Publication: THE LOST AND THE BLIND by Declan Burke

You’ll forgive me, I hope, for reminding you (yet again) that my latest tome, THE LOST AND THE BLIND (Severn House) will be published at the end of December. The book will be my sixth novel, and because I was aiming to achieve something a little bit different this time out, I haven’t been as unsure of a book since I published my first, EIGHTBALL BOOGIE, all the way back in 2003. The blurb runs thusly:

The elderly Gerhard Uxkull was either senile or desperate for attention. Why else would he concoct a tale of Nazi atrocity on the remote island of Delphi, off the coast of Donegal? And why now, sixty years after the event, just when Irish-American billionaire Shay Govern has tendered for a prospecting licence for gold in Lough Swilly?
  Journalist Tom Noone doesn’t want to know. With his young daughter Emily to provide for, and a ghost-writing commission on Shay Govern’s autobiography to deliver, the timing is wrong. Besides, can it be mere coincidence that Uxkull’s tale bears a strong resemblance to the debut thriller by legendary spy novelist Sebastian Devereaux, the reclusive English author who’s spent the past fifty years holed up on Delphi?
  But when a body is discovered drowned, Tom and Emily find themselves running for their lives in pursuit of the truth that is their only hope of survival …

  So there you have it. I’ve loved spy thrillers ever since I was a kid; and THE LOST AND THE BLIND is my homage to the spy novel. I’m nervous about it, as I’ve said, but I’m heartened too by the early word – here, here and here – which has been, much to my surprise, very positive.
  If the festive spirit moves you to share this post with your friends and family – or anyone you know who likes a spy thriller – I would be, as always, very grateful indeed.
  In the meantime, a very Happy Christmas to you all, and I hope it’s a peaceful and prosperous New Year for all of us. I’ll leave you with this year’s (largely phonetic) missive from CAP Towers to Lapland, with the fervent hope that ‘Santy’ brings you everything your heart desires …

Publication: THE LOST AND THE BLIND by Declan Burke

I’m delighted to announce the forthcoming publication of my latest tome, THE LOST AND THE BLIND, which will arrive on a shelf near you on December 30th, courtesy of the good people at Severn House. A contemporary spy thriller, the story has its roots in the early years of WWII – or ‘the Emergency’, as we liked to call it here in Ireland. Quoth the blurb elves:

Why would elderly Gerhard Uxkull concoct a tale of Nazi atrocity on the remote island of Delphi, off the coast of Donegal? And why now, just when Irish-American billionaire Shay Govern has tendered for a prospecting licence for gold in the area? When a body is discovered drowned, journalist Tom Noone must find out the truth if he is to survive.

This gripping Irish thriller is an intriguing new departure for comic noir writer Declan Burke.

  So there you have it. THE LOST AND THE BLIND is available for early download for those you who use NetGalley; meanwhile, if any blogger / reviewers out there would like to receive a digital review copy, I’d love to hear from you.

Better The Evil You Know

I finished Patrick McGinley’s BOGMAIL during the week, and a very fine read it is too. Republished by New Island Books as a ‘Modern Irish Classic’, it is neither a ‘whodunit’ nor a ‘whydunit’ – we know from very early on who killed the barman Eamonn Eales, and why. But BOGMAIL’S pleasures lie elsewhere, not least in its beautiful descriptions of its rural Donegal village setting and mountainous hinterland, the whimsical humour and linguistic gymnastics that echo Flann O’Brien, and the occasional foray into philosophical conundrum.
  At one point McGinley touches on something intrinsic to the crime / mystery novel, which is the existence of evil. I’m not noticeably religious myself, and I don’t believe that Evil exists as a force of nature in the same way as, say, gravity does – although there’s no doubt that there are people and acts that can be described as evil. Anyway, McGinley offers this, during a conversation between his main characters, Roarty and Potter:

  ‘It’s good to be confronted with evil if only because it reminds you of the residue of good within you.’
  ‘Why call it “evil”? Why not “disorder”? Use the word “evil” and you are swamped in theology.” (pg 213)

  Is evil a necessary by-product of theology? An old-fashioned superstition? Or is it out there somewhere, a physical force lurking in the unseen and unknowable dark matter of the universe?
  Answers on a used twenty to the usual address.