20 years ago, Lesa and I were living in London with the greatest joy that life can bring, a beautiful and perfect one year old boy, Brendan. I was trying to develop as a writer and Lesa was finishing her art degree. One weekend, high on exhaustion and disinfectant, we produced a picture book. I wrote the words – I admit now I did not put enough effort into revision and re-draughting, and ignored some of Lesa’s advice – and printed them out on a noisy slow dot-matrix printer. Lesa set to with pens and brushes. I guess Brendan was a little on the young side, but we brought it out every year or two, and shared it with the girls too when they came along. Then it languished on the bookshelf. When the RTE Guide and Poolbeg announced a competition to write a story for the Jack and Jill Foundation, a little light switched on in our heads. We dragged the story off the shelf – the cover was decaying and the plastic pockets it was displayed in were sticking together. We applied love – and twenty years of experience, several draughts and some collaboration – and came up with a revised and, I hope, much improved version of the story. When we heard it was accepted for publication, we were delighted that this work can live again and bring not only joy to those who might read the book, but also bring some little help to the families and children that Jack and Jill helps every year. Please click on the link below and enjoy the graphics and, by way of appreciation, please purchase a copy of the book, Once Upon a Bedtime, when it comes out in October, all proceeds to Jack and Jill. The full original graphic story
Having published Thickened With Blood in the Independent last December, I am now nominated in the Emerging Writers section of the Hennessey Literary Awards. Lesa and I get to go to a posh do in April, excitement and dress choices all round!
My story Thickened With Blood was in Saturday’s Independent, can also be read online here: http://www.independent.ie/entertainment/books-arts/hennessy-new-irish-writing-thickened-with-blood-29855689.html
Delighted to learn that Ciaran Carty of the Irish Independent is going to publish my story Thickened With Blood in his New Irish Writing section this Saturday (21st December). NIW normally appears last Saturday of the month but jumps a week forward on account of Christmas.
I went into RTE last week and recorded my story Snow Can’t Last, and it was subsequently broadcast Monday (was originally Friday, but then Nelson Mandella had the ill consideration to go and die!)
I had the privilege to be at the launch of Diarmuid O’Chongaile’s first novel, Being Alexander. While I was waiting for the festivities to begin, standing in the Gutter Bookshop, I flicked through a few pages. The power of Diarmuid’s voice reached out to me immediately. It is a voice that rings strongly and consistently through the novel and is a major achievement for a first time writer. It puts me very much in mind of some of the great contemporary American authors like Joseph Heller and John Irving. The story that he tells is less of a journey and more of a sight seeing expedition. He stops and marvels at each little thing, filling in a bit of back story on each character, philosophising on each trivial event while all but ignoring the major plot turns, remembering fondly a childhood lost but grown sacred with memory.
There is a scene where Alexander has acquired a top of the range BMW; he climbs in, astonished by the quality of everything about the car. He goes to drive off, is politely informed by the satnav that he is going the wrong way and, still recovering from a very heavy night’s drinking, he vomits down the beautiful dashboard. I thought this was a metaphor for Alexander as a whole. Privileged, well educated, with a girlfriend and family who care deeply about him, Alexander pretty much vomits on everything that could bring salvation to his life. He turns constantly away from anything good and seeks out whatever is destructive, soulless and empty.
He is not, though, a pitiful or malicious character, he is simply cast adrift in a vacuum lacking spirituality or values, itself a metaphor for the worst days of the Celtic Tiger corruption in which he is immersed. He watches himself as if from afar, as the reader does also, curious to see what he will do next, what depravity he will choose to sink to. Despite his deep failings, Alexander is a charming host for this sight seeing tour. His looping deviations constantly entertain and amuse, and, as you drop your head in your hands thinking ‘what the hell is he at now’, you are already forgiving him and vainly hoping that he will find some direction and some happiness.
It’s a first novel, it certainly won’t be Diarmuid’s last given the fantastic prose and that voice.
Had a great time at the New Planet Cabaret last night, Gutter Bookshop. The launch featured a full hour program with invited contributors reading their pieces, well worth a listen on RTE:
My story didn’t get read but I did get a mention so very happy.
The book is now available in the Gutter Bookshop and country wide, as well as Amazon, proceeds go to a charity that seeks to make writers available to schools to inspire children.
Back in April, my story Snow Can’t Last was read out on the Arena program on RTE as part of Dave Lordan’s New Planet Cabaret series. Now the best stories plus some commissioned stories are appearing in a New Island book, to be launched Friday in the Gutter Bookshop. Looking forward to it.
The Irish Times have been running a series of stories based around the general subject of the events of the last five years, recession, property crash, bank guarantee etc, under the title Legends of the Fall. It has featured such luminaries of the Irish literature scene as Ann Enright, Colm Tobin etc.
They had an open competition to submit a story to feature as the last in the series in this weekend’s paper. I am delighted to find that my story Vicious Circular has been shortlisted in a group of ten for the competition, and appear on the Irish Times website today here
Incandescent Cocoa was published on the web site shortbreadstories.co.uk