Category Archives: Writing
Relief is the main feeling I’m experiencing at the moment!
I’m delighted to report that the launch of my book Mental went really well. It took place in The Book Centre, Waterford, in the evening of Friday March 24th. All books sold out!
Not only that but there was standing room only by the time the event kicked off. I couldn’t ask for a more encouraging result.
Photos are below. The video of the event is to come.
Thank you to everyone who attended and bought the book (and those who were left empty-handed after it sold out!), The Book Centre for having us, and Mark Roper for giving a lovely, thoughtful speech to launch the book.
You can buy the book as an ebook or paperback now from The Book Depository (free delivery worldwide) and Amazon. As of next week, it will be back in stock in The Book Centre bricks-and-mortar store and on their website.
Back in the heady days of early 2017, when March 24th was months away, I had no nerves at all about my launch day. I was breezily looking forward to a nice relaxed evening, chatting to friends and family, in a place that I love.
Now that launch day is the day after tomorrow, all breeziness is gone and I am a bundle of fears and self-doubt. The following thoughts are on an ever-repeating reel in my head:
- What if only a handful of people turn up? (Cue images of tumbleweed rolling through and the sound of crickets in the background.)
- What if a reasonable number of people turn up but hardly anyone buys the book? (Cue image of stacks of unsold books on the floor of my bedroom forever more.)
- What if lots of people buy the book but hate it and demand their money back? (Image: me crying while handing back bank notes to an angry mob.)
- What if online trolls get wind of the book and flame me on Twitter to the degree that I have to quit social media and become a hermit?
I’ll stop there before the fantasies get even more ludicrous. I’m sure Twitter trolls have better things to be doing with their time than picking on a virtually unknown self-published author. Right?!
To switch back to positive mode, a window display for ‘Mental’ and a poster advertising the launch are currently in situ in the window of The Book Centre, Waterford, where the launch takes place on Friday evening.
To my surprise, I had to set up the display myself. My surprise was not that a self-published author would do their own window display (who else would do it?), but that The Book Centre were willing to let me loose on their window. I have zero experience of doing displays of any kind. Here is the result of my attempt:
Lesson learned: window dressing is a lot more difficult than it looks. Kind friends have assured me that it looks ‘minimalist’ and fitting to the theme of the book (rather than ‘bare’ and ‘bland’ as I (still) suspect).
My next post will be a report on the launch itself. Fingers crossed for no tumbleweed or crickets.
I seem to be in a constant state of excitement these days.
The latest reason is that I have confirmed the person who will launch my book. It is none other than Mark Roper. Mark is a nationally renowned poet and creative writing educator with a lengthy list of publications, credits and accolades to his name. (For details of these see Mark’s website.) I had the pleasure of having a piece of mine included alongside one of his in The Sunday Miscellany Anthology in 2011.
Even more significantly for me on a personal level, Mark was a writing mentor of mine back in 2003 and 2004 when I returned home to Ireland from my travels abroad. He encouraged and supported my writing as part of his Writer in Residency year at Waterford Regional Hospital (now University Waterford Hospital) and kindly included a piece of mine in an anthology of writing from people in the hospital. He has continued to provide support and encouragement ever since.
Mark’s kind and gentle manner is famous among those who know him. That temperament was in evidence when I attended his workshops in the hospital with a small, sometimes noisy baby in tow. He did not bat an eyelid at the presence of my daughter and made us feel nothing but welcome. It is seemingly little things like these that are true indicators of a person’s character.
The launch itself takes place in The Book Centre, Waterford on March 24th. There will be details in my next post; in the meantime, check out the event page on Facebook.
One of the most fun tasks in this self-publishing voyage so far has been working with my graphic designer to create a front cover image. And here it finally is:
To say I’m excited to finally release the cover is an understatement. After all, it is the front cover, more than any other part, that we visualise when we plan to publish a book.
To create the cover, I worked with book designer and illustrator Jana Vuković. Jana came recommended by a writer friend who had used her services. Jana and I have never met; in fact, I don’t even know where she lives! We communicate solely by email.
Jana started off the process by asking me for examples of existing book covers that I liked, to give her an idea of the direction we needed to head in. I sent her links to three or four. Then, she got me to complete a questionnaire in order to help me to express exactly what I wanted to achieve with my book cover. I was a bit taken aback by how vague my thoughts had been up to that point! We pinned down the key words, my preferred colours and the most important part of the book to be reflected in the cover image.
The one thing I was specific about from the start was that I wanted the cover to be an illustration, and symbolic rather than depicting an instantly recognisable ‘thing’. I felt this was appropriate for a book that focusses on the mind, thoughts and mental turmoil but also hope and possibility.
I found Jana to be utterly professional and always quick to respond. Her prices are reasonable and her ‘after-sale service’ is great. (Being the rookie that I am, I temporarily forgot that my book needed a back cover! She stepped in at a moment’s notice to provide me with one.)
The current step in my self-publishing process is waiting for the proof copy to arrive from CreateSpace. I may just about explode with excitement to hold an actual physical copy of my book for the very first time! I will post here as soon as it arrives.
Allow me to be selfish for a moment. 2017 is going to be a huge year for me because this is the year that I publish my first book.
