Irish Writing

The Thing About Spring

Between the Christmas lights and summer nights, spring can seem a long way away.

I was a girl in Warrenpoint in the spring of my life. Spring meant daffodils in the beds of our garden and fragrant new flowers on the buddleia my grandfather planted.

It meant a sunny walk to school, with your raincoat still on, just in case. It meant the beginning of a hive of planning for Our Lady’s celebrations in May, learning our hymns and practicing our readings.

Ringed around the statue of Our Lady, with shining shoes and pristine collars, we squinted into the sun and admired her new crown of flowers.

Spring meant seeing the dowdy autumn browns of the trees lining the carriageway give way to fresh greens and a carpet of moss and flowers.

Speeding past in the car one afternoon, you’d notice all of a sudden a flash of blues and purples. Once the bluebells appeared, I knew spring had arrived.

My father took me walking in the forest, where we’d examine spring’s goods, like canny shoppers. The forest was always cool and calm with fingers of sun peeking through the canopy. Underfoot was spongy, a prize trifle of moss, pine needles and sticks. The air smelled green and new, like wild garlic and wet leaves. In among the moss, pockets of bluebells rose, determined to have their time.

When spring came, so too did the frogs. Each week we’d visit the big pond in the heart of the quarry and watch the jelly change. It went from a sticky, silent mass to a lump of wriggling tails to tiny but heartbreakingly perfect frogs, speeding around the water, weighing nothing. Finally, one week they were gone. I was so disappointed. My father said they’d be be back next year. That’s the thing about spring.

We must remember that under our feet and just out of sight, spring is waiting to surprise us with colour and bloom. An hour of surprising heat or a flash of blue sky with high white clouds, in place of the overhanging gloom and cold.

Irish Author Susan Lanigan: Why It’s Too Soon to Celebrate Irish Women Writers

Author interviews can be tricky. Being a writer is a tough gig, with not a lot of time and money left over for promotion. Often a cursory approach is the only viable one even for the most willing of participants. 

Not so with Susan Lanigan.

We asked questions and she gave us answers for days - answers that were honest, brave and challenging. 

Lanigan’s first novel, ‘White Feathers’ a tale of passion, betrayal and WWI was shortlisted for the Romantic Novel of the Year Award 2015, and she has been thrice shortlisted for the Hennessy New Irish Writing Award and longlisted and shortlisted for the Fish Short Story Contest, the Bristol Prize, the Raymond Carver Short Story Award. 

Read on to learn more about her road to publication, her advice for aspiring writers and why we have a long way to go before we can celebrate Irish women writers...

Tell us about yourself.

“I’m a software developer by trade, living currently near Dublin by the sea.

Your debut novel ‘White Feathers’ is an historical novel, set in WW1, about love, sacrifice an family. Why did you write it?

“Although it is a historical novel, I think it came partly from a great disquiet at where Irish society was heading. The old lies and convolutions seemed to hold sway. There was of course, the stigmatising symbol of the white feather during WWI, which fascinated me.

“But there were also events happening at the time which deeply affected me, events involving politics, cover-up, vested interests and stigma. I sought to make sense of my emotions on the page.  More than that, I sought to make it right. What remains unresolved and un-atoned-for in real life gets resolved on the page, for better or worse.

“But the real life irresolution means the writer is never done with resolving. ‘There is one story, and one story only’ Robert Graves said. I now understand what he means. It’s a re-opening wound.

“World War One is a popular theme because it is a crucible through which the horrors of all ages can be melted down and examined. I think that’s why we’re still so fascinated. My sister has a theory that it’s because the sacrifice was seen as pointless and the war for no good cause, as opposed to WWII where Hitler was the bad guy. It becomes more about internal power than an external battle.

“As to why I continued writing and did not stop – I could not. I had to see Eva’s journey’s through myself. I needed to know what happened next even as I wrote. It was my own Pilgrim’s Progress.

Can you tell us a little about your road to publication?

“I had got to the stage where I got one request for full and a lot of nice rejections. Then I got a phone call on a miserable wet day in January 2013 informing me I’d been one of the winners of that year’s Irish Writers Centre Novel Fair.

“The Novel Fair was a bizarre and wonderful experience. You sit at a table and publishers and agents come around and you pitch and pitch and pitch. The timing meant there were quite a few World War One manuscripts and I thought, “Oh…footballboots,” but I got a request for full from O’Brien Press shortly afterwards, for their new Brandon imprint.

“I have immense respect for them. They aren’t hemmed in by concepts of ‘what it is to be Irish’ in literature. They look outward, not inward, and have the courage to publish books like Martine Madden’s Anyush, which I loved. In a risk-averse industry, they stay hungry. I admire that very much. And the time and attention given to my book during the editing and production and cover – I was really impressed.

‘White Feathers’ was shortlisted for Historical Romantic Novel 2015 - how important do you feel awards are for writing careers?

“Crucial, for confidence alone. When the book first came out I had some great feedback but it was hard to get recognition from the Irish literary scene. But being shortlisted among the last 30 of 850 entries for a UK award cannot be gainsaid by any Irish person. It was such a relief to have White Feathers honoured in that way.

“I felt vindicated, for my publisher and editor as well as myself. And to have the reader blogs, the lovely booksellers, and reviews reinforce that was so heartwarming. I really appreciate it, lovely people.

Do you have a typical writing process?

“I do most of my writing in the large study in the front of our flat. We currently live on one floor of a Victorian house so it’s high ceilinged with lots of light. I write weekends and evenings. Mornings are spent trying to get out the door and to work. I like bringing a coffee to my desk. Lavazza is nice!

You’re an active Twitter user and have your own website - how important do you think it is for writers to engage in digital activity around their work?

“Funny, I’m currently answering this question during a social media hiatus for Lent so am experiencing the other side of the coin. Twitter is great. I got an interview with Keelin Shanley on the Sean O’Rourke show because I @’ed in the wrong person in a Twitter conversation! Generally most of the interviews I’ve got since the first PR drive ended have been because of Twitter. It probably helps that I am quite opinionated and not afraid to be blunt.

