Publication: DOWN ON CYPRUS AVENUE by Paul Charles

Paul Charles is one of the unsung heroes of Irish crime fiction. His latest offering, DOWN ON CYPRUS AVENUE (DuFour Editions), is a police procedural set in Belfast:

Brendy McCusker had it made when he took early retirement from the Ulster police force with a handsome pay-out. That is until his wife ran off to America with their nest egg, forcing him back to work in Belfast.
  On his first major case, McCusker partners with DI Lily O’Carroll to locate the two missing sons of a wealthy businessman. But before the brothers can be found, McCusker is reassigned to the brutal murder of an American banker staying on Cyprus Avenue. As the detectives delve into their subjects’ pasts, McCusker finds himself juggling his move to Belfast, O’Carroll’s frequent blind dates, his status as a hired-back rent-a-cop, and trying not to be distracted by Belfast’s beautiful women, especially one mysterious woman in particular.
  McCusker and O’Carroll eventually find a person of interest with an air-tight alibi, but only one of the detectives believes it is genuine…

  Sounds good, and the early word is very positive indeed:

“Twist-filled tale of betrayal and revenge.”—Publishers Weekly “Continuously absorbing, with a nice rapport between the hero and heroine.”—Kirkus Reviews

  For more on Paul Charles, clickety-click here …
  Review: THE LONESOME HEART IS ANGRY by Paul Charles

Review: THE LONESOME HEART IS ANGRY by Paul Charles

Born in Derry, but living in London for most of his adult life, Paul Charles first came to our attention with the Camden Town-set series of novels featuring Detective Inspector Christy Kennedy, publishing his debut, I Love the Sound of Breaking Glass, in 1997.
  There have been ten Christy Kennedy books in total, and Charles has also written a pair of crime novels set in rural Donegal, but he goes back to his roots for The Lonesome Heart is Angry (New Island Books), which is set in the early 1960s in the fictional Co. Derry town of Castlemartin, which also provided the backdrop to The Last Dance (2012).
  The opening brings to mind both John B. Keane and Sam Hanna Bell’s December Bride. Michael Gilmour, Castlemartin’s resident matchmaker, is shocked when he is approached by the twins Pat and Joe Kane, local farmers in need of a wife. Unfortunately, they intend sharing a single wife. Outraged by the impropriety, not to mention the potential damage to his own reputation, Gilmour sends them on their way, only to be deeply wounded when his beloved sister-in-law, Maggie, agrees to accept the twins’ unusual terms and conditions and marries Pat Kane.
  It’s not long before Michael Gilmour’s instincts about the ‘unnatural’ arrangement are proved correct. Joe disappears after a vicious and very public fight between the brothers, and the rumours of the local gossips force District Detective Inspector Doyle – a devotee of the methods of Sherlock Holmes – to investigate the intimate lives of the Kane clan …
  The Lonesome Heart is Angry is a delightfully genteel mystery novel, one that is very firmly rooted in the ‘cosy’ end of the spectrum. Apart from a couple of instances of fisticuffs, there is little here that remotely approaches the blood, gore and violence that characterises much of contemporary crime fiction. The diminutive Detective Inspector Doyle – aka ‘Wee Doyle’ – may well be investigating the disappearance and possible murder of Joe Kane, but that narrative strand is only one aspect of Paul Charles’ own exploration of a gentler, kinder time and place. His affection for his cast of quirky characters is palpable, as is his description of the town of Castlemartin itself, a fictional version of Charles’ own hometown of Magherafelt.
  The folksy, conversational tone, however, is bittersweet. The matchmaker, the bumbling policeman and the idyllic rural setting give the novel an old-fashioned air, but Castlemartin is a town in the early stages of a cultural revolution. The soundtrack in the local cafés and fairgrounds is jarring: The Kinks, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles. Charles, who has spent most of his life working as a music promoter – his clients include Tom Waits, Christy Moore, Elvis Costello and The Waterboys – even has Wee Doyle’s investigation turn on a crucial clue provided by a Beatles single. Change is coming to Castlemartin and washing away the old values, and even paragons of virtue such as Michael Gilmour and Detective Inspector Doyle aren’t able to stem the tide.
  Curiously, perhaps, and in common with John McAllister’s similarly set The Station Sergeant (2012), religion and sectarian conflict play no part in The Lonesome Heart is Angry. The citizens of Castlemartin are entirely pragmatic when it comes to rules, laws and commandments, Heaven-sent or otherwise, adapting instead to circumstance as they see fit and bending to authority, as Wee Doyle discovers when he starts asking his questions, only when it suits their own agenda.
  It all sounds deliciously idyllic, of course, but the fate of Joe, Pat and Maggie Kane suggests that no society or community can thrive indefinitely if it is composed of moral anarchists, regardless of how friendly and sociable they might appear to be. ~ Declan Burke

