I am delighted to have a short story of mine ‘Tiger Hunt’ featured in this issue of The Looking Glass, a great magazine that showcases children’s literature and illustration. I wrote the story to take a different view of the Celtic Tiger era in Ireland – a period of rapid economic growth often referred to as a bubble as it wasn’t sustainable, and as a result the economy crashed bringing Ireland down with it. Tiger Hunt is from a young girl, Lucy’s point of view after the bubble had burst featuring a tiger, a lion and a lot of bubbles! All comments welcome.
Here’s a snippet to whet your appetite…
A bubble that’s all it was. Celtic Tiger me arse.”
They all grumbled then. In a wave of “You’re right there” and “Sure we didn’t see any of it” that went from one end of the table to the other. Then they supped, slurped a gulp of whatever coloured stuﬀ they got from the bar and started talking about other things. I was under the table surrounded by their legs. My mind whizzing so fast I felt dizzy. The tiger was back. And this time he was in a bubble.
A while ago all anyone talked about was the tiger. It was tiger this and tiger that. He’d even been on the news. I didn’t know what this tiger’d done or why he’d done it, but somehow he was more famous than Tony. You know Tony? That tiger on the box of Frosties.Now, I never liked Tony much or the ﬂakes he thought were so great. They were way too sweet and made the top of my mouth furry, but I felt sorry for him. Sure he was on telly a lot, but I’d never heard him being talked about on the news.
But this tiger wasn’t like Tony or any of the others. He was a Celtic one that I couldn’t ﬁnd in any of my nature books or online encyclopaedia.
“What does Celtic mean dad?”
On the telly coloured balls rolled around a bigger plastic ball.
“What are you on about Lucy?” He looked from his ticket to the telly and back again.
“Celtic, what does it mean?”
Scrunching up the ticket he threw it at the screen. I tugged at his sleeve.
“What does Celtic mean?”
“It means Irish. Now go oﬀ and ﬁnd something useful to do.”
When I said it to my teacher she laughed. “An Irish tiger, well now that’s a new one. As far as I know you can only ﬁnd them in Asia or Africa.”
I turned away feeling stupider than ever.
“Unless you’re talking about zoos of course.”
A bing went oﬀ in my head. Maybe that was it. Maybe the Celtic tiger was at Dublin Zoo.
You can read the rest at: http://www.tlgmagazine.org/view-volume-two-issue-two.html