Only TWO!! more sleeps to the launch of ‘His Name Is Rebecca.’! Really looking forward to it, Rebecca is a very, very special human being – actually I think she might be an angel in disguise - and I hope the book does well for her. She thinks I’m the Virgin Mary in drag so together we make a formidable team!
This will be a guna nua event and much to the horror of my female relatives and friends I have it down to a choice between two outfits, one from Dunnes for 20 euro or one from Littlewoods for 49 euro. It would be against my personal religion to spend cash on a fancy guna I’ll only wear once. They’re both cheaper than my wedding dress was (59 euro – TK Maxx). And if they all don’t stop nagging me about it I’ll turn up in me velour tracksuit – so CIUNAS!!(I can't do fadas on this keyboard)
Now I went a bit mad on the shoes and have it down to three pairs all under 40 euro cheapest pair were 4 euro in Dunnes – but too high I think - very very sexy though. What is it about shoes, why do we love them so much?
If ye are about Dublin on Thursday evening stick your head into the Bellini Bar in the Burlington and say hi. Alternately buy the book and let me know what you think. In shops from Wednescday 1st or from poolbeg.com or Amazon. I’ll blog about the night when it is all settled down.
I am inordinately proud of both Rebecca and myself. Pat on the back to us both. We rock!!!!!!!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
GOD came to fighting words!!!!!!!1
Those of you who know me know how I rave about Carlo Gebler's teaching skills, so much so that he is referred to as God in our house! I did a workshop with him at Listowel Writers Week in 2009 and I have never, ever seen anyone control a room better. He focuses intensely on each participant and gently suggests changes or methods one can apply to ones writing. So I was delighted when I arrived at fightingwords.ie to do my week's volunteering for the teenage fiction writing summer camp to find that Carlo was one of the guest facilitators.
He had those young people eating out of his hand and the amount of raw energy and talent in that room was unreal. We may all give up writing folks (not that we will as it's addictive)the next wave of writers are bright bold and sassy and most of them know exactly what they want from Life. I didn't know what I wanted to be when I grew up until I was in my forties. I always admire those who dedicate themselves to their passion/art/whatever (once it's non-chemical) at a young age, before the needs of feeding and clothing a family become imperative that one earn's a living in some other way.
When I was at the age those lovely kids in Fighting Words are today my life map was a as follows
1. Get a job, any job - college wasn't a runner in a cash strapped Ireland for the oldest child of a family of seven kids whose mother was a part-time shop assistant and whose father was a regular pounding the beat Garda.
2. Find a fella I could get on with - that was hard for me, my body shape and intellect and general bossiness kept the boys away. I was also painfully shy and self-aware around men. Yiz just make me nervous, lads.But then I met a mountainy man from Donegal, my big gentle Jemser - AND HE LOVED ME. ME!
3. Have a bit of fun drinking and gallivanting.
4. Read a million books
5. Buy a house in suburbia and have my babies. Stop reading anything more than thrillers and easy reads for a couple of years
6. Start reading another million books
7. Take an evening class and find writing sitting there waiting for me, like walking into a room where suddenly everyone is speaking the same language as me. They understand what I'm saying.
8. Now I have the menopause and death to look forward to - but I'll happily write my way through those two.
Now these sassy lovely, lovely, talented youngsters have a huge range of options open to them. I hope each and every one of them finds there 'thing' whatever it is that makes them happy, gives them a reason to get up in the morning and greet the day.
'Gwan ye good tings
He had those young people eating out of his hand and the amount of raw energy and talent in that room was unreal. We may all give up writing folks (not that we will as it's addictive)the next wave of writers are bright bold and sassy and most of them know exactly what they want from Life. I didn't know what I wanted to be when I grew up until I was in my forties. I always admire those who dedicate themselves to their passion/art/whatever (once it's non-chemical) at a young age, before the needs of feeding and clothing a family become imperative that one earn's a living in some other way.
When I was at the age those lovely kids in Fighting Words are today my life map was a as follows
1. Get a job, any job - college wasn't a runner in a cash strapped Ireland for the oldest child of a family of seven kids whose mother was a part-time shop assistant and whose father was a regular pounding the beat Garda.
2. Find a fella I could get on with - that was hard for me, my body shape and intellect and general bossiness kept the boys away. I was also painfully shy and self-aware around men. Yiz just make me nervous, lads.But then I met a mountainy man from Donegal, my big gentle Jemser - AND HE LOVED ME. ME!
3. Have a bit of fun drinking and gallivanting.
4. Read a million books
5. Buy a house in suburbia and have my babies. Stop reading anything more than thrillers and easy reads for a couple of years
6. Start reading another million books
7. Take an evening class and find writing sitting there waiting for me, like walking into a room where suddenly everyone is speaking the same language as me. They understand what I'm saying.