It’s a book of short stories and it’s called ‘Mental’. The stories all deal with the issue of mental health as it affects the five main characters, who are of different ages and backgrounds. My aim with the book – apart from creating a piece of work that hopefully has some artistic merit! – is to shed light into the often darkened corners of our mental worlds.
I’m self-publishing the book, a process that so far has been mostly enjoyable. As a child, I was fascinated with the physicality of books. I tried a few times to make my own, in an attempt to fulfil my dream of seeing my name on a front cover.
Armed with the Olivetti typewriter that Santa had brought, my drawing pens, paper and folders liberated from my Dad’s workplace, and lots of sellotape, I sadly found that the results were never quite up to my expectations. Back then, this was the best I could do (this ‘book’ was the result of a school history project):
For Mental, I’m using Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) for the ebook and CreateSpace, Amazon’s print-on-demand service, for the print version.
One of the most exciting tasks so far has been working with an awesome graphic designer to create the cover of the book. I’ll be revealing the cover on this blog very soon!
Mother knows best. So too, apparently, does Other Half. This is part of my Christmas book haul:
‘Cowboy Song’ by Graeme Thompson was a gift from my partner and ‘Hilbilly Elegy’ by J.D. Vance was from my mother. I’m halfway through the former. It’s utterly gripping and the cause of the current crop of grey smudges under my eyes (in a good way). ‘Hillbilly Elegy’ – subtitled ‘A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis’ – will be a great, if sobering, read.
Happy new year, everyone.
Last night, I had the pleasure of meeting and interviewing author Mia Gallagher as part of this year’s Imagine Arts Festival.
As I suspected, Mia is a delight. She is an interviewer’s dream: chatty, friendly and open. She has lots to say but isn’t in the slightest overbearing. Despite being an internationally acclaimed writer, she is completely down to earth and generous.
We talked a lot about her latest novel, Beautiful Pictures of the Lost Homeland, as well as about her writing life, her process, and creativity. I loved hearing that at one stage during the writing of BPLH, she sat cross-legged on her floor, surrounded by stacks of paper. That’s such a romantic image of a writer. Much more appealing than sitting bolt upright in front of a computer screen!
The occasion was further enhanced by the venue, St. Patrick’s Gateway Centre in Waterford city. As the image above shows, this former church provides a highly suitable and atmospheric setting for arts events.
My thanks are due to Ollie Breslin, Nora Boland and everyone else on the Imagine organising committee for a perfectly run event, and to the audience members who turned out on a Monday evening.
Beautiful Pictures of the Lost Homeland is available from all the usual book outlets, as is Hellfire, Mia’s first novel.
I love asking people that question, don’t you? The answer can sometimes give you a glimpse into someone’s inner world. Other times, it’s a glimpse into their everyday life.
This week, I’m reading three books: Roald Dahl’s Collected Short Stories Vol. 2, Mia Gallagher’s Beautiful Pictures of the Lost Homeland (see my previous post) and Lucy Caldwell’s short story collection Multitudes.
On the positive side, all three books are truly wonderful. I’ll be posting more about them in the near future.
Last week, I finished Distress Signals by Catherine Ryan Howard, a thriller that held my attention from start to finish.
Am I over-committing myself again?
Today, it is exactly one hundred years since the birth of Roald Dahl. I have written previously about how much Dahl has meant to me over many years, and why. This year, I was lucky enough to fulfil a childhood dream: to visit Great Missenden, Buckinghamshire, and see for myself where the great man lived and worked.
Great Missenden is a place-name that had become mythical in my mind since the day in 1985 when I received this letter from Dahl, in response to one that I had sent him:
First stop on my visit to Great Missenden was the Roald Dahl Museum and Story Centre. The exhibition there is a delight for the Dahl fan: hundreds of objects large and small have been carefully preserved and put on display in an easy-to-follow and engaging way: household objects, childhood items, books, book paraphernalia and, of course, handwritten letters (some of the nicest are those written by the young Dahl at boarding school to his mother). Murals, signs and multimedia installations greatly enhance the visitor experience.
A specific part of my childhood dream was to see the hut in the garden of his house where Dahl did his writing. This couldn’t be fulfilled to the letter (after all, Dahl’s wife still lives in their house), but I came as close as it is possible to get: the interior of the hut – chair and all – has been re-located to the museum and re-installed exactly as it was. I spent a long time staring through the protective glass (much to the annoyance of other visitors, I’m sure) at the treasures within.
In the photo above, on the table on the left, you can see several artefacts from Dahl’s life, including his hip bone, which had been surgically removed in a hip replacement operation. This is a lovely hint at the macabre in Dahl’s imagination.
The museum shop is likewise a treasure trove. I bought a print from The Twits, to hang over my and my husband’s bed (it seems apt!).
My favourite Dahl book for many years was Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I was thrilled to see on display this first edition from 1964:
Quentin Blake’s illustrations have become synonymous with Dahl’s work for children, so it was interesting to see how another artist (in this case, Joseph Schindelman) interpreted the story.
Lastly, I wandered up Main Street and visited Dahl’s final resting place. My daughter, also an avid fan, came with me. We were both very happy to spend a short time with him there and think about all the happiness he has given to children and adults the world over. I personally sent him thanks for the letter that made a young girl very happy.
As the old Irish saying goes, Ní bheidh a leithéid arís ann (his like will never be seen again).