She had an idea for a book in the morning. It was there. When she woke up. Clear, concise, simple, brilliant. The clarity was astounding. The story felt original, unique, a credible take on a new way of fiction. All there was to do was write it. The characters were already developed, the plot points obvious, the ending came rushing through like a train with no brakes, blasting through the walls of her mind and around her body in excitement. Yes, this was it. The overwhelming advice was to write it now, record it, make notes, don’t let it slip away into the day. Don’t let her head get full of garbage and push out the creativity. She’d write it tonight, she said. No need to write down anything now, it’s already there. Settled, banked, ready. How could she possibly forget it? So she sat up, checked her phone, cruised around four apps for forty five minutes until she was late for work. But that was ok, she had a book ready in her mind and there was nothing to be stressed about. At breakfast, there was no milk or cereal and the kids were hungry. She went to the shop and the car was low on diesel so she had to go a station. The station was busy and it took nearly half an hour. She got back to the house and the post was there. Mostly bills. Time for a shower but she’d forgotten to turn on the immersion last night and the water was cold. Didn’t matter, she had an idea for a book, it was going to change everything. Which agents, she thought. Which publishers. UK or Ireland. Uk is better. Irish publishers are all cowards. They only go for something if it does well in England. Safe bet. Easy money. She’d contact the UK industry tonight. Google a few places. Write a cover letter. Outline the plot. Then maybe she shouldn’t give too much away? What if someone steals the idea? Especially that ending. It was so….perfect. And it could be developed. How will it start again? Let’s see. Jane meets Damien at an airport? Or was I thinking in a foreign country? Love story? Why not make it a thriller too? We could introduce a third element, a darker love interest from Laura’s past that turns out to be a psycho. Yes, that would be good. Or maybe Damien’s the psycho all along? Nice twist. A dark twisted tale set on an island in….why not just set it in Ireland? The UK might not go for that. Why not set it in the UK? I’d have to go and research. Weekend in October maybe. Take some annual leave. Do I have any annual leave left? Is that water hot? She goes through the bills while waiting. No chance of a weekend in the UK. Has a lukewarm shower. Goes to work. She doesn’t like work but it’s ok today because she has a secret. A new book idea. Just get through the day and get home to write. The meetings are taxing. Take maximum concentration. Dark warm rooms, power point presentations. Maybe at her desk later she could jot down some notes on the story. Keeps her going. The day ends, no notes taken. She gets home at 6pm. Mostly exhausted. Family time. Dinner time. Night closes in. Time to start writing. Work out that plot. Look up those agents. Tired eyes from screens all day. An audit to be finished. Those bills coming. Maybe leave it til the morning. Get up at 5am. Work on the book before work. That’d be easier. Fresher. Simpler. It’s such an obvious plot anyway, just have to write it, it’s about…that original bit in the middle, the ending….it’ll come. It’ll come. Time to sleep, sweet sleep.
Fisherman’s Blues (Paperback)
Fisherman’s Blues is the hilarious new novel from Mick Donnellan.Dark and audacious, written in a distinct West of Ireland vernacular, it covers a myriad of genres from Crime Noir to comedy and an odd bit of religion. Fresh in its language, vivid in its descriptions, the book sings with the signature style of all Donnellan’s previous work, and a bit more. Delving into the lives of drinkers, lovers, thieves and scam artists, the story weaves a web of intrigue and curiosity that ends with an unforgettable bang. Not without its poignant moments, the plot hinges on the chaotic consequences of three unlikely comrade’s attempts to save their lost relationships, while unintentionally ruining the plans of a rising criminal’s efforts to take over the city. The question is: Can they succeed? And if they don’t, what then? And where have the women really gone?