  This review was first published in the Irish Examiner

The Heart Is A Lonesome Hunter

I’m hugely looking forward to chatting with Paul Charles at the Gutter Bookshop on Monday evening, May 12th, when I’ll be hosting a Q&A with Paul to mark the publication of his latest novel, THE LONESOME HEART IS ANGRY. Quoth the blurb elves:

What seems like a routine job for matchmaker Michael Gilmour in a small 1960s Northern Irish town becomes something very much more when events take an unexpected turn. The brothers Kane have an idea for their matches that will set tongues wagging, light the fires of jealousy in more than one heart, and open the door to tragedy. THE LONESOME HEART IS ANGRY explores life in a small town and the darker side of the human condition. It doesn’t shy away from the gossip, the fear, the violence and desperation that can build up inside people and behind closed doors. Set in Castlemartin, home of the Playboys who featured in Paul Charles’ THE LAST DANCE, THE LONESOME HEART IS ANGRY is a gripping novel that will keep you reading until the last page.

  The event kicks off at 6.30pm at the Gutter Bookshop, Temple Bar, Dublin. See you there, folks …

The Trinity Report

I had a terrific time at the Irish Crime Fiction Festival at Trinity College over the weekend, and I didn’t even get to see half of it. The most enjoyable – albeit nerve-wracking – experience was chairing the paradoxically titled ‘Irish Crime Fiction Abroad’ panel in the Edmund Burke theatre on Saturday morning, with said panel comprised of (l-r, above) John Connolly, Jane Casey, Arlene Hunt, Alan Glynn and Conor Fitzgerald (pic courtesy of @paysan). The conversation ranged through issues such as place, identity and language, all in the context of how an Irish writer adapts his or her storytelling to another culture and society. I was too involved to have any sense of how it was all received, of course, but for my own part I found it utterly fascinating.
  It was terrific, too, to be in Trinity and meet – even for the briefest of chats – so many people all on the same wavelength. Joe Long and Seth Kavanagh, all the way from NYC; Michael Russell; Sue Condon; Paul Charles; Conor Brady; Kevin McCarthy; Eoin McNamee; Stuart Neville; Stephen Mearns; Sean Farrell; Michael Clifford; Rob Kitchin; Declan Hughes; Critical Mick; and Bob Johnston, all the way from the Gutter Bookshop.
  I had to leave at lunchtime on Saturday, due to work commitments so I missed out on the Saturday afternoon panel (and seeing Brian McGilloway, Niamh O’Connor, Gene Kerrigan and Louise Phillips); and I also missed out on John Connolly interviewing Michael Connelly, which I imagine was the weekend’s highlight. A real pity that, but needs must.
  Even so, it looked to me like the festival was a triumph, and a tribute to the fantastic efforts of Dr Brian Cliff, Professor John Waters of Glucksman House at NYC, and that tireless champion of all things Irish crime writing, John Connolly. Hearty congratulations to all involved, and here’s hoping the Trinity Irish crime writing event becomes a regular feature of the Irish literary scene.

Irish Crime Fiction: A Festival

UPDATE: Ahead of ‘Irish Crime Fiction: A Festival’, which begins today at Trinity College in Dublin, I found myself last night fondly remembering the symposium at NYU in 2011 in the company of some of Irish crime writing’s finest. The details remain hazy, possibly because I found myself caught up in an Alan Glynn novel …

