No one tells any story but their own. In writing my Irish book, I feel that is actually painful knowing that I bear an untold story inside me. Little by little we find our way, perhaps not unlike this Irish lad, slowly maneuvering through the hustle bustle of the crowded street on his prized pony at the Ennistymon Horse Fair in County Clare in hopes that someone may take a chance and like it enough to call it their own and let the story go on . . .