“That said, in refraining from interaction, I learn of a power and self-respect that inheres when one removes oneself from the fray. Like I’m Lady Gregory standing in the doorway of Coole. But I have to confess that it’s lonely too. I miss Twitter!

What do you think of the emerging Irish writing talent - are we seeing an exciting time for Irish women writers in particular?

“I’m sceptical. Which women are we talking about here? Because I’ve seen Irish woman debut novelists endure insulting and derisive comments from compatriots – not because their work is poor but because they don’t have enough “connections”, so are easier prey. I’ve heard the testimony of women who because of their style or ethnic origin just keep meeting brick wall after brick wall in this country.

“All this while genre – and don’t forget that most women write and read genre – is still treated like a fart in a talcum-powdered bathroom even though it’s what everyone actually enjoys reading. And as for romance – well do not get me started on how the Irish literary establishment has treated romance. (Of course we have problems with sex in general, so no surprise there.)

“There's a very rarefied, literary strain of prose that gets a lot of kudos while many genre writers are ignored. I know they are ignored because they tell me so. This is not just a woman problem. This is a problem with fear, conservatism and a too-narrow concept of what fiction is.

“I enjoy reading a lot of individual works by Irish female authors, but there is no point celebrating Irishwomen’s literary excellence in toto if we’re going to exclude everyone who writes plot or didn’t go to college.

What piece of advice would you give any aspiring writer?

“Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good. Finishing a draft and getting Minimal Viable Product out there is more important. There’s this model called the Lean Startup which espouses that ideology.

“Finishing a story, completing the dramatic arc – these things make one confident. Failure is ironically less expensive than not finishing, so commit to one of your storylines and stick to it.

“(Unfortunately I failed to take my own advice. My novel took me three and a half years and that was before the edits!)

What do you read for pleasure?

“All sorts. I love reading other WWI stuff, especially Pat Barker, though there are many other wonderful books out there like A Long, Long Way. I’m currently reading The Circle by Dave Eggers which is interesting from an IT perspective. I recently finished Now and Then by William Corlett which is a beautiful, heartbreaking coming-of-age gay romance. I absolutely adored it. People in the Photo and Alone in Berlin are other examples of books that make me go “wow”.

“I also made a resolution to read more crime. Recently I’ve been reading some cracking Jane Casey and the wonderful debut from Jo Spain. And I can’t wait for Liz Nugent’s new novel in June. I’ve been reading The Long Gaze Back anthology of short stories and the latest collection from Rob Doyle.

“I get reviews from places like Goodreads and Margaret Madden’s Bleach House Library blog and other good sources. It was through Margaret I got a copy of The Life and Death of Sophie Stark, which was breathtakingly good.

“I like stuff with a bit of bite. Not too bland and easy, but not difficult for difficulty’s sake either.

What are you working on next?

“A novel set in the same universe as White Feathers but twenty years later and involving incipient invasion and a taboo romance! Can’t say any more!”

White Feathers is available for purchase on Amazon or direct from O’Brien Press.

Writing: I’m Giving Up for the New Year

It’s the New Year. It’s January. It’s bucketing down. The festive comedown is usually enough to drive me into a creative catatonia but for some reason I’m feeling differently this year. I feel a little more hopeful, a little fresher in the mind. Quietly brighter. Here’s why. In 2016, I’m giving up.

I’m giving up the do or die rhetoric surrounding the pursuit of writing, a life which seems to always be happening elsewhere.

I’m giving up guilt. When writing feels like an impossibility, we give up. When we give up, the work dies. When we give up, we feel guilty. When we feel guilty, the work dies.

I’m giving up pushing. Pushing with hands. Shoving with shoulder. The heavy door between you and your dreams. I’m going to sit down on the ground instead. And watch, and listen. Like you, I’m afraid. Afraid of missing a break. But life is a circle and everything comes round. Spring. Summer.

Bethany Dawson: “It Takes a Lot of Courage to Be a Writer” 

In my view, the most interesting author interviews are those that are charming, candid and inspire us to commit to a writing life under pressure. On all counts, our interview this week with Northern Irish writer Bethany Dawson doesn’t disappoint.

The author of acclaimed debut novel ‘My Father’s House’ talked to us about her love of words, writing in a dilapidated farmhouse in the Northern Irish countryside and courage in the face of rejection.

Tell us a little about yourself

“I am Northern Irish born and bred but I have lived in Dublin, Zimbabwe and South Africa. I spent three months living in a tent while my husband and I travelled around Sub-Saharan Africa. In a small but very well-stocked library in Lilongwe, Malawi, I filled my suitcase with Irish fiction and used it as a way of remembering where I came from. 

“Words are and always have been a very powerful force in my life. I am a passionate but slightly flakey person so while I have tried my hand at everything from pottery to jewellery making to tailoring my own clothes, writing has been the only creative endeavour to which I have been truly committed. Your debut novel, 'My Father's House' was published in 2013 and takes an elegant look at difficult family dynamics in rural Northern Ireland. What drew you to this topic?

“In my first year of marriage we lived in a dilapidated old farmhouse in Dromore, Co. Down. It’s hard to explain how much my physical surroundings impacted what My Father’s House became. I spent my days shivering in a little writing room on the first floor, trying to imagine the lives of the people who once lived in the house. 

“The characters in the novel emerged from there and I never quite got past writing about their complex relationships with one another. It is what I am most interested in exploring.

Can you tell us about your road to publication?

“I started writing my first novel during my undergraduate degree at the University of Ulster and completed it during my year at Trinity College when I did a Masters of Philosophy in Creative Writing. I secured an agent in Dublin and had high hopes of living the writerly dream. 

“Over the course of the next three years, 16 publishers rejected that novel. It was during these three years that I wrote My Father’s House. It was really hard to continue writing in the face of all that rejection but I powered on and the first publisher my agent submitted my second novel to accepted it. It was published the following year.