For all the details on the Trinity College festival, clickety-click here …

Jeeves? The Luger

The Glebe ‘Cultural Summit’ takes place in Donegal next month, as part of the Earagail Arts Festival, incorporating discussions on books, film and ‘the Next Door Neighbours’ - i.e., the relationship between Ireland and Britain.
  It all takes place at Glebe House and Gallery, a rather lovely little spot on the fringe of Glenveagh National Park. The former home of artist Derek Hill, the house is now maintained as a museum by Heritage Ireland. We were there a couple of weeks ago, and got the guided tour - there’s a Picasso, a Renoir, a beautiful Evie Hone, and much more - although the artist that caught my eye was John Craxton, whose ‘Shepherds Near Knossos’ decorates this post, and about whom you will be hearing more of in my next novel.
  But I digress. Its title apart, which has me instinctively reaching for my Luger, the ‘Glebe Cultural Summit’ has a very nice array of Irish talent on board. Peter Murphy, Mary Costello and Paul Lynch engage in a discussion called ‘New Irish Writing - Post-Boom Narratives’; director Lenny Abrahamson is interviewed in ‘Storytelling on Film’, with a particular stress on the forthcoming What Richard Did, which is adapted from Kevin Power’s very fine novel BAD DAY IN BLACKROCK; and a trio of our finest crime scribes, Arlene Hunt, Declan Hughes and Paul Charles, take part in ‘The Rise of Irish Crime Fiction’.
  For all the details, and how to book tickets, clickety-click here …

The Dublin Book Festival: Yep, It’s One Last Heist …

If you’re in Dublin on Saturday, March 5th, and it’s raining, and you’re on the lam from the Dibble, you could do a lot worse than hide out at City Hall on Dame Street, where Niamh O’Connor, Gene Kerrigan and Paul Charles will be plotting one last heist, aka taking part in a panel discussion on ‘Irish Crime Writing in the 21st Century’ as part of the Dublin Book Festival. The more eagle-eyed of the Three Regular Readers of these pages will notice that that title is eerily similar to the sub-title of DOWN THESE GREEN STREETS: IRISH CRIME WRITING IN THE 21ST CENTURY, a collection of essays, interviews and short stories edited by yours truly, to be published by Liberties Press in May, and thus won’t be even the slightest bit surprised to learn that your humble host will be chairing the discussion. The discussion runs from 2-3pm, and admission, I’m delighted to say, is free.
  I’m looking forward to the gig very much, I have to say. Gene Kerrigan’s forthcoming tome THE RAGE is hotly anticipated around these parts, and only yesterday a certain Stuart Neville was giving it two thumbs aloft in one of the comment boxes hereabouts. Niamh O’Connor’s second novel, TAKEN, arrives in May with a lot to live up to, given that her first, IF I NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN, was one of the best debuts I read last year. Finally, Paul Charles, whose most recent offering is FAMILY LIFE, is a veteran of the Irish crime writing scene, and one of its most articulate interviewees. I’ve heard all three speak about writing and the crime novel at various points in the recent past, and all have fascinating insights, not least in terms of the relationship between the crime novel and the real crime on which it feeds.
  The Dublin Book Festival runs from Wednesday 2nd March to Sunday 6th, and incorporates a wide range of events and writers of all stripes and none. For all the details, clickety-click here; for the Dublin Book Festival blog, clickety-click here …

On Choosing Your Favourite Child

Craig Sisterson over at Kiwi Crime was kind enough to point his 9mm at me (oo-er, missus), said 9mm being a quick-fire interview consisting of nine questions, one of which runneth thusly:

CS: Of your books, which is your favourite, and why?

DB: “Now that’s a tough bloody question. It’s like asking which of your kids you love most. And the honest answer is that I love them all equally, and I’m including those that haven’t been published when I say ‘all’. EIGHTBALL was magic because it was my first, and I’ll never replicate that shining, incandescent moment when I first held the book - an actual book, written by me - in my hands. It happened on a street in Galway, and I believe I kind of blanked out for a few seconds. I’d waited a long, long time to see that book … THE BIG O I love because it was a co-published deal with Hag’s Head, I and my wife put our mortgage money where my mouth was by paying 50% of the costs, and it ended up a modest success, from a co-published little effort (880 copies in Ireland) that ended up getting a pretty decent deal in the States, and allowed me go to the States for a road-trip to promote it. BAD FOR GOOD (which is currently out under consideration) I love because it’s radically different to the previous books, and I’m still not sure where the voice came from, or where the notion of having a hospital porter blow up his hospital came from. But even the books that will never see the light of day, I love them too, because they’re me at my most me. Which is the main reason why I write, I think.”