8. Now I have the menopause and death to look forward to - but I'll happily write my way through those two.
Now these sassy lovely, lovely, talented youngsters have a huge range of options open to them. I hope each and every one of them finds there 'thing' whatever it is that makes them happy, gives them a reason to get up in the morning and greet the day.
'Gwan ye good tings
GOD came to fighting words!!!!!!!1
Those of you who know me know how I rave about Carlo Gebler's teaching skills, so much so that he is referred to as God in our house! I did a workshop with him at Listowel Writer's week in 2009 and I have never, ever seen anyone control a room better. He focuses intensely on each participant and gently suggests changes or methods one can apply to one's writing. So I was delighted when I arrived at fightingwords.ie to do my week's volunteering for the teenage fiction writing summer camp to find Carlo was one of the guest facilitators.
He had those young people eating out of his hand and the amount of raw energy and talent in that room was unreal. We may all give up writing folks (not that we will as it's addictive)the next wave of writers are bright bold and sassy and most of them know exactly what they want from Life. I didn't know what I wanted to be when I grew up until I was in my forties. I always admire those who dedicate themselves to their passion/art/whatever (once it's non-chemical) at a young age, before the needs of feeding and clothing a family become imperative that one earn's a living in some other way.
When I was at the age those lovely kids in Fighting Words are today my life map was a as follows
1. Get a job, any job - college wasn't a runner in a cash strapped Ireland for the oldest child of a family of seven kids whose mother was a part-time shop assistant and whose father was a regular pounding the beat Garda.
2. Find a fella I could get on with - that was hard for me, my body shape and intellect and general bossiness kept the boys away. I was also painfully shy and self-aware around men. Yiz just make me nervous, lads.But then I met a mountainy man from Donegal, my big gentle Jemser - AND HE LOVED ME. ME!
3. Have a bit of fun drinking and gallivanting.
4. Read a million books
5. Buy a house in suburbia and have my babies. Stop reading anything more than thrillers and easy reads for a couple of years
6. Start reading another million books
7. Take an evening class and find writing sitting there waiting for me, like walking into a room where suddenly everyone is speaking the same language as me. They understand what I'm saying.
8. Now I have the menopause and death to look forward to - but I'll happily write my way through those two.
Now these sassy lovely, lovely, talented youngsters have a huge range of options open to them. I hope each and every one of them finds there 'thing' whatever it is that makes them happy, gives them a reason to get up in the morning and greet the day.
'Gwan ye good tings
He had those young people eating out of his hand and the amount of raw energy and talent in that room was unreal. We may all give up writing folks (not that we will as it's addictive)the next wave of writers are bright bold and sassy and most of them know exactly what they want from Life. I didn't know what I wanted to be when I grew up until I was in my forties. I always admire those who dedicate themselves to their passion/art/whatever (once it's non-chemical) at a young age, before the needs of feeding and clothing a family become imperative that one earn's a living in some other way.
When I was at the age those lovely kids in Fighting Words are today my life map was a as follows
1. Get a job, any job - college wasn't a runner in a cash strapped Ireland for the oldest child of a family of seven kids whose mother was a part-time shop assistant and whose father was a regular pounding the beat Garda.
2. Find a fella I could get on with - that was hard for me, my body shape and intellect and general bossiness kept the boys away. I was also painfully shy and self-aware around men. Yiz just make me nervous, lads.But then I met a mountainy man from Donegal, my big gentle Jemser - AND HE LOVED ME. ME!
3. Have a bit of fun drinking and gallivanting.
4. Read a million books
5. Buy a house in suburbia and have my babies. Stop reading anything more than thrillers and easy reads for a couple of years
6. Start reading another million books
7. Take an evening class and find writing sitting there waiting for me, like walking into a room where suddenly everyone is speaking the same language as me. They understand what I'm saying.
8. Now I have the menopause and death to look forward to - but I'll happily write my way through those two.
Now these sassy lovely, lovely, talented youngsters have a huge range of options open to them. I hope each and every one of them finds there 'thing' whatever it is that makes them happy, gives them a reason to get up in the morning and greet the day.
'Gwan ye good tings
Monday, August 23, 2010
It's all go...........
Life has become a little frenetic and will be over the next fortnight or so. I'm helping out in Fighting Words this week , running around getting school books, uniforms (free education me eye!) and then getting all pepped up for the launch of 'His Name Is Rebecca' next week. The launch is in the Bellini Bar of the Burlington at 6.30pm, Sept 2nd - pop in if you're in town, it should be a good night - lots of little surprises lined up. I really hope this book goes well for Rebecca - she deserves huge credit for being brave enough to tell her story and then coping with all the publicity and media stuff that will go with it. Rebecca rocks!