I'm always interested in the writing process of authors with busy lives - how would you describe yours?

“Since My Father’s House was published I have had two children and all my creative headspace has been channelled into making various shades of play dough and some pretty impressive indoor foxholes. 

“I am about to take part in National Novel Writing Month in November when I hope to write the first draft of a novel. I’m still trying to work out how to write during this season of my life. At the moment it’s little and not very often.

You're part of a wave of exciting new Irish writers, and women writers in particular. Who are your current favourites? 

“My absolute favourite is Belinda McKeon. I am reading her most recent novel, Tender, at the moment and really enjoying it.

What is your top piece of advice for any aspiring writer?

“It takes a lot of courage to be a writer. There are lots of reasons not to write but if you believe that it is what you are meant to do, do not let anything stop you. Create space to be inspired and see writing as a craft that will only improve with practice.

What are you working on currently?

“I have a moleskin notebook beside my bed with notes and ideas for my next novel. I am hoping that in November I will be able to give it some flesh and bones so watch this space.”

Top 10 Twitter Tips for Writers: How Not to Make a Hash of It 

I was delighted to have the opportunity recently to write in the Irish Times about how writers can use social media.

If you missed it, below is the article as it originally appeared. 

“In our digital age, social media and writers go together like chips and curry sauce, jam and doughnuts, or in some cases, nails and blackboards. Is the explosion in social media distracting writers from the serious business of writing, or is it a vital and exciting way to talk directly to readers?

“It’s hard to say for sure. Probably a little of both.

“However you view it, with the publishing industry in a race to adapt to rampant digital disruption, I believe writers must take ownership of their digital presence.

“Your readers are online and they’re looking for you. If you’re nervous about where to start, start with Twitter. There are almost 15 million Twitter users in the UK alone. Still nervous? Start with these tips.

1) Choose a username as close to your own name as you can find.

“I’ve lost count of the times I wanted to tweet an author but had to wade through a stream of tweets and accounts to find them, looking for @AMcWriter only to find her by the nom de plume @dostoevskystoenail or somesuch. Witty is good but clear is better. Don’t make readers struggle to find you.

2) For the same reason, use a headshot or clear photograph of yourself for your profile photo.

“It doesn’t help me find you if your profile picture is of a pug licking a cupcake. If you use multiple social accounts, keep your profile picture consistent across all channels. Again, it’s easier for people to identify you with the added benefit of making you instantly more human and relatable.

3) Stop using a horribly stretched and pixelated image as your Twitter header. It looks unprofessional.

“Twitter headers should be 1500px by 500px. Use a free design tool like Canva if you need to create a personal one, or search online for free stock libraries of Twitter headers. You wouldn’t print a book cover with a distorted image, so apply the same integrity to your digital work.

4) When it comes to actually tweeting, the best Twitter accounts mix your personality with the business of writing.

“The key here is balance. Tell us about the interesting things you’re doing and let us into your world, but realise using a social media channel involves a certain trade-off. Your Twitter account becomes a public representation of you. Keep deeply personal views and information to a minimum, unless you actively enjoy arguing with strangers on the internet.

5) Stop spamming us with tweets about your latest book.

“Self-promotion requires a careful mix. Social media accounts aren’t personal broadcast channels, they are conversation channels. If you were at drinks with friends, how much time would you spend with someone who only talked about themselves? Even worse, do you want to be that person? Of course not. By all means tweet once or twice a day about your work but show some restraint.

6) Share the love.

“Reading something great? Tell us in a tweet and include the author. Got a favourite blog? Share a link. Other writers and readers will be more inclined to support you and share your work if you do the same for them. You’ll make more friends and get more support this way. Similarly, if a reader tweets you to tell you how much they enjoy your work, take the time to respond, even if you’re doing something important, like drinking. Understand that someone is helping to build your brand and community by this simple act and treat it with the kindness and appreciation it deserves.

7) Think hashtags are annoying? Tough – they’re important tools to help you sift out like-minded people.

“The writing community has some incredibly popular hashtags that will help you find your readers and build out your followers. Some of the most popular include: #amreading, #amwriting, #amediting #fridayreads, among others. You should also put relevant hashtags in your bio. We can search accounts by hashtags too, you know.

8) Have you considered Twitter lists?

“Lists are a useful way to pull together accounts you like under categories. Even better, you don’t have to follow accounts to add them to lists, making them a handy way to keep tabs on interesting accounts without adding even more tweets to your timeline.

“You can make lists public or private, so you could monitor your rivals in a private list without giving them the satisfaction of a new follower. Or you could be more strategic and create a public list of book bloggers you’d like to interact with. Tipping a nod to someone’s influence may make them more inclined to support your work.

9) Go a step further and use Twitter analytics to see which tweets work and which don’t.

“It’s free and easy to access. Simply click on your profile image and select Analytics from the drop down menu. You’ll see a monthly breakdown of your tweets, with top tweets highlighted. This will give you an idea of whether you’re hitting the mark with your audience.

10) If you need inspiration, virtual chest bumps go to Irish writer Louise O’Neill, tweeting as @oneillo.

“In my opinion, Louise has one of the most charming Twitter accounts going. She doesn’t shy away from promoting her work but tempers it with fun and warmth, telling us just enough about her world. Take note.

“Whether you’re a new indie writer starting out or a grizzled old veteran with a marketing team, social media gives you the privilege to talk directly to the people who buy your books. In my opinion, that relationship is an important one that should remain between you and them, not to be outsourced.

(This article was originally published in the Irish Times.)

The Essential Irish Holiday Reading List

We’re off on our hollyers this week and naturally we’ve packed enough reading material to outfit a travelling library.

All Irish, all quality.

Thank you to everyone on Twitter who offered suggestions for new reading material.