  For the rest, clickety-click here …
  Actually, it was only after I’d seen the piece published that the sheer audacity of that question struck me. Not that I might have a favourite among my books, but the fact that there books out there that are ‘my books’, and enough of them published - the bare minimum, as it happens - to allow me choose a favourite. Some days you forget how far you’ve come relative to where you began … If you had told me 20 years ago that I’d have one book published, let alone two, I’d probably have had you consigned to a home for the terminally bewildered.
  It’s far too easy to get caught up in the bullshit that goes with writing - sales figures, publishing deals, not getting publishing deals, the near misses with commissioning editors who love your stuff but can’t get it past the bean-counters … All of which can be very frustrating, it’s true. Once in a while, though, it does no harm to lean back and glance up at the shelf where I’ve stacked the Irish crime fiction titles, and see ‘my books’ nestling in there (alphabetically, natch) amongst novels from proper good writers such as Colin Bateman, Ken Bruen, Paul Charles and John Connolly. I’ll probably never shed the notion that offerings are interlopers on that shelf, but hey, at least they’re there …

Jack Taylor: West Goes West, Sadly

Hmmm, just as I suspected … Crimespree Cinema brings us the news (via CSNI’s Gerard Brennan) that Dominic West won’t, in fact, be playing Jack Taylor in the TV series of Ken Bruen’s inimitable private eye. Apparently, Iain Glen has stepped up to the mark, and filming began yesterday, under the watchful eye of director Stuart Orme, who has previously directed episodes of Inspector Morse. With all due respect to the craggily handsome Glen, he looks a bit too young and craggily handsome to be playing the Jack Taylor we all know and love. Sounds promising, though …
  Meanwhile, the equally inimitable (?) Critical Mick continues to champion Irish crime writing above and beyond the call of duty, focusing most recently on Paul Charles and Sam Millar. There’s a review of Paul Charles’ latest offering, FAMILY LIFE, here, and an interview with said Paul Charles here (you can find other reviews of FAMILY LIFE here and here). For Sam Millar material, the Mickster has reviewed THE DARK PLACE here, and interviewed Sam here. And if that isn’t enough for you, Brian McGilloway’s BLEED A RIVER DEEP gets nominated for the prestigious ‘Best Book Critical Mick Read in 2009’ award here.
  Crikey. When Yon Mickster hits his stride, he’s wearing seven-league boots …

All Aboard The Brandwagon

Brandon Books delivered a rather tasty package late last week, which contained the latest offerings from Sam Millar and Paul Charles. First up, Sam Millar’s sequel to BLOODSTORM, which rejoices in the title THE DARK PLACE and is set in Northern Ireland:

Young homeless women and drug addicts are being abducted before being brutally mutilated and murdered and the city is held in a grip of unspeakable terror. The police are unable - or unwilling - to apprehend the elusive serial killer and corrupt politicians turn a seemingly blind eye to the catalogue of murders. But by abducting Katie, the young daughter of legendary private investigator Karl Kane, the killer has just made his first mistake - and one which may well be his last.

Nice. Incidentally, Sam recently carved himself a weblington out of cyberspace; drop on over and say hello …
  Paul Charles, meanwhile, is generally to be found writing about DI Christy Kennedy, who pounds the Camden Town beat over in London Town. FAMILY LIFE, the follow-up to THE DUST OF DEATH, is the second in the Inspector Starrett series, which is set in north Donegal, and precariously close to Brian McGilloway’s turf. To wit:

In ones and twos, the Sweeney clan arrive at Liam Sweeney’s farm on the outskirts of Ramelton, County Donegal, to celebrate Liam’s birthday. The banter and storytelling is great as they await the arrival of the single missing family member. But when Inspector Starrett arrives unexpectedly at the farm it becomes clear that all is not well. The body of a Sweeney family member has just been discovered in the courtyard of a waterfront warehouse in the nearby town and the circumstances are suspicious to say the least …

  Incidentally, if we take Donegal to be a part of Northern Ireland – which it is, culturally and geographically, if not politically – then the last couple of months have seen novels from Norn Iron crime writers such as – obviously – Millar and Charles, Garbhan Downey, Adrian McKinty, Brian McGilloway, The Artist Formerly Known as Colin Bateman and Stuart Neville. What is it, exactly, they’re putting in the water up there? And can I have some?

