There is a character in the comedy series Derry Girls called Uncle Colm who, as they might say in Derry, is wild fond of the sound of his own voice. You see, Uncle Colm maunders on. He rattles away, talking in that aimless, vague, drifting manner that begets a maunderer. Not that Uncle Colm is … Continue reading Maundering On
I stood on the edge of a carpet of decaying roses in the middle of July of this year, which was, I think, around six weeks after they had been laid down. What amazed me was how long the flowers were lasting; that is to say, how they were still offering something to be enjoyed … Continue reading Decay
There are those who support the idea that over use of social media piles more pressure on the already high expectations that young people have for themselves. All those insta-snap-tweet-shares they do; the pouts, the poses and plates of perfect food, all awaiting validation via a thumbs-up, a wink, an emoji-heart. Surely it’s not good … Continue reading Expectation
Once upon a time, when I lived in Dublin, I dreamed of owning a Donegal Tweed overcoat: tailored, to the knee, single breasted, with a 100-year guarantee (isn't that how long they last?). Specifically, the coat of my dreams was to come from Kevin and Howlin, a traditional outfitters on Nassau Street, down the side … Continue reading Jacket
It looked beautiful outside, lulled me into forgetting we are balanced on the edge of winter and so I ventured into the pale blue day, ill clad. Needles - the air was full of them - pricked me all over, scrubbed my cheeks red and made my eyes to stream. One glove off, I dabbed … Continue reading Winter Blues
Ambition is one of those words that can be wrapped in a subtle film of criticism, thin as Japanese mulberry paper. It’s not always so, but sometimes, if you listen carefully, there might be a certain tone of voice used when saying, ‘he’s ambitious, that one.’ At times, it comes with an implication of the … Continue reading Ambition
I’m staying in the Scottish Highlands this week, in the middle of nowhere. On Monday, I drove four hours north until I had reached absolutely nowhere, threw a left up a hill, further into nowhere, and finally I turned right down a dirt track until I reached the very heart of nowhere. Trundling the last … Continue reading Caterpillar
My dad would have been 81 today but he died a few years shy of seeing another decade. It’s long enough ago for me to reflect peacefully, to cradle his absence from a place of stillness. Not that opening packages of memory comes without emotion, but now any pain I feel has a soft give, … Continue reading Whole
Do you ever come across a line that is as ripe and full as a fig and if you don't stop and eat it there and then you’ll forget what it is saying to you? I’m talking about words that you must read again, re-view, go back over slowly so that the feeling it has … Continue reading Honest Attention to the Particular
I was at a writing workshop on Saturday. We had to shuffle on and button up the coat of a character we were writing about, inhabit them and get close, try to see life as they did, think and feel the way they would have. For some writers the coat was made to measure, it … Continue reading Wondering