Here goes:

Donal Ryan - ‘The Thing About December’

Catriona Lally - ‘Eggshells’

Colin Barrett - ‘Young Skins’

Anne Enright - ‘The Green Road’

Marian Keyes - ‘Last Chance Saloon’

The Note

My father drove a taxi for 27 years. 27 years of secrets and weirdness.

One night, he sat in his taxi, in the main square of the town. I think it was a Sunday. A sleepy evening in a slow place.

Suddenly, a woman raced across the street and approached the car, knocking furiously on the passenger window. He was alarmed. She was agitated.

She was mid-40s and looked ordinary enough but he didn’t recognise her, which was unusual. He knew everyone. He reluctantly wound down the window.

“Will you do a run for me please?” she asked. “I’ll pay you well for it.” She named a bigger town, not far away. Six miles or so. He started the engine, unlocking the door for her to get in. Before he could open it, she leaned in the window and held out a piece of paper.

“Will you take that to - ” and gave him an address, and a man’s name.

A note.

My father hesitated.

She was polite but distressed. Yes, yes, take this note please. Here’s money for your trouble. But make sure he gets it, won’t you?

On the drive, my father worried. What if it was bad news? Or a threat? What if the recipient got angry?

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up at the small, terraced house in the heart of the big town. A slightly run-down street. He got out of the car and stepped up to the door.

Knocking. Nothing.

Jesus, now what? Knocking again. No answer.

Cursing his involvement, my father moved to the window and peered in. A man peered back from the corner of the room.

Waving his hand, I didn’t order a taxi. Would you go away.

My father opened the note and pressed it to the glass. Pointed. This is for you, would you read it, for God’s sake.

The man came slowly to the window, warily. He stared at the paper for a few seconds, scanning. Ok. He raised his thumb. Ok.

My father got into the car and drove away.

I wait. Still waiting. I’m beside myself. Bloody hell - what was in the note?

“I never looked.”

Secrets and weirdness.

Anne Enright: “Ireland is my home, but I feel I have been trying to leave my whole life”

A new interview with Anne Enright by the Guardian reveals our first Irish laureate for fiction to be as warm, sharp and honest as ever.

“I love Ireland. It is my home, but you know, I sometimes feel I have been trying to leave all my life, and never made it. But I don’t know if writers ever are properly in the place where they live, they’re always in a slight state of exile.”

Read the full interview for Anne’s opinions on austerity, emigration, the family and more.

Christina McKenna: “Words and Images Have Remained My Twin Passions”

This month on the Irish Writing blog, we’re absolutely delighted to feature an interview with Irish author Christina McKenna, most known for her popular Tailorstown Trilogy, beautifully capturing the heartbreak, pathos and unexpected comedy of life in a rural Irish village.

Christina talked to us about how her upbringing influences her writing, why words became her escape and gives us her advice for aspiring writers.

Tell us a little about yourself

“I’m the seventh of nine children, raised on a farm near the village of Draperstown, County Derry. In my novels that village becomes Tailorstown. Mine was a traditional Catholic upbringing. My father worked the land while my mother toiled indoors. He was very serious and rather dour; she was a whirlwind of pragmatism and industry. She had to be because she was the one that held things together. She cooked, cleaned, was stressed most of the time but could be very funny. The character of Rose McFadden in the Tailorstown novels is based on her to some extent. 

“My childhood was full of fear and misery, but I could draw and I could write. I escaped into the worlds of language and colour and got lost and entranced by what I could do. My paintbrush and pen gave me a voice. Words and images have remained my twin passions to this day.

We met while you were teaching English! How/why did you make the decision to write full time?

“That position, teaching English and Art in St Louis, came to an end. I found myself ‘usefully’ unemployed. Instead of rushing immediately into another classroom I decided to pursue a lifelong yearning to write. 

“Once I put that thought out there, the universe rewarded me by making it all come true. 

“I spotted an advert for a creative writing course just over the border in County Louth, very close to lovely Warrenpoint, where I was living at that time.

“I completed the course over ten weeks and a year later married the writer David M Kiely, who had been the course leader. His encouragement was pivotal in my becoming an author. With fourteen books behind him he is not only my mentor but my editor, proofreader and cover designer to boot.

Can you tell us a little about your road to publication?

“It was a very rocky one, trekked under a blizzard of rejection slips. First for the memoir, which was finally picked up by a small publishing house in Scotland: then for my debut novel, ‘The Misremembered Man’. But I kept the faith, always believing that each rejection was their loss. 

“That certainly was the case with ‘The Misremembered Man’. The idea for it came to me in a very vivid dream. Next morning I felt compelled to sit down at the keyboard and the life and times of Jamie McCloone simply tumbled forth. I could not stop writing. Magical.

“Now, with over 4,000 reviews on Amazon, sales topping half-a-million and translations in seven languages, it has proven that the many publishing houses who turned it down got things massively wrong. 

“Never get too disheartened by rejection. All too often your MS will not even be properly read. Publishing houses receive so many, they can’t cope and simply run off a form letter. Don’t take it too personally is my advice.

Your debut publication was the powerful memoir, ‘My Mother Wore a Yellow Dress’. Was this a conscious choice over a fictional debut?

“Yes, of all the writing disciplines it’s the easiest place to start. You are writing about your own life and what you know. No imagination is required, only a good memory, truthful intent and a candid eye.

You’ve received widespread acclaim for your fiction series, the Tailorstown trilogy. How does the writing process differ for you when writing fiction?

“Writing fiction is most challenging of all. The fiction writer has to invent, concoct, explore and develop a cast of characters and situations, sustain the momentum for 300-odd pages, and make it all sound so plausible and interesting that readers will devote their time and attention to the work. 

“My aim is to entertain, enlighten and engage the reader on every single page. My rule of thumb: if I read over something I’ve written and my interest flags, or I feel the tiniest bit bored, I suspect the reader will feel that way too. Therefore, no matter how lovely that piece of writing might be, no matter how much time, effort and research I’ve invested in it, it has to go. You cannot afford to lose the reader. I cut, amend, draft and redraft mercilessly.  