Git Along Li’l Dogie – Ye Olde Ende of Monthe Round-Up

Being a pick-‘n’-mix of Crime Always Pays posts for the month of June. To wit:

Reviews of John Connolly’s THE LOVERS, Stuart Neville’s THE TWELVE, and Declan Hughes’ ALL THE DEAD VOICES.

Tony Black gets interviewed to mark the launch of his second novel, GUTTED.

Some chancer called Declan Burke posts the first chapter of his work-in-progress.

Peter James is remarkably generous with his time …

Debutant Sean Black announces that he’s a fictional character.

John Connolly gets jiggy with ‘conservative critics’ who don’t like genre-bending.

Craig McDonald interviews Ken Bruen over at the Busted Flush interweb malarkeybus.

Euro Crime goes crazy all of a sudden and reviews Brian McGilloway, Paul Charles, Tana French, Declan Hughes, Adrian McKinty and Gene Kerrigan.

Score! Free signed copies of Adrian McKinty’s terrific thriller FIFTY GRAND.

A Hape of Reviews; and The Flat Lake Festival

A Scottish acquaintance gets in touch to ask if I’ve heard of a new Irish writer called Bill Ryan, who got a huge advance for his debut novel, sight unseen and based only on a synopsis. The answer is no, I haven’t, but if anyone else has, please feel free to share, because I’d love to call around to Bill’s house and congratulate him over the back of the head on securing a huge advance on the basis of a synopsis …
  In other news, Karen Meek at the very fine Euro Crime interweb malarkey has for some reason suddenly posted a whole hape (as we’d say in Ireland) of Irish crime fiction reviews, including new reviews of novels by Brian McGilloway (right), Tana French and Paul Charles. On the same page there are also reviews of Declan Hughes, Adrian McKinty and Gene Kerrigan. Why the sudden outbreak of Irish crime fic reviews? I don’t know and I don’t care. It’s all good …
  Stuart Neville has an interesting development over at his virtual hidey-hole, where he has posted up ‘deleted scenes’ from THE TWELVE. Which is a brave move, because in my experience, stuff gets ‘deleted’ from the final draft of a novel because it’s not good enough and / or unnecessary. For me, posting up ‘deleted scenes’ would give me the shudder factor equivalent to tossing my dirty laundry into a convent. But then, I’m not Stuart Neville, and I didn’t write THE TWELVE …
  Finally, there’s the Flat Lake Festival. Yep, you read it right – the Flat Lake Festival, which is a little bit country, a little bit rock ‘n’ roll, a little bit spoof of literary festivals, and quite a bit bonkers. It’s the third year for the Flat Lake Festival, I think, which happens in Monaghan sometime around mid-August. They’re having a crime fiction element this year, so I’ll be toddling along, and at the invitation of Pat McCabe, no less. There’s no list as yet as to who’s attending this year, mainly because the launch party isn’t happening until this coming Friday night, July 3rd, at Odessa in Dublin, 7pm. More details as they arrive, but if you can’t wait, there’s always the somewhat surreal ‘Radio Butty’ blog to get getting on with ...

With Dark Joy, The Madness

The tiny but perfectly formed feedback to the post below suggests that folks aren’t all that optimistic about the short-term future for books, and particularly sales, but I don’t know. I think bad times can produce more great books than good times ever will. As the Chinese proverb-curse goes, ‘May you live in interesting times …’
  Anyhoo, I’m going to end the year on a up-beat note, for – lo! – I got good news last week regarding a project I’ve thinking about for quite a while now. The idea is for a book of essays, interviews and conversations about various aspects of Irish crime fiction, each chapter being written by an Irish crime writer. The names already confirmed include – although this may be subject to change – Colin Bateman, Gerard Brennan, Ken Bruen, Paul Charles, John Connolly, Ruth Dudley Edwards, Reed Farrel Coleman, Alan Glynn, Declan Hughes, Arlene Hunt, Gene Kerrigan, Brian McGilloway, Adrian McKinty and Neville Thompson. Messers, sorry, Messrs McKinty and Brennan are also on board as editors. Some of the writers’ chapters have yet to be confirmed, but the proposed material that has been is, in my entirely biased opinion, seriously interesting stuff.
  Anyway, the good news is that the project has been given the green light by the Arts Council with regard to commissioning funding, which means that we can afford to pay the writers a token gesture, at least. That means we’re over the second hurdle, and there’s only about 198 left to clear.
  The only downside at the moment is that there’s so few women on board. I have approached a few, but they’ve all been too busy to commit, unfortunately; and I’m still waiting to hear back from a few more. Hopefully the finished product won’t be entirely drenched in testosterone.
  Anyway, if the sound of this beeps even your smallest jeep, don’t be shy about letting us know or spreading the word. Oh, and feel free to suggest a title. I was thinking about using “WITH DARK JOY, THE MADNESS”, which is from a line in Liam O’Flaherty’s THE ASSASSIN. But I don’t know, it doesn’t sit right. Any ideas?

