had a few people recommend using Dar na déithe thuas instead (meaning by the gods above).

“Keep your focus, Róisín,” Ian whispered her childhood nickname as he called up his power to strengthen hers.

Some Irish phrases/slang

“Top of the mornin’ to you, Morgan,” he called before swinging the ax again. She jumped when he spoke; clearly unaware that he had seen her.
“Do the Irish really say that?” she asked, stepping closer to him.
“Rarely and mostly for tourists,” he answered, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Your Uncle Jamie is rather fond of the phrase though. I thought you’d enjoy it.”

“You had no right to do than, Quinn,” her voice shook as she spoke, tears spilling over now as Quinn tried to speak. Before he could say another word, she was walking out the door. He rushed after her and slammed headlong into an invisible wall. His nose cracked from the impact and his eyes filled as he felt the blood start to gush from his nose.
“Bloody clod,” Brigid growled, putting a handkerchief to his face.
“I didn’t know she could do that,” Quinn mumbled, tilting his head back.
“Neither did I but then I’ve never pissed her off,” Brigid answered without sympathy. “This’ll bruise something awful for a few weeks.” ----- (Is there a more common Irish slang to use for ‘clod’ and ‘pissed’?)

“I don’t deserve Heaven,” she told him, a miserable sigh escaping her.
“That’s bollocks.” Quinn’s voice echoed in her mind, sure and positive. “I’d say Heaven doesn’t deserve you.”



The ‘Myth’ that the stories are based on... actually multiple Celtic myths tweaked and put together to create one that would work for the series. (As described to Morgan (American) by Brigid (Irish) in book 1)

“Long ago,” she began, “Before men had walked on the green hills, lived a race of gods and goddesses that ruled over the land. They were the children of the goddess Danu and they ruled over Ireland with love and light. Called the Tuatha De Danann, the gods had battled a great evil to pull the green isles from night and death.”
“The creatures that had come before, called the Fomóirí, were a race of evil fairies who’s purpose was to rid the world of goodness. Theirs was a dark magic that spread evil and hate throughout the land. In their true forms, they were ugly and misshapen, some being so hideous that they even struck the gods speechless. Their magic allowed them to shroud themselves in false beauty to lure innocents into their grasp. Once done, they returned to their gruesome forms to devour their unsuspecting prey.”
Morgan leaned back in her chair unable to suppress the shiver that Brigid’s story caused. She closed her eyes and Brigid continued to tell the tale.
“On the eve of a great battle, the Tuatha cast a spell, blocking out the sun and moon for three days and three nights. The Fomóirí, who were creatures of darkness, thought they had defeated the Tuatha and celebrated with revelry. The Tuatha attacked while they were unprepared and overcame the Fomóirí, casting them back to the dark waters from where they came. From then on there was joy and peace in the land.”
“The Tuatha built four great cities that were known as the cities of light. They guarded the four points of Ireland, keeping watch, should the Fomóirí ever try to return. Falais bordered the East where the first rays of sun struck the island. Gorias bordered the northern cliffs where winter would cling to the land. Murias stood guard at the southernmost point where the warmth held out the longest. Findias watched over the Western border where the sun set over the Atlantic.”
“It is said that the Tuatha De Danann knew that one day man would inherit the land that they loved. Fearing that the Fomóirí would once again try to rise from the depths, the Tuatha cast a powerful enchantment over all Ireland. Out of each golden city was brought a magical object so powerful that together, they would one day save the green isles from darkness.”
“Out of Falais was brought Lia Fail, the Stone of Destiny. Whoever held it gained the power to rule over all the land and all its creatures. Out of Gorias came Lugh’s Spear. Its power could vanquish forever any power set against it. Out of Findias was brought the Sword of Nauda. Whoever held the sword could raise the strongest army of man and magic to conquer any foe. And from Murias came Dagda’s Cauldron. Whoever used the cauldron could heal any wound and even reverse death. Together the four treasures could make the Tuatha invincible unto the ends of time. Nevertheless, they knew their fate and instead of using the gifts, hid them with a powerful enchantment. They were to remain hidden until four guardians, good and true, would use them to protect Ireland. Thousands and thousands of years would pass before the gifts would be needed.”
“But the Fomóirí desired to steal the treasures and use them to destroy. The guardians would have to fight to protect them to save the isle from the darkness once again. The Tuatha did not know what the future would bring but blessed the treasures and their keepers as best they could. The emerald isle could be saved or swept away into the dark waters; only destiny would tell,” Brigid paused, waiting for Morgan to open her eyes.
“Men began to venture into Éire. At first, they worshiped the Tuatha as gods, seeking them out for their wisdom and magic. However, humankind became greedy and coveted the island for themselves. They went to war to gain the island. The Tuatha could have easily overcome the uprising, but they had seen that men were destined to rule the Isles, so without bloodshed, they gave up their green hills and blue skies. They withdrew into the hills, under the burrows and cairns. Men gave their underground places names: Hy-Breasail, The Phantom Isle of Fairies, and Tir na nÓg. They lie deep under the green hills of Ireland.”
“Wait a minute,” Morgan interrupted. “So you’re saying that the Tuatha are just fairies?”
“Fairies, elves, magical creatures and aye, that’s what the Tuatha now are.”
“So they live underground?”
“Aye, but not exactly like you’d imagine,” Brigid answered with a smile. “The magical places may be underground but they’re enormous caverns full of beautiful palaces. You don’t even feel like you’re underground.”
“You make it sound as if you’ve been there,”
“Not yet,” she murmured. “I mean, no. That’s how my grandparents always described it to me.”
“Where does our family come into this?” Morgan asked, loving the story Brigid was telling.
“The Sí or fairies, as they’re now called, didn’t leave Ireland’s fate to mankind alone. The Fomóirí desired the treasures , to use the power to defeat both the Tuatha and mankind, and once again rule the world. The Tuatha couldn’t hide the treasures forever but instead enchanted them. So if ever the day came when the Fomóirí tried to take Ireland, there would be a chance for mankind to prove their merit. Each keeper would be given up to a year to keep their treasure and the world safe.”
“Though men, at that time, were greedy and power-hungry, there were three warriors, brothers of the heart, worthy of such a task as to guard the fate of the world. They were strong warriors that only wanted to live in a land of peace. The Sí knew the warrior’s hearts were pure and sent three goddesses into the land. They were sisters, not of blood but of spirit and magic. With their help, the warriors became the high kings of Ireland and ruled with their queens, the three goddesses. Their descendants would guard the treasures from the four golden cities.”
“Now, before you question the fact that there were four gifts and only three sisters, I will explain. The Sons of Mil, as men were called then, had brought with them a bard and sorcerer called Amergin White Knee who told wonderful stories of the days of old. He always spoke the truth and only used his powers for good. He won the favor of the three queens and knowing that his heart was humble and full of truth, they entrusted him with the most powerful gift of all, Lia Fail. Whoever used it became the true king of the land. All its creatures: men and fairie, bowed to it. The queens gave the stone to the bard, knowing that he wouldn’t let it fall into the wrong hands.”
Morgan smiled as she imagined the queens, regal and beautiful, ruling equally beside three handsome, warrior men.
“The first king had hair as black as the soil and eyes as gray as the clouds before the rain. He wished for his lands to be plentiful so his people would never hunger. His queen had hair the color of fire and the power to see what was to come. His name was MacCecht and it means, son of the plow. His descendants, the MacKeet’s, still live today.”
“The second king had hair the color of the sun and eyes as gold as wheat ready for harvest. He wished for the land to be at peace. His queen had hair the color of gold and the power to calm the spirit and balance the power. His name was MacGreine and it means son of the sun. His descendants, the MacGreen’s still live on the land of their forefathers.”
“Quinn!” Morgan interrupted.
“Aye. Quinn is the descendent of one of the high kings of Ireland,” Brigid answered. “The third king had hair as brown as the bark of a tree and eyes as green as hills of the land. He wished for the healing of his people. His queen had hair like new copper and the power to erase the wounds and sickness of any man or woman. His name was MacCuill and it means son of the hazel. Today his descendants are the MacQuill’s. Our family, our heritage, brought down from one of the high kings of Ireland. Our gift is for healing in any form and any fashion,” Brigid finished her story and watched as Morgan tried to absorb it all.