Who are your favourite Irish writers? “John Banville, Elizabeth Bowen. Irish poets: Louis McNeice and Seamus Heaney.

What piece of advice would you give any aspiring writer?

“Whichever genre you choose to write in you must read the big hitters in that genre and learn from them. That’s the competition and that’s what you’re up against.

“When you’re not writing, read. Reading for me is as important as writing. Newspapers, magazines, internet, novels, poetry. I make notes and keep scrapbooks of strange or interesting features/articles. “Reading charges the creative battery – or what Poirot called the little grey cells!”

A massive thank you to Christina - be sure to visit her website here or her Amazon author page for her latest releases.

Six Pieces of Advice for Aspiring Writers from Author Amy Lynch

Writing is like sex. You’re never sure if you’re doing it right, and you have the vague sense everyone else knows more than you.

Same goes for getting published - how did he/she do it? How did they get an agent? How long did it all take?

Irish author Amy Lynch can teach us all a thing or two. Basking in the well-earned success of her debut novel, Bride Without a Groom, Amy took time out to give us six of the best - pieces of advice for aspiring writers, that is.

1) Persistence Pays Off Rejection is all part of the author experience, but if you really believe in yourself, and truly want to be published, don’t stop until you get a yes! Use criticism to improve, which is not easy.

2) Write Every Single Day Even if it’s only a half hour before bed, flex that writing muscle as often as you can, and it will come naturally. Stephen King recommends writing 1,000 words a day. This might seem like hard work if, like myself, you are juggling a day job and children, but if you enjoy writing it doesn’t feel like a chore.

3) Write Anywhere Write short stories for magazines. Seeing your name in print will be addictive, add to your repertoire, and boost your confidence.

4) Get an Agent This will hugely increase your chances of attracting a major publisher, as some do not accept unsolicited manuscripts. It will also help to have an agent at the negotiating stage.

5) Do It Yourself If you still have no luck, but want to show off what you can do, commission an amazing book cover, self-publish on Amazon, create some hype and get good reviews! This could impress a major publisher and land you a major book deal.

6) Don’t Stop While you’re waiting for your big break, keep writing. Once you get a book deal, it will be a good idea to have a back catalogue of other books, so that you can keep them coming!

‘Bride Without a Groom’ is available on Amazon.

Why Are You Writing?

Sometimes, it’s difficult to justify why you write what you write, even if no one else will ever read it and it’s your own, embarrassing secret.

Should you write for your reader, however imaginary? Should you write for your longed-for editor, or an agent you don’t have?

Should you write for a market? Many would say yes. I can see why.

Why then do I write only for myself?

I suppose it’s because I can write only what’s in my heart and my heart is populated by people. I’m writing my people.

The only thing better than reading your favourite Irish writer is getting the chance to grill them!

We’re delighted to talk exclusively to Irish author Amy Lynch about her debut novel, hear her honest account of her journey to publication and get her advice to aspiring writers. 

Tell us a little about yourself

I am an Irish author of humorous romantic women’s fiction, but not always with fairytale endings! I have been working in the charity sector for many years, am married and have two young children. When I'm not writing, I can be found on school runs, packing lunch boxes, tackling the laundry mountain and walking two large dogs who stare at me until I walk them. I think that's what you'd call multi-tasking!

My debut novel ‘Bride Without a Groom’ is a laugh out loud Bridezilla comedy, and will be published by Avon, Harper Collins in May 2015. I have published articles in Women’s Way, TV Choice Magazine, Sunday Times, and The Irish Examiner and I’m represented by literary agent, Frank Fahy.

Bride Without a Groom is your debut novel and getting great reviews already - tell us more about the story.

Single, coupled-up or married, this laugh-out-loud summer read is the perfect anecdote for the wedding season.

Rebecca has chosen the most luscious, five tiered, wedding cake. The engagement ring that she has selected is celebrity inspired. The wedding singer is on speed dial. 

There’s one teeny tiny problem. It’s nothing, really. No need to panic! It’s just that Barry has yet to propose. Says he’s not ready! He can be a bit of a kill joy that way.

I draw on personal experience when I write. I think that the cliché of ‘write what you know’ is correct, and for me, I know about relationships, weddings and babies – so these topics tend to feature heavily! I’m a bit of a magpie, taking funny stories that have happened to myself or friends, and then using them in my work. Like I tell my friends, “be careful, or you’ll end up in one of my novels!”

‘Bride Without A Groom’ is about a woman desperate to get married. It takes the word ‘Bridezilla’ to another level. When my long suffering husband and I were together for four years, I was quite insistent on getting married. The hints were flying around like you wouldn’t believe. I was the one accidentally-on-purpose directing him past jeweller’s windows and pointing frantically to the sparklers! Every weekend was spent at bridal showers and wedding fairs! 

Thankfully, I didn’t go to the extremes that Rebecca does in ‘Bride without a groom’, such as booking a honeymoon before a proposal! However, I’ll be honest and admit that I had the poor man’s head well and truly melted, so I guess you could say this is where the idea for the first novel began.

Rebecca is a challenging character - what was your motivation when developing her?

As a child, I loved challenging, dramatic characters, and found them great fun to act out. There was always a spoilt, bossy Barbie doll in my games. I may have been exposed to excess daytime TV such as Dallas and Knotts Landing, it could explain a lot!

I found Rebecca, the main character, fun to develop. She’s a woman on a mission, and this meant that there were many comedic possibilities! Although Rebecca is demanding, there is also a softer side to her. She adores animals and is a good friend. It was important to me that the reader really understands that she genuinely loves Barry, and vice versa.  

Rebecca has such a strong personality and a very loud voice – writing her stories comes easily to me. She whispers funny ideas at midnight when I’m falling asleep,and I jot them down with a pen and pad on my bedside locker, because she won’t simmer down until I do.

