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FROM IRISH LOCKDOWN TO TRANSATLANTIC LAUNCH PARTY

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    Yesterday was The Transatlantic Book Club 's US and Canadian publication day, the launch of the fourth Finfarran novel published there by HarperPerennial. Normally I'd have been dressing up and setting off for a celebratory party with hugs and kisses and glasses of wine and much posing for photographs and signing of readers' copies. But this is 2020 and I'm in Ireland, where right now we're all living in lockdown, unable even to visit family members and confined to a radius of 5 measly kilometers from our homes. I'm also at the very end of the Dingle Peninsula, so - while a 5 kilometer radius offers some of Ireland's most glorious mountains and long, deserted beaches - it's not exactly thronging with cheering Finfarran fans. So I'd resigned myself to a phone conversation or two, emails from my agents and publisher and a bit of tweeting. Which would have been fine. But instead - because I have the best and kindest readers in the world - I had a b

The Rythms of Life in Lockdown London

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Last September our TV signal went down. We’d just travelled from Ireland to London, where settling into our two room flat normally takes five minutes. Boiler on, yep we’ve got hot water. Fingers crossed, deep breath, phew, the broadband’s still working. Stick a pizza in the oven and watch an episode of Taskmaster . Totally normal. But that night, we had a crisis. An ominous blank, black TV screen.  I should explain that our two rooms are in an inner-city block, part of a former jam factory with an eighty- foot, redbrick chimney that says HARTLEY in huge white tiles. In Ireland, our stone house - two rooms again, plus a dodgy back kitchen - is up the side of a mountain in the West Kerry Gaeltacht. It has a compost bin, ridges for growing spuds in the front garden and apple trees, fuchsia hedges and gooseberry bushes round the back. Anyway, there we were in London with no TV signal and, since I’m talking Freeview, with no chance of finding a human being to set us rig

It's Perfectly Okay Not To Be Shakespeare

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Here's one of my occasional writing tips. I hope those of you who aren't writers will find it helpful too. As more and more people are required to stay at home, for the sake of our own health and others', we're increasingly being exhorted to take this time to be creative. "Write a diary!", people say; or "here's your chance to start that novel"; or "why not take up a new hobby?; or "Shakespeare used downtime during the plague to write King Lear, you know!" Well, yes, that was what Shakespeare did, but a/ he was a brilliant, professional playwright and b/ he and his contemporaries were accustomed to the frequent, localised, bouts of plague that disrupted their lives and work and closed London's theatres. Most of us are neither of those things so, personally, I'd forget about using Shakespeare as a role model. Instead, I'd suggest this. In these unprecedented times, many of us may be helpe

Are you sure you're Editing?

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You know how, when you’re writing something, you go over it time and again, re-reading, changing and cutting it? Some people love this process and find it energising. Others get confused feel it’s a kind of required self-censorship which drags flights of fancy down to earth.  “Editing” and “doing an edit” are terms sometimes used for this process, in writers’ groups, masterclasses and on social media. But, in my view, choosing a different term might be helpful. First things f irst.  The primary definition of “edit” is “to prepare written material for publication”. Secondary definitions are “be editor of (a newspaper or magazine) – eg ‘he edited the New Yorker’”, and, as a noun, “a change or correction made as a result of editing – eg ‘the edits required considerable time’.”  So, here are some thoughts. 1/ Unless you’re certain that what you’re writing WILL BE and IS READY TO BE, published, it’s actually not appropriate to think about “editing” it. 2/

YOU'RE ALL INVITED TO A BOOK LAUNCH

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My Irish publishers Hachette are bringing out my fifth Finfarran novel on May 2nd and the  Gutter Bookshop in Dublin is hosting its launch, with drinks provided by my lovely West Kerry neighbours, The Dingle Whiskey Distillery. So here's an invitation to join the celebration. Do, please, come along if you're in Dublin on May10th.  Writing the Finfarran novels is always a joy but this one is special because its plot came about by sheer happenstance. A few years ago, in a gift shop, I picked up a birthday card with the caption ‘My book club can beat up your book club'. A lady beside me had spotted it too and we got chatting. The card had caught her eye, she said, because she was a member of "Ireland’s only Skype book club", hosted by her rural local library and a public library in Peoria, Illinois, USA.  Months later, when I was chatting to my agent about possible plots for the next Finfarran novel, it struck me that a book club based in two co