The Beautiful Sound Of Bloodstorm

It’s high-ho for the Irish Writers’ Centre on Parnell Square in Dublin on Thursday, October 30, where Paul Charles (left) and Sam Millar (right) get together for a reading, talk and Q&A to celebrate the launches of THE BEAUTIFUL SOUND OF SILENCE and BLOODSTORM, respectively. The gig is being organised by Brandon Books, and nice it is to see them getting behind their scribes and working ye olde promo circuit. No doubt the ‘talk’ element of the evening will prove intriguing, as both men have, as the Chinese proverb has it, lived through interesting times, Paul as a music promoter and Sam – before he was pardoned by Bill Clinton – as a reluctant guest of Uncle Sam’s hospitality. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it along myself, as I’m due to go out live on radio around 6.45pm that evening, but if either or both of Sam and Paul are reading this, and fancy a pre-gig cuppa joe, the coffees are on me … Oh, and did I mention that admission to the Writers’ Centre gig is free? No? Silly moi …

Gerard Brennan: His Ass Is Officially Grass

Has anyone else noticed the amount of work Gerard Brennan is getting through over at Crime Scene Northern Ireland? The guy must have eight arms, or else he’s repatriated all the elves who abandoned Crime Always Pays for the flesh pots of Santa Ponsa during the summer and never came back. Sob, etc.
  Anyhoos, in the last fortnight alone, Gerard has posted interviews with uber-babe Arlene Hunt (right), Ken Bruen and Neville Thompson; reviewed Brian McGilloway’s BORDERLANDS and Paul Charles’ THE DUST OF DEATH; and posted sundry other Irish crime fic-related bits ‘n’ bobs. And not only that, but he’s gone and half-inched the only regular contributor Crime Always Pays ever had, aka Adrian McKinty, who’s written a very funny review of Julian Barnes’ ARTHUR AND GEORGE. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he gets tons more comments than Crime Always Pays does. Boo.
  What’s to be done? Well, it’s obvious, innit – we’re taking a hit out on the boy Brennan and putting a CAP in his ass. Gerard? It’s pistols at ten paces in a murky Russian dawn. Well, it’s either that or slow down, squire. You’re making us all look bad …

The Best Things In Life Are Free … Books

This week’s super soaraway freebie thingy comes courtesy of the generous folk at Brandon Books, who have given us three copies of Paul Charles’ latest, THE BEAUTIFUL SOUND OF SILENCE, to pass on to you. Yes, YOU! First, the blurb elves:

In the ninth DI Christy Kennedy mystery, Kennedy investigates the murder of a colleague whose ‘the ends justify the means’ work ethic created numerous enemies. An annual Halloween Bonfire goes horribly wrong when a body is spotted in the middle of the fire’s glowing timbers. Identifiable only through his dental records, the victim is retired police Superintendent David Peters, an ex-colleague of DI Christy Kennedy. As Kennedy and his team settle down to a painstaking search through Peters’ cases, they soon discover that for the superintendent the means justified the end in solving them, and each case they review throws up another suspect.

  Coolio. To be in with a chance of winning a copy, just answer the following question.

Was Paul Charles’ last book, THE DUST OF DEATH, set in:
(a) London;
(b) Dublin;
(c) Donegal;
(d) Oh for pity’s sake, just give me a blummin’ free book for once!

