The Lost Celt
Page 17
Some doctors might suggest that Liam is also suffering from a moral injury, or inner conflict, which is a subset of PTSD. It occurs when someone has had to do, or see, something that may be unavoidable in war, but that goes against that person’s beliefs. It can feel like a bruise on your soul that is hard to live with, making it difficult to return to normal life. Liam had to make a very difficult choice, which he would never have had to make at home. Making that choice hurt him and led him to live with a moral injury.
Mild traumatic brain injury (TBI) can be caused by hitting your head or being near an explosion. For a while afterwards this can give you headaches; make you feel tired, depressed, or worried; make you forgetful; or make you very emotional—happy one moment and irritable the next. Liam has been near at least one large explosion. This could explain some of his mood swings.
A Note on Spelling and Pronunciation
The stories of Cuchulain come from Ireland and so the names are spelled and pronounced differently from English names. I have taken the spellings from The Hound of Ulster, the book Mikey reads, which uses English versions of the Irish names. One exception is the “Cattle Raid of Cooley,” which is called the “Cattle Raid of Quelgney” in The Hound of Ulster, and “Táin Bó Cúailnge” in Irish.
Acknowledgements
I started The Lost Celt in October 2011, based on a conversation with friends Jeff Kohlwes, Clinical Professor of Internal Medicine and Physician at the University of California, San Francisco, and the Veterans Affairs Medical Center, and Leslie Miya, Adjunct Professor of Medicine and Attending Physician, Emergency Department, Veterans Affairs Medical Center, San Francisco, California. I am indebted to them for that initial conversation, and to Jeff for reading an early manuscript and trying to help a layperson understand the subtleties of the definitions found in the Author’s Notes. Any errors are mine.
During the intervening years many other people have helped with ideas, expertise, encouragement, and financial support. I particularly want to thank one veteran without whom this book would never have been published. You know who you are. How many other “genuses” are out there? Several other veterans also gave financial support anonymously. I thank them and all those who have served, their families, and particularly their children. You have been there for us, and I hope we, the wider community, will be there for you. Twenty percent of the net profits from this book will be donated to veterans’ charities.
I fervently hope that the portrayal of Liam O’Driscoll is respectful to veterans dealing with a combination of PTSD and mild TBI, even though, for fictional purposes, it could not be completely typical. Dr. Susan Maxwell, Psychologist, PCT (Post-traumatic Stress Disorders Clinical Team) San Francisco Veterans Affairs Medical Center, read an early draft and helped me greatly with invaluable changes. Nancy Laurenson at the Defense and Veterans Brain Injury Center, Veterans Affairs Palo Alto Health Care System, read a later draft and spent many hours on the telephone helping me understand some of the issues involved. Josh Gibson, MD, also reassured me that I was on the right track. Thank you all for your time and insight. Any errors in Liam’s portrayal are my own.
M’Ladies of the Book (Alie Berka, Darcey Rosenblatt, Lisa Schulman, and Elizabeth Shreeve) read versions of The Lost Celt. Ladies, your comments always make my writing better, though we all find it tough at the time. Thank goodness we break for lunch at half past eleven!
Darcey Rosenblatt (so good I named her twice), and Shannon Ledger solved many “but how is this really working” questions. Kathryn Otoshi, Debra Sartell, and Anne Belden, we don’t meet as often as we’d like, but it’s always wonderful when we do.
The Tuesday Night Writers (Cyndi Cady, Chris Cole, Josh Gibson, Tanya Egan Gibson, Tom Joyce, and John Phillip) and the Pints and Prose regulars have been there for me through the whole journey. So has Jon Wells, who believed in this book like no one else. He talked me through military procedures and let me try on his “cammies.” He and our wonderful teacher, Stephanie Moore, are always with the TNWs in spirit.
Joseph and Eleanor Huang, Nathan and Owen Ross, Jackson Walker, and my own Lizzy, read to tell me when clues lay too heavily in the text. Charlie Dyer let me use the name of his playground game “Squash the Tofu,” and Ms. Halpern, one of the excellent librarians in the Larkspur-Corte Madera School District, lent me her name for Mikey’s librarian.
Katherine Applegate, Eric Elfman, and Suzanne Morgan Williams graciously put aside valuable time to help and encourage a “pre-published author.” Such is the children’s book community and the SCBWI. Your kind words and support have made all the difference. Thank you.
I am very fortunate to work for Elaine and Bill Petrocelli at Book Passage in Corte Madera. I am inspired every time I walk through the door, and grateful to Calvin Crosby, Susan Kunhardt, Leslie Berkler, and all the other fabulous staff, for welcoming me so openly and teaching me so much.
And, it was through the Book Passage Children’s Writers and Illustrators Conference that I connected with Shirin Yim Bridges, which resulted in me calling myself a “Goose.” Thank you, Shirin, for dramatically improving The Lost Celt with your editing and for making my dreams come true. Thanks also to my agent, Sarah Davies, my loyal supporter, who allowed me to experiment in the changing world of publishing.
Finally, I’d like to thank my amazing family. Mum and Dad, I was always surrounded by books in your house. Thank you for loving me always. Ben, thanks for initiating me into the ways of boyhood. You are the most charming, imaginative, and wonderful son. Lizzy, you’ve been my biggest supporter. I would have faltered in my first drafts if it weren’t for you, my avid reader and sidekick. I look forward to being your sidekick in the future. Lastly, Pat, all this would have been impossible without you. You are, and always will be, the best thing that ever happened to me.
A. E. Conran, California, June 15, 2015