God...where do I start.

I'll get to work on some of this tomorrow (hopefully others can get to work in the meantime). But just to begin with:

NO ONE in Ireland EVER says "Top o' the mornin' to you"! Seriously! That's "stage Oirish"...music hall shite that was created to make FUN of the Irish! Strike it out, please, and forget you ever thought of it!

This is one of the many reasons we want you to avoid trying to use dialect. You have some real caricatures going there. Unless you've lived for some time in Ireland, you really shouldn't even attempt it.

There are problems with the Irish language as well, and also other English dialect issues. I'll try to go through line-by-line tomorrow if others don't get to it first.

Redwolf

Ouch.
I really hope I didn't offend you by it. I knew it wasn't a well-liked phrase, which is why he says it's rarely used but I didn't realize it was so hated.
I wasn't trying to make the characters like carictatures and I'm so sorry if it sounded like that.

Don't worry too much Amanda, for me it's not really offensive just funny and over the top, i.e. not realistic. It would be like setting a story in California and having everybody saying things like "narly, hang ten, radical" or talking like Bill and Ted. Or maybe having everybody talk like Pilgrims in a story set in modern America.

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The dialect I use is Cork Irish.
Ar sgáth a chéile a mhairid na daoine, lag agus láidir, uasal is íseal

Here's a start. Corrections and comments in red:



I'll try to look at more later.

Redwolf

I agree with virtually everything Redwolf has said here. A couple of things to add.

I have never heard that. For the record, I am Irish and live in Ireland.

Actually this is o.k. 'She was pissed' means 'She was drunk'; 'She was pissed off' means 'She was annoyed/irritated about something'. It is fine to say 'I've never pissed her off'; it means 'I have never annoyed her/rubbed her up the wrong way.'

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