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.