Then I was longlisted for two comps for two of my stories - that's always nice, that little boost telling you you're on the right path.`I spent a delightful hour or two in Charlie Byrnes bookshop in Galway when we drove down to read the longlist for one competition. What a find! I could happily spend hours in it - except I'd bankrupt the family!
I had to go shopping for a guna and girly shoes for the launch - I dread shopping because I'm such a big heap and I refuse to spend what my female friends call 'real money' on something I will only wear once. So I got two outfits from which I will choose on the night plus the shoes for the grand total of €89 - low maintenance woman, me!The Late Late show has been confirmed so I can wear the second guna to that. Hope they have good prizes for the audience that night!
Then I was longlisted for two comps for two of my stories - that's always nice, that little boost telling you you're on the right path.`I spent a delightful hour or two in Charlie Byrnes bookshop in Galway when we drove down to read the longlist for one competition. What a find! I could happily spend hours in it - except I'd bankrupt the family!
I had to go shopping for a guna and girly shoes for the launch - I dread shopping because I'm such a big heap and I refuse to spend what my female friends call 'real money' on something I will only wear once. So I got two outfits from which I will choose on the night plus the shoes for the grand total of €89 - low maintenance woman, me!The Late Late show has been confirmed so I can wear the second guna to that. Hope they have good prizes for the audience that night!
Monday, August 16, 2010
Exceptional Inception
I took two ten year olds to see ‘Inception’ over the weekend. I won’t pretend that I understood it all, it moved too quickly for me most of the time but the kids thought it was brilliant and it kept my attention for the whole - which is something that happens rarely for me with visual media. It was ‘Dallas’ that first caused my disenchantment with television in the Eighties. The characters were so wooden and unbelieveable, so far from my daily life that I couldn’t relate to them. Yet I had no problem relating to characters in modern plays or novels of the period. Occasional dramatizations of great writing like Paul Scott’s Raj quartet or the magnificent Brideshead Revisited I watched, I enjoyed some of the British soaps of the time, mainly so I could join in canteen chat the following day but Glenroe and the Riordans didn’t relate to my suburban life either, although I recognised the characters in them, or rather the character types.
I realise of course that televison has replaced religion as ‘the opium of the people’ and like organised churches most ‘shows’ are mere marketing tools designed to wheedle money from one’s pocket or purse. The lowest common denominator will always get the advertisers money and artists are people too and need to eat, pray, love..
This is all my usual roundabout way of arriving at a conclusion that I note many other writers are coming to around the globe. The Internet and the personal computer have at last given back to creative people the ability to express oneself freely, to write/paint/design – whatever - your own truth and throw it out there for the world to see. Without an editor or the marketing department changing your work.
Creative people do whatever it is they do because it is the only way they can express how they feel about the world. Of course churches, states and ‘isms’ have for generations tried to quell that energy or used it to make ’filthy lucre’. But it always finds its way out. Is it not wonderful – truly wonderful to see a genuine talent, something the artist cannot help practising because it is the only thing that makes sense, the only way they can make themselves heard, seen and understood. Great actors, directors, writers, artists, musicians and many, many others. Cream rising to the top, as inevitable and enduring as the sun appearing on the horizon every dawn.
So there’s hope for the movies yet. I suppose we will still have to be subjected to dross to make money for the fat cats but at least smaller houses in all disciplines can then continue to nuture new ideas and talent and let the next wave of creative energy perhaps be a tsunami. A Golden Age approaches – and I’ll be bleedin’ dead and miss it!
I realise of course that televison has replaced religion as ‘the opium of the people’ and like organised churches most ‘shows’ are mere marketing tools designed to wheedle money from one’s pocket or purse. The lowest common denominator will always get the advertisers money and artists are people too and need to eat, pray, love..
This is all my usual roundabout way of arriving at a conclusion that I note many other writers are coming to around the globe. The Internet and the personal computer have at last given back to creative people the ability to express oneself freely, to write/paint/design – whatever - your own truth and throw it out there for the world to see. Without an editor or the marketing department changing your work.
Creative people do whatever it is they do because it is the only way they can express how they feel about the world. Of course churches, states and ‘isms’ have for generations tried to quell that energy or used it to make ’filthy lucre’. But it always finds its way out. Is it not wonderful – truly wonderful to see a genuine talent, something the artist cannot help practising because it is the only thing that makes sense, the only way they can make themselves heard, seen and understood. Great actors, directors, writers, artists, musicians and many, many others. Cream rising to the top, as inevitable and enduring as the sun appearing on the horizon every dawn.
So there’s hope for the movies yet. I suppose we will still have to be subjected to dross to make money for the fat cats but at least smaller houses in all disciplines can then continue to nuture new ideas and talent and let the next wave of creative energy perhaps be a tsunami. A Golden Age approaches – and I’ll be bleedin’ dead and miss it!
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