  Answers via the comment box, please, leaving a contact email address (using (at) rather than @ to confused the spam-munchkins), by noon on Tuesday, October 7. Et bon chance, mes amis …

“Just A Perfect Day / I’m Glad I Spent It With Youse …”

I don’t generally have much truck with Kilkenny, this on the basis that its hurlers knocks the stuffing out of Wexford on an annual basis, but yesterday, at the invitation of organiser Neville Thompson (right), I headed down country for the inaugural Castlecomer Writers’ Festival. A fine day it was too, with the sleepy hamlet bathed in sunshine and none of the locals inclined to boast that their county’s hurlers are the finest specimens of the art known to mankind, and are therefore the finest sportsmen ever to grace the planet.
  Anyhoos, I did my best to ruin the convivial atmosphere by injecting some crime into proceedings but no one seemed to take it personally, and the morning’s crime writing workshop went off without a hitch, apart from the fact that I was unforgivably late. It being Castlecomer, no one was rude enough to point out this fact, and it was only afterwards I realised it. Folks? Sincere apologies …
  Bizarre as it was to be asked for my advice on how to write (“Erm, I dunno – rip off someone good, like Elmore Leonard …?”), it was a terrific experience. Because the truth is that I’m about a half-a-rung up the publishing ladder from the folks who are currently struggling to piece their first novels together, which made the whole process a fairly chastening reality check. Mind you, the highlight of the morning was the nun who recounted how she’d taught a hardened prisoner the meaning of the acronym ‘fuck’.
  Upward and onward to lunch, where I met James Lawless, whose novel PEELING ORANGES sounds like a good one. To wit:

PEELING ORANGES tells the story of Derek Foley, who, while sifting through his late father’s diaries and his mother’s correspondence with an IRA man, discovers that Patrick Foley, a diplomat in Franco’s Spain, was not really his father. Derek’s mother, who is ailing, is unwilling to discuss the past, forcing her son on a quest that will plunge him into the early history of Irish diplomacy, taking him to Spain and later to Northern Ireland, until he discovers who his real father was – with tragic consequences.
  PEELING ORANGES is a novel full of personal and political intrigue, fraught with ideology, as it intersects the histories of two emergent nations – Ireland and Spain. It is also a beautiful and lyrically written love story of childhood sweethearts – the apolitical Derek and the passionate nationalist, Sinéad Ní Shúileabháin. “A book to lose oneself in. I highly recommend it.” – Gabriel Byrne.

  I also – finally – got to meet Garbhan Downey, who followed me outside when I slipped out for a post-prandial smoke. “I recognised you from the cigarillo,” says he. A top bloke. After lunch we co-hosted a workshop on journalism, during which I felt like a total fraud. I tried to buy a copy of OFF BROADWAY, his Damon Runyon-inspired collection of short stories, but apparently my money is no good in Castlecomer. “If I never wrote another book,” he said, handing it over, “this is the book I wanted to write.” Always nice to hear a scribe say that …
  Back into the Vizmobile, then, and off to Dublin, where I took part in a discussion on the sudden popularity of Irish crime fiction on Newstalk 106 hosted by the ever-radiant Sinead Gleeson. Tana French and I were in the studio, with Paul Charles on the line from London. The verdict? Irish crime fiction is suddenly popular because there’s a whole heap of terrific authors writing crime fiction. Here endeth the lesson.
  Back into the Vizmobile again and hey-ho for Arklow and the afters of a wedding reception, where I got quietly and very pleasantly drunk to the soundtrack of a covers band knocking out pretty decent versions of offerings from The Stones, The Monkees, The Beatles and Joe Dolan. Nice. Mind you, I did make a faux pas when I told one of Mrs Viz’s cousins that I really liked her shoes. What – aren’t married men supposed to notice women’s shoes anymore?
  Anyhoos, back home and off to Sleepytown, not neglecting to give the Princess Lilyput a little cuddle before my pillow finally claimed me for its own. A perfect day? Damn close …

Shssssh, It’s Paul Charles

Brandon Books get in touch to let us know that Paul Charles has a new novel hitting the shelves on September 9th, THE BEAUTIFUL SOUND OF SILENCE. Charles’ previous offering THE DUST OF DEATH was a break with his DI Christy Kennedy series, and was set in Donegal, but Charles is back on his old stomping ground of London’s Camden Town again for the ninth Kennedy mystery, with the blurb elves wibbling thusly:

In the ninth DI Christy Kennedy mystery, Kennedy investigates the murder of a colleague whose ‘the ends justify the means’ work ethic created numerous enemies. An annual Halloween Bonfire goes horribly wrong when a body is spotted in the middle of the fire’s glowing timbers. Identifiable only through his dental records, the victim is retired police Superintendent David Peters, an ex-colleague of DI Christy Kennedy. As Kennedy and his team settle down to a painstaking search through Peters’ cases, they soon discover that for the superintendent the means justified the end in solving them, and each case they review throws up another suspect …

  So why should you care about Paul Charles? “A writer who treads in the classic footsteps of Morse and Maigret,” says The Guardian. “This series deserves recognition on a par with those of Inspectors Jury, Morse and Tennyson,” says Publishers Weekly. “Paul Charles is one of the hidden treasures of British crime fiction,” says John Connolly.
  Wouldn’t it ironic if THE BEAUTIFUL SOUND OF SILENCE was the one to get the mainstream press beating the drums for Paul Charles? No? Okay then.

