Fergus the Giant

An Irish fairytale by Meg Sorick. 

Once upon a time, there was a giant named Fergus. Fergus was one of three brothers, but his brothers had all gone away to find wives for themselves, leaving Fergus alone on the western coast of Ireland. For a while Fergus was happy. There was no one to tell him what to do and no one to fight with for the food, because giants eat a lot of food.

One day while Fergus was on the seashore, scooping fish out of the sea for his supper, he heard singing. It was the most lovely sound he had ever heard. He turned toward the sound, but he couldn’t see where it was coming from for the mist. There’s always a mist near the seashore in Ireland. He tried to walk toward the sound, but it was coming from across Galway Bay.

Now, Galway Bay is a big deep bay where all the ships can come into port. It would take Fergus a long time to walk all the way around Galway Bay especially in the heavy fog which made it very hard to see. And even though giants are very, very big, the ocean between the shores of Galway Bay is deep. Too deep for Fergus to walk through. And Fergus, unfortunately, had never learned to swim.

So it was that every afternoon Fergus would go to the seashore to fetch his supper and he would hear this beautiful voice singing to him from across the bay. Finally, he could stand it no more. He realized how lonely he was all by himself without his family and with no woman to love. In his desperation, he gouged out a huge boulder from the granite cliffs of the Connemara Mountains and hurled it into the bay. With a mighty splash and a huge tidal wave, the boulder settled into the bay. It was almost close enough to step to from the northern shore, but not quite.

Again he gouged another huge boulder, this one bigger than the last one and hurled into the bay. Because this one was bigger, it didn’t fly as far. Closer, but still not enough. Once more, he gouged an even bigger boulder from Connemara’s granite mountains and hurled it into the sea. This one landed closer still to the northern shore. Now Fergus had three big stepping stones to walk across Galway Bay. He didn’t hesitate. He stepped, one, two, three on the islands he had created and lastly onto the southern shore of Galway Bay. And what do you think he found there?

A beautiful lady giant. She had been singing on the seashore every afternoon while she fetched her own supper from the sea. She was as lonely as Fergus and was singing to keep herself company.

So Fergus ran right up to her and told her that he loved her. But she was afraid of him at first because she had never seen this giant before and he was fearsome and big. Much bigger than she was. So he kept her company for a while and scooped fish for her from the sea. He fetched berries from the trees and brought flowers for her to weave into her hair. Pretty soon, she fell in love with Fergus. And when Fergus saw that he had won her heart, he asked her to marry him.

Or course, she said yes. And they lived happily ever after. That’s how the Aran Islands were made. You can see them in Galway Bay down to this very day.

There is a tale from Irish mythology that tells of the formation of The Aran Islands at the hands of giants. In that tale, however, the islands are formed when two giants fight by hurling rocks at one another and they miss and land in the sea. I thought it would be fun to repost this as it was one of the very first things I posted on my blog two years ago. 

Romance Reality Check

With the big day for romance upon us tomorrow, I thought I’d revisit this post I did last year. The reality of romance from yours truly, the cynical romance writer….

Ah, love… Who doesn’t love love? But love in the world of fiction is a funny thing. It’s exciting and passionate and heroic or tragic, even. Two deeply flawed individuals meet, they initially hate each other, conflict arises, circumstances force them together. They find common ground, the struggle they face brings out the best qualities in both of them. They fall desperately, hopelessly in love and live happily ever after. Or if the story ends tragically and the lovers are kept apart, our hearts are broken. Nevertheless, happy ending or no, fictional romances are interesting.

My question for you all to ponder is this: Do love stories give us unrealistic expectations about how things should play out in the real world? Maybe. For example, have you noticed a trend toward super romantic, totally contrived and staged proposals? Do we now expect to be taken up in hot air balloons, on rides in horse-drawn carriages, proposed to on the Jumbotron? Seriously, if someone did that to me, I’d say no just to screw with them. Did you hear about that idiot who stopped traffic on a freeway to propose and ended up getting arrested? He’s lucky he didn’t get run over. Moron. Anyway, is this what it’s come to? Having to make grand, sweeping, over-the-top gestures of true love? It makes my eyes roll so far back in my head I can see behind me. How about just going out for a nice dinner? Really, if you want to surprise someone with a ring, do it under the most ordinary circumstances. Or leave the ring in the fridge next to the ketchup or something. That would be surprising.

By now you’re thinking, “Boy howdy, that Meg’s not romantic at all. Somebody musta done her wrong somewheres.” (You’d be thinking that in your old timey cowboy voice.) Ok, truth be told, I have had a couple messed up relationships. However, so have a lot of people and that doesn’t put them off romance. And that goes for me as well. I just think we need to be realistic in our expectations of love in the real world. It’s not all candlelight and flowers and everyone looking like a supermodel. Or Aidan Turner, damn it. (Ross Poldark, is the perfect example of the flawed but fabulous hero.)

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Sometimes the little things can be just as romantic. Like snuggling under the covers on a rainy morning. Or being told you’re beautiful (or handsome) even when your hair is a mess and you don’t have makeup on (or the dude equivalent of that). Or combining your finances and your music collection, even if you hate their Steely Dan albums. (Ok, my Steely Dan albums. No judging.) And kissing even when you’re not going to have sex.

All right, you get the idea. And everyone’s list will be unique anyway. The point is the little things that happen every day can be just as wonderful and loving and romantic as the big shiny things that DeBeers tries to sell you. Or that romance novels lead you to believe. Don’t let fictional romance ruin the real thing for you. Everybody deserves a happy ending.

Love, Meg

What do you think, writers and readers? What does romance mean to you?

Casting the romantic lead

Oh this is a very silly post… I have written before about how I ‘see’ the stories I write as films playing in my mind. I’ve often wondered if maybe they would make better screen plays than novels. Television miniseries or something. Trust me I don’t have any illusions of them becoming big Hollywood films or anything…

One of the devices I use to help me see the action in my head is to cast actors as the characters in my story. For example, in Breaking Bread, the roles of Maya, Olivia, Leo Donovan, and Detective Jack Staley I’ve cast the following:

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Rachel Wieze
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Jennifer Garner
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Bradley Cooper
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Jon Hamm

For some reason, I’m not satisfied with my initial choices for the characters of Brad and Juan Paolo and it’s nagging at me that I can’t see them in their roles. So, my friends and loyal readers I would like to ask:  Who do you ‘see’ playing Brad in the screen version of Breaking Bread. How about Juan Paolo?