 In between laundry piles, school runs and a full day in the office, I find time for writing before collapsing into bed. Sometimes I wonder if Rebecca lives inside my brain, dictating the manuscript to me, and I am just her exhausted typist. To me, it is as if she is a real person.

What was your journey to publication?

It was a long, tough journey – I’m sure that this is something that all writers can relate to. I am quite a determined person, so I was really persistent.

Writing comes easily to me, and is something I enjoy. It is something I find time for in a busy, working-mum day. As the old phrase goes, “find a job you love, and you’ll never work again.” For me that job is writing, and although it takes up a lot of my time, it doesn’t feel like work.

Somewhere along the way, writing turned from a hobby to a passion. It’s something I do every day, even if it’s only half an hour between making the children’s school lunch and watching Eastenders. I love it! Sometimes, I feel that if I don’t get a funny line or a clever idea down on paper, I’ll forget it. This explains the notebooks lying about the house, in my purse, bedside locker, and glove-box of my car!

The first step in the journey was to join a creative writing class – this was to build up confidence in sharing my work and to learn from constructive criticism. Then, I wrote short stories for magazines to build up my exposure. I knew that I’d stand a far greater chance at getting my novels published if I secured a literary agent, so I persisted until finally one said that he would take a chance on me! 

We self-published ‘Bride Without A Groom’ to build up reviews and show the publishers that we meant business! Months later, I signed a book deal with Harper Collins – it’s the most exciting time of my life. 

I think we’re always a little curious as to what a writer’s process is. How would you describe a typical writing session, particularly with family and other work demands?

I started writing at school, when a teacher really encouraged me. She once gave me a fancy notebook and said “You have a lot to say, Amy, you should write it down.”

Then again, I was a chatterbox and she might have been telling me to be quiet. This teacher would ask me to stand in front of the class and read my short stories aloud.

When the class laughed at the funny bits, I got a real kick from that.

I’ve taken several creative writing courses in the evenings, it’s a great way to develop skills and build confidence in yourself as a writer. Being able to share your work is often frightening, as many writers are their own worst critic. After a couple of years attending writing classes, I sent a few short stories off to various magazines. 

Seeing my name in print was a thrill, and quite addictive. Mum and I bought copies of the magazines and showed them to everyone!

I give myself four months to thrash out a first draft, and then three months to edit. The plot and chapter plan comes first – these are the bones which are later fleshed out.  

My schedule is quite strict – writing every single day is important. Flex that creative muscle as often as you can, and it will become second nature. For me, eight o’clock in the evening is writing time. The kids are asleep and the house is quiet. My husband is very supportive. If I’m trying to finish a chapter on the weekend, he’ll sometimes take the kids off to the playground, and come back an hour later to find a more relaxed me! 

That’s why the dedication reads: “To Eoin. Sorry about all the burnt dinners, darling. As you can see, I’ve been a little busy…”

I’m a big believer that digital technology and the internet is a massive opportunity for writers. Do you agree? Do you use social media and digital in your own writing career?

Digital marketing is so important, and I’ve learned that being an author is not just about writing books! Authors are now expected to participate in the promotion of the book, using social media. 

I have recently started to use twitter @AmyLynchAuthor as a way to link myself to other writers, publishers,book lovers and reviewers. It’s a whole new world, and I find it a fun way to network. I have an author page on Facebook, which is a great way to keep people up to date with events and have also set up a website.

Who are your favourite Irish writers?

I’m a huge fan of the Irish author Claudia Carroll, who is also with Avon, Harper Collins. I reached out to her for advice, when I was trying to get a literary agent, and was getting rejections left right and centre. 

She really took me under her wing, even writing the blurb for ‘Bride Without a Groom’, which appears on the paperback cover. It reads ‘Fantastic! Punchy, full of energy,exactly the kind of book I’d take on holidays with me.’ 

I was so grateful for her help, and she was just as lovely in person when we met at her book launch recently.

I also enjoy Sinead Moriarty, who also writes funny books.

What do you think about the new Irish writers coming through - are we seeing an exciting time for Irish women writers in particular?

The great thing about Irish women writers is that they seem to support each other, helping new authors up the ladder and into the world of publishing. One day, I’d like to repay the favour, and coach someone who is talented but finding it tough to break in.

Ireland has so much talent to offer, especially literary talent. It’s an exciting time for readers and authors alike.

What do you read for pleasure?

I just finished ‘Me and my sisters’ by Sinead Moriarty, which was a fun, light read. I picked up a signed copy of Claudia Carroll’s twelfth book ‘Meet Me In Manhattan’ at her book launch last week, and can’t wait to dive in. I mostly read when I’m in Spain – we go with the kids every summer.

Give us your top piece of advice for aspiring writers!

1) Persistence pays off! Rejection is all part of the author experience, but if you really believe in yourself, and truly want to be published, don’t stop until you get a yes! Use criticism to improve, which is not easy.

2) Write every single day – even if it’s only a half hour before bed. Flexthat writing muscle as often as you can, and it will come naturally. Stephen King recommends writing 1,000 words a day. This might seem like hard work if, like myself, you are juggling a day job and children, but if you enjoy writing it doesn’t feel like a chore.

3) Write short stories for magazines. Seeing your name in print will be addictive, add to your repertoire, and boost your confidence.

4) Get an agent. This will hugely increase your chances of attracting a major publisher, as some do not accept unsolicited manuscripts! It will also help to have an agent at the negotiating stage!

5) If you still have no luck, but want to show off what you can do,commission an amazing book cover, self-publish on Amazon, create some hype and get good reviews! This could impress a major publisher and land you a major book deal.

6) While you’re waiting for your big break, keep writing. Once you get a book deal, it will be a good idea to have a back catalogue of other books, so that you can keep them coming!

What are you working on next?

I am editing the next book in the series, ‘Does My Bump Look Big In this?’, where we see Rebecca coming to terms with becoming a mother. There will be a third book in the series also.