The Sunday Roast

It’s Sunday and it’s the proverbial rack of lamb, albeit of the cold and sweet variety. Yep, it’s our favourite ice cream bloggers, Sean and Kieran Murphy of Dingle, who are celebrating the publication of their tome THE BOOK OF SWEET THINGS through the Mercier Press. Apparently their recipe for brown bread ice cream is only da bomb … Back to more conventional crime fiction-related matters, and John McFetridge submits his DIRTY SWEET to Marshall Zeringue’s Page 69 test, to wit: “Page 69 is the end of a scene. Boris, the driver of the getaway car, is picking up his Uncle Khozha (the shooter he brought in) at a hotel to take him to the airport to get him on a plane back to New York. But Khozha has been spending time with the strippers from the club Boris owns and doesn’t want to go so fast. Now Khozha decides he’s going to have lunch with his old friend, Boris’s mother …” Hmmm, colour us intrigued … A quick jaunt now across the Atlantic to Gerard Brennan’s Crime Scene Norn Iron, where, amid a veritable cornucopia of crime fiction matters, Gerard features interviews with Ian Sansom and some chancing wastrel called Declan Burke … Staying with Norn Iron crime, and GALLOWS LANE scribe Brian McGilloway has one of those fancy-pants podcast malarkey yokes going over at the Pan Macmillan interweb thingy. And while we’re on the McGilloway-shaped subject, Detectives Beyond Borders has been perusing GALLOWS LANE … The Irish World hosts an interview with Paul Charles, he of THE DUST OF DEATH and the Camden Town-based Christy Kennedy series: ‘It was around this time that Detective Christy Kennedy was born, an Irishman who takes his name from two men – Christy Moore and JFK. “It created a very strong, honest-sounding name, I thought.”’ … A couple of snippets on Adrian McKinty – the London Review of Books is hosting a competition to see who can spot the most literary references in his new offering, THE BLOOMSDAY DEAD, while Serpent’s Tail give a heads up about the launch of said tome at No Alibis of Belfast on June 11 … Following on from last week’s win in the Bisto-sponsored Children’s Books Ireland Bisto-flavoured bunfight for THE LONDON EYE MYSTERY, Siobhan Dowd’s BOG CHILD has been longlisted for The Guardian’s 2008 children’s fiction prize … Finally, a quick reminder that Ken Bruen’s SANCTUARY, the latest Jack Taylor tayl – sorry, tale – is due on a shelf near you next week. For the skinniest of skinnies, jump on over here …

Poolbeg: Putting The ‘Crim’ Into Crimson

You know things are all a-stir in the Irish crime fiction world when Poolbeg – the home of all things glittery, shiny and chick literary – dip a toe in the ‘psychological drama genre’. The first of their ‘Poolbeg Crimson’ line is GUARDING MAGGIE by Ellen McCarthy, with the blurb elves wibbling thusly:

Maggie walked into her yard and found a strange man standing there, with her dog walking circles around him. Maggie has lived at home all her life with only a brief stay in Scotland and Dublin. She cares for her elderly mother and older brother Pascal, who has controlled and dominated every aspect of her life. After Pascal’s suspicious death from an apparent asthmatic attack, secrets from the past start to emerge and Maggie discovers someone is watching her every move. Maggie thought she had control of her life for the first time in over forty years after Pascal’s death but now she’s more scared and alone than ever. All her life her family have sheltered her from the outside world. But who is guarding Maggie now?

Ooooooh, spooky. Incidentally, the novel is set in rural Donegal, which is where Brian McGilloway and Paul Charles have set their recent novels. Will there be anyone left alive to be murdered in Donegal by the end of the summer? Only time, that notoriously loose-lipped doity rat, will tell …