Friday, April 28, 2017

Holy Sh*t - I Won The Edgar Award

BIG thank you to my wife Leah who picked up the award for my novel Rain Dogs on my behalf and apparently gave a very funny speech. Big thank you too to the Mystery Writers of America. This is such an honour and definitely the highlight of my career! 
Thank you also my lovely daughters Arwynn & Sophie and all my family in Ireland, England and America. 
Also huge thank you to my agent Shane Salerno who has become a 3rd Dan master at talking me down from ledges. 
Also huge thank you to everyone at 7th Street and Serpents Tail and Allen&Unwin, Blackstone Audio and Suhrkamp. And the crime fiction community in Ireland, Australia, the UK, America and across the world for being nothing but supportive. I want to single out three bookstores too: The Poisoned Pen in Scottsdale, No Alibis in Belfast and Pages & Pages in Sydney who always treated me like a best seller and a winner when that clearly wasn't the case. 
And big thanks in no particular order to: Ian Rankin, Don Winslow, Val McDermid, Rebecca Gray, Dan Woodrell, Dec Burke, Stu Neville, Steve Hamilton, Steve Cavanagh, John McFetridge, John Connolly, Brian McGilloway, Ger Brennan, Dan Mayer, Bob Mecoy, Anna-Marie Fitzgerald, Jill Maxick, Peter Rozovksy, Seana Graham, Candice Fox, Daneet Steffens, Jason Steger, the Irish Times, The Boston Globe, The Guardian, The London Times, The Irish Indy, The Wall Street Journal, The Melbourne Age, The Australian, every mystery blog who ever reviewed me, everybody who reviewed me on audible, amazon and good reads (even the stinkers) and all my book readers and blog readers for all your encouragement and support over the years. 
finally I'd like to thank the late great Muhammad Ali whom I met in 1992 and who a star struck Duffy meets in chapter 1 of Rain Dogs - a little of The Champ's magic rubbed off on me... 
go raibh maith agat 

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

The Handmaiden, The Handmaids Tale

The Handmaiden is a South Korean erotic thriller directed by Park Chan-wook based on the novel Fingersmith by Welsh writer Sarah Waters. Both works are about a pair of grifters (a man and woman) who attempt to con a naive young heiress out of her fortune by having her fall in love with the man and elope with him. The female con artist goes into the house as a maid to work the plan from the inside while the male conman poses as a drawing instructor. Part 2 of the plan is that after the elopement they consign the heiress to an insane asylum and split the dough. Fingersmith the novel has that set up too but it's also qot quite a lot of cool stuff about pickpocketing, the short con and the long con. Fingersmith has a famous end of the first act twist and then a great second act twist too. It is set in Victorian England and is maybe a little long but otherwise perfect as an erotic twisty thriller. The Handmaiden moves the action to Japanese occupied Korea which I thought was going to be awesome but it wasn't because they do absolutely nothing with this premise. I've never seen a movie that takes place in Occupied Korea and I was stoked for some kind cool resistance motifs or Japanese-Korean tensions but there's nothing like. I'm a fan of Park Chan-wook, though, I, like every other man in my forties, have watched the corridor hammer fight in Old Boy about 20 times. However I was expecting a bit more from him with this adaptation. Like I say, the setting is not really used much, the erotic elements are a bit too leery and male gazy (while railing against male gaze eroticism as subtext (a beautiful example of attempting to eat your cake and have it too)) and the torture scene at the end is completely unnecessary. I liked the movie but if you haven't read the book the twists will come as more of a surprise and the film will probably work better.  
The Handmaids Tale is a science fiction novel by Margaret Attwood about a future America run by a quasi Mormon religious right. It's a book that everybody should read both as a warning and as, you know, a great work of art. Attwood, building on the tradition of Ursula Le Guin, Angela Carter, Aldous Huxley, George Orwell etc. creates an entirely believable universe where a young Handmaiden must endure Winston Smith type suffering simply because she is a woman. The TV series adaptation is faithful and a little dull so far (I've only seen three episodes) and even perhaps a little tame. Some of those involved in the production have been running away from the word 'feminist' which is absurd because the Handmaids Tale is transparently a feminist masterpiece. But things augur well for the rest of the series and it really couldn't be more timely. 