A big thank you to Amy for squeezing this interview into her already mad schedule and we wish her the best of luck with Bride Without a Groom.

Follow Amy on Twitter, her Facebook page, or take a browse through her website.

Fat Cherry Blossoms

A walk around the block. A turn. A dander.

We dander slowly, taking me for a walk like a beloved, ageing pet. Take her out for a turn.

Down the long garden, onto the road. Look into the sun, the roasty-red ball, singeing the blue. Bleeding orange and pink. As I did.

We turn onto Wardle Road. On our turn. Fat cherry blossoms, heavy-hanging low to look as we pass slowly and carefully underneath. I stand under the boughs and look up. Big pink cloudballs.

Have you ever noticed that white house before? Me neither. This turn is taking an interesting turn. How little we notice. Until you go slowly. Carefully.

Red bricks glow in the light. The roasty-red ball is falling down. Look, have you ever seen that man before? A woman cycles past and smiles. Everyone unfurls in the early spring.

White magnolias are opening like a man’s fist dying. Petals drop. Heavy petal.

The smell is coolgreen, of gardens opening up. New dampness and old leaves.

Look now at the sky, massive and empty. Clear blue like a perfectly-pitched note, fading pink round the edge. White plane puffs carve straight across, like cuts to a stomach. Looks sore. It is.

Our turn ends back at the long garden. Tomorrow, we’ll dander again. Still so much to be noticed.

My Fish Publishing Short Memoir 2015 Longlisted Story

Delighted to announce that I’ve been longlisted in this year’s Fish Publishing Short Memoir Prize!

Some way to go before joining the ranks of our greatest Irish Women Writers but certainly a step.

I’m publishing the story in full below - take a read and do let me know what you think, I’d love to hear from you.

Ciara

‘Five Things That Terrified Me About Visiting My Grandparents’

It’s dark, dank and smells like wet wood and soil. The bare bulb barely gives off enough light to see the door, even though the whole place is no bigger than a cupboard. In the damp gloom, I’m on the highest cardiac alert, every touch the malevolent tickle of a spider or other beastie, dangling from the ceiling and grinning in at me from around the old wooden door. What’s actually unthinkable is what’s underneath, waiting to bite my poor bare arse as it hovers above the dark hole of my grandparents’ dry toilet, at the end of an unlit yard surrounded by fields, in the black of the Co. Armagh night.

It doesn’t sound like it, but this was actually a privilege – the privilege of big girls. It wasn’t too long before this that needing to answer nature’s call while visiting my father's family involved the brightly-lit yard of the house, a bucket and a vigorous shaking by my aunt Margaret. Once I was deemed old enough to walk down the yard without falling into the rain bucket, destroying the lettuces or stumbling under a passing train I was graced with permission to use the dry toilet while the grownups chatted.

Although I appreciated the achievement of having earned these particular stripes, I would hold on for a lifetime before admitting the need to go, waiting until the Robinson’s barley squash forced the issue. The thought of leaving the lights of the house, creeping across the lane and then streaking like an alarmed cat down the narrow yard with silent sheds one one side and deeply dark fields on the other was not a comfortable one. This is one of the five things that terrified me about visiting my father’s parents in Armagh.

The family home was a small cottage that belonged to Northern Ireland Railways and had housed my father and his six brothers and sisters, plus my grandmother and grandfather. There was a small but lovely and immaculately-kept cottage garden to the right of the front door, which was about three feet from the back door, both doors being confusingly on the same side of the building. Space was a luxury. The house was tiny, a kitchen, living room and two rooms for sleeping. I believe my father and the four other boys shared one room and the two girls slept in the bed with my grandparents. An indoor bathroom was installed in the much later years. Growing up, they had no running water or electricity. My grandmother cooked and cleaned for nine with water from the canal. She was quite a terrifying figure in my childhood but having lived through such toil, it’s not hard to see why. I can appreciate this now as an adult. As a child, she was scary as hell.

Every month or so growing up, it would be announced that we were visiting granny and granddad and into the car we’d go, my older brother, my parents and myself. Herein lay the second thing that scared me about the visit; the journey.

As a child, I couldn’t be driven more than a mile without needing to fling myself from the back seat to heave into a hedge, while my mother advised cheerily from the car window that it was ‘all in my head.’ It wasn’t – it was there all over the hedge. Car sickness blighted every journey of my childhood, and quite a few of everyone else’s. Factor in a longish drive from our house in Warrenpoint, Co Down, tight country roads and some frenzied defensive driving from my father, and you’ve got yourself a date with a hedge. Often I’d arrive, white and trembling, just in time to get my mother berated by Granny. “THE CHILD WON’T EAT ANNE; WHY WON’T THE CHILD EAT?’

The third thing that scared me about visiting my grandparents is also journey related. It’s the physical terrain of the drive. Warrenpoint to the nearest large town, Newry, was fine. Dual carriageway the whole way and nice, ordinary roads. Beezer. I was used to travelling this road while being taken on shopping trips. Casual gawping could be done. But passing through Newry and making the crossover from the nice big two-lane roads to increasing greenery and decreasing road quality as we crossed counties into Armagh made my stomach heave.

Tractors and cars dualled for right of way and quite often that way would be barred by some sheep on a hooly from one field to another, being whooped along by men with a relaxed approach to deadlines. My father’s country code died hard and he’d resentfully turn the engine off as the sheep ambled disinterestedly around the car. A sheep’s woolly, dark arse is quite a thing to behold at close range. Do you know what ‘clag’ is? Ask my father. Also ‘tartles’. Worst of all, though, was the turn onto the Canal Bank itself, where the house was. Although this signified the end of the journey and the sweet relief of setting one’s feet on non-moving ground, it did mean driving along the canal’s edge without so much as a piece of string to prevent cars plummeting off the edge and being swallowed up by the reptilian water, which my father swears is bottomless. I would hold my breath, along with my belly, in the back of the car as my father negotiated the last stretch of tiny road. The journey done, I was about to face the fourth thing that terrified me about visiting my grandparents in Armagh.

