Author’s Note

In May 2002 I traveled to Ireland for the first time, to hike portions of the Beara Way. I tramped through bogs, up rocky slopes, and down into villages for pints of Guinness and evenings of craic. At the end of my journey, as the Aer Lingus flight taxied down a Shannon runway, I dissolved into hitching sobs. I felt as though I were leaving a lover I’d never see again. Ireland, and in particular the Beara Peninsula, had changed me. I felt a terrible longing—what the Welsh call hiraeth—for this place that was not my home but where I felt my soul had found purchase and purpose.

I did return to Ireland—several times, in fact—to hike the Wicklow Way and the Dingle and Kerry peninsulas, each visit revelatory and treasured, but it was always Beara that held most fast to my imagination.

In January 2014 I began my second novel knowing only that it would be set in Ireland and that an Irish legend would be woven through the contemporary narrative. As I began crafting Annie and Daniel’s characters, both artists with addictions, I researched various legends and tried out a number of locales. Nothing took my characters in the directions they seemed to be called, and the author couldn’t tear her mind away from Ireland’s Southwest.

Then one late winter’s day I came across An Chailleach Bhéarra, the legend, and soon I was reading Beara poet Leanne O’Sullivan’s collections Chailleach: The Hag of Beara (Bloodaxe Books, 2009) and The Mining Road (Bloodaxe Books, 2013). Leanne’s poetry spoke to my heart, and within her themes, I found mine. The Mining Road tells of the Allihies copper mines that flourished and then faded in the mid-late nineteenth century, of miners and the land that was forever changed by famine, industry, and migration.

In June 2015 I had the pleasure of a writing residency at Anam Cara, a writer’s and artist’s retreat just a short walk outside Eyeries, Beara, County Cork, run by writer and editor Sue Booth-Forbes. I spent a solitary week working on copyedits of my first novel, followed by an astonishing and serendipitous week with a handful of writers in a poetry workshop led by Leanne O’Sullivan. It was there I wrote my first poems. And I hiked every day, retracing my steps of thirteen years prior along the Beara Way, visiting the places Annie discovers in The Crows of Beara.

The village of Ballycaróg and Ballycaróg Cove are imaginary places—exceptions in a novel that winds its way through the real towns and villages and trails of Beara and County Cork and Dublin city streets. Ballycaróg is of course based on Allihies, but don’t search for similarities beyond the presence of the former copper mines—unless of course you are looking for the elusive Red-billed Chough. She’s there, flitting between fields and cliff, claiming her space in this most beautiful place.

All gratitude for my agent, Shannon Hassan, whose belief in my writing never wavers, and for Midge Raymond and John Yunker, the visionary founders of Ashland Creek Press and my patient and gentle editors. My heart reaches for Sue Booth-Forbes and the extraordinary space she has created for artists in the peace and beauty of Beara—Anam Cara; for John Ahern, who guided me on the Beara Way, and over these many years has become a cherished friend; for Brendan Johnson, who walked so many miles with me, always and ever by my side; and for those friends who opened their hearts to me, sharing their most personal and painful stories of addiction and recovery. I learned from you, and from Maia Szalavitz’s important work on addiction and treatment, including the value and the limitations of the 12-step recovery process and principles. To my friends and loved ones: Thank you for your honesty and your vulnerability. Your strength and integrity amaze and humble me.

Julie Christine Johnson

Port Townsend, December 2016