Now this is a difficult one to admit to, but the fourth thing I was terrified of was my family there. These family members are alive and well, and are probably reading this with justified affrontery. My father’s family are perfectly nice, ordinary people and I’m quite sure this fear was born out of my chronic childhood timidity. They were just...well, they were country, and my brother and I were undeniably townie.

There are important differences between country people and townies. Townies are soft, unschooled and frig all use when it comes to the brisk business of the country. You couldn’t rely on a townie to operate a fingerbar mower or wring a chicken’s neck without weeping and gagging. My country cousins had, or so it seemed to me, a total and natural confidence. They were cute, canny and grown up. Granted, I was the youngest, but these kids seemed wise beyond belief. They could drive tractors, talk authoritatively about animals and scathingly explain one type of leaf from another to a dope like me. They were mini adults and I was cowed into embarrassed silence by them.

My grandfather was a quiet man which made me warm to him, as he rarely demanded I eat the sandwiches and didn’t interrogate me as to why I was bothering to go to school. He had rosy, round cheeks and little blue eyes full of good nature. I’m dying to say they were twinkling. His favourite trick was to poke his dentures out at me, the grandad prerogative that’s been entertaining children since, well, whenever dentures were invented. He took a back seat in most discussions, which were driven by my grandmother, aunt Margaret and my mother. It wouldn’t take long until my father would drift away, trackable only by the jackknifing firefly of his cigarette, as he bent to inspect the dash of any nearby car or silently browsed the old sheds.

My grandmother was monumentally intimidating. I’ve mentioned what was at the root of this flintiness but as a child I had no context, simply fear. I was shy and she was hard. I wouldn’t eat anything other than Marie biscuits, I read books and generally wasn’t much use. She was entirely consumed with practicalities, having lived a life of unrelenting hard work. We couldn’t get each other’s drift at all. I was quite relieved to wriggle away after some scrutiny to roam the yard, avoid my cousins and play with whatever pets were knocking about at the time that hadn’t disappeared under a train. (Note: without exception, they all did eventually).

The fifth and most ultimately terrifying thing about visiting my grandparents in Armagh was long, black and curved like a rotten big snake for miles. It took the life of any animals they had over the years, and some of the neighbours too. The worst thing about this monster was that you had to confront it to actually get to my grandparents house, like some old fairytale monster. I’m of course talking about the Dublin to Belfast railway.

The railway connects Connolly Station in Dublin with Belfast Central station in the north. My grandfather worked on the railway, hence the family living in the cottage. My grandmother had a job to do also, opening the gates for cars coming up the lane. This my father still resents, the thought of his mother leaving one of her 1,000 chores of the day to answer the beep of a horn outside. Who could blame him? To reach the house from the Canal Bank road, you had to actually cross the railway itself. Why the line was traversed by an access lane I don’t know, but having survived the journey, dry-heaved right on schedule and yet to need the outside toilet, I had to face this next fear.

Getting out of the car, I’d be struck by the sheer silence. Feet to the right lay the slick, waiting canal and beyond that green fields to the horizon. To the left lay the railway, then the cottage. In the summer, it could be scampered across relatively safely, my primary fear being myself or a loved on catching their foot in a sleeper and watching as their certain, messy death chugged towards them. (Ever watched Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe?) On a clear day the railway could be viewed pretty fully in either direction. However, crossing on a dark evening in winter left me petrified. I would hare across the sleepers and anxiously hustle everyone else along. I recall a particularly cold night in the dark where the frost glinting on the rails incited hysteria in me, as I pictured myself slipping under the grinding wheels of a train. My mother wasn’t getting the picture fast enough, forcing me to grab her hand and drag her to safety. She was surprisingly unappreciative of this heroism.

Once inside, the crossing ordeal was over but even as I got older, I still hated the noise and fury of a passing train. Teacups clinking and the fire hissing, we’d be sitting talking when the first rumble could be heard in the distance. I would instantly feel dread in the stomach. As we heard all about Mrs Brennan’s gallstones or the price that Dessie McAleenan got for the back fields, the rumbling sound grew and a buzz would begin to be felt in the floor and the furniture. It was like Jurassic Park. The rumble and buzz built, and still my grandmother sat there, serenely nattering on. Where was my father? I’d wonder anxiously. What if his boot is caught in a rail? The most terrifying of occasions would see me peering out the small side window and catching him languorously hanging off the gate right next to the railway, smoking and coolly watching the train’s advance.

The final thundering approach was powerful and amazing, the sound reverberating in the bones in my head and chest. The unholy double beat of the rails, the flashing of the windows, the size of the bloody thing, its closeness to the tiny house. Then gone, and it was almost painful to have the pressure suddenly lifted, like shooting up through the ocean too quickly. I’d turn back to the room. “And didn’t he say, ‘I did but sure the dog got there first!” followed by raucous laughter. They hadn’t skipped a beat.

My mother can tell you a good one about the first time she went to visit the house before she married my father, and he’d neglected to warn her of the railway. It was so familiar to him, he simply didn’t notice it anymore. When a train crashed past, she almost fell off the sofa in shock, thinking a spinning vortex to hell was opening under her. My father’s family watched her in grim amusement, one word on their collective mind. Townie.

Towards the end of my grandmother’s life, when I was 17, we visited when she was in bed, dying of cancer. I was told to go into her room and sit with her. I didn’t quite grasp why at the time. It felt strange, being in her bedroom and sitting on her bed. Rarely was I allowed into this private part of the tiny house and even more rarely were we alone together. This was probably the only time ever.  

She called me by another cousin’s name and and mumbled a few things I didn’t understand. I was looking out of the window and thinking that I had never seen the yard from this angle before when she looked at me and asked, “Am I going to die?” I said, “You’re going to be all right. All. Right.” I patted her hand. She seemed satisfied. That was the last time I saw her alive.