Sunday, April 16, 2017

The Sydney Morning Herald Reviews Police At The Station

Checking in on the progress of Detective Inspector Sean Duffy of the Carrick Royal
Ulster Police in the 1980s is always such a delight. Duffy is one of those smart-mouthed rogue policemen we have learned to love precisely because he has no respect for authority, a ferocious intelligence, and enough bad habits to endear him to every sinner.
But Duffy's trying hard to break the bad habits now there is so much more at stake. Girlfriend Beth has moved in, baby Emma has arrived, and the need to check under the BMW in the event of a mercury tilt bomb has never been more pressing. Duffy's also been diagnosed with asthma and various other dependency issues. 
Police at the station etc. opens in medias res as Duffy is lead through a dark wood to the place of his intended death by a posse of hapless and incompetent executioners. Facing impending doom, he regretfully considers his legacy, "Over the last 15 years I've done my best to fight entropy and carve out a little local order in a sea of chaos. I have failed. He has failed and "made one mistake too many."  He's also forgotten his asthma inhaler, although looking on the bright side, as Duffy is inclined to do, "a bullet in the head will fix an incipient asthma attack every time". 
He may be up against it, but Duffy's sense of humour is as mordant as ever. Hang in for much caustic wit, funny observations, exciting twists, trenchant political commentary, and a splendid conclusion

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Mystery People Interview

Molly Odintz: So the idea that Sean Duffy can quit smoking is rather laughable to me. Will he ever get his health together in the context of life in such a stressful position? 
Adrian McKinty: I seriously doubt it. I knew many coppers in that era and all of them were huge social drinkers and chain smokers that you would be foolish to try and keep up with. But there’s always hope. I think he’s probably off the cocaine for good now which is nice.
MO: In your latest, you show how entrenched and mafia-like the paramilitaries have become by the late 80s, especially when it comes to drug crimes. By the late 80s, do you think more paramilitaries were motivated by power and money than politics? 
AM: By the early 80s it was obvious that the Troubles were not going to end anytime soon so the smarter/more cynical ones diversified into protect rackets and drugs. At a famous meeting in Belfast in 1985 supposedly mortal enemies the IRA and UVF met to divide Belfast into drug territories. And that is still the case to this very day.

“Life in Northern Ireland in the 70s and 80s was utterly surreal and bizarre. There’s no other way to talk about it except in wry tones, cynical tones with shades of black humor and horror.”

MO: Like many of your Duffy novels, a small crime reveals a vast conspiracy. Without getting specific on the plot details, how do you craft a story that starts so small and gets so big? 
AM: It’s different every time, sometimes you write the story and ideas pop up along the way but other times you do the research and start plotting. I've written 2 locked room mysteries and those had to be densely plotted in advance. Other books are more seat of the pants. I recently finished a 42 page synopsis for a standalone book I haven’t written yet, which is a new record for me…maybe that was a bit excessive but it’s often smart to map out the territory esp in a twisty conspiracy.
MO: You do an excellent job of showing how the Troubles weren’t one continuous pitched battle, but lots of little flareups, based on how closely paramilitaries, soldiers, police and civilians adhered to a set of complex social behaviors. Ordinary life continues, but in severely curtailed forms. How do you pick the moments for your settings? How much were the Troubles an excuse to be a libertine (for example, Duffy’s drug use) versus reinforcing conservative behavior standards (for example, marriage within one’s primary religious group)?
AM: That’s a good question. Remember I was a school kid in the 80s and every day even after a major bombing or atrocity life went on as normal. We had to get up and go to school. And people had to shop, work, get unemployment whatever in the midst of this low level civil war. Some weeks it felt comparatively normal but other times it felt like a war, like the evacuation of Aleppo or something. It’s been a challenge to convey that tone in these novels and also not to forget the mordant, black (very black) Belfast humour that people used as a coping mechanism. The thing a lot of those Troubles movies made by outsiders get wrong about Ulster in the 70s and 80s is the sarcasm and the dark humour. You wouldn't know it but Belfast people are actually pretty funny.
MO: Duffy’s gone domestic, but he’s still in as much danger as ever. What did you want to explore about having a family in a troubled time? 
AM: I like the idea of encumbering a lone wolf with wife and child. Makes his life more difficult and interesting for me as a novelist. I’m not knocking other mystery thrillers here but I get a bit weary with series titles that merely hit the reset button at the beginning of each instalment. I like characters who change and arc and grow….
MO: I love how you point out the absurdities within a serious situation without detracting from the reader’s sense of imminent danger for the characters, a skill shared by many of the great noir writers. Is that the genre talking, or a cynicism entirely your own? 
AM: Life in Northern Ireland in the 70s and 80s was utterly surreal and bizarre. There’s no other way to talk about it except in wry tones, cynical tones with shades of humor and horror. Sometimes something would happen that seemed like a classic French farce or an episode of Fawlty Towers, other times your heart was breaking. Tonally that’s a BIG challenge to get across. One moment you're laughing, crying the next. The crime novel, the noir crime novel in particular is a great vector for those kind of ideas with its abrupt changes of mood and its world weary stance. Everyone was always cracking jokes. Often they worked, often they didn't. I remember as a kid finding a shell casing in the street and smuggling it into my sister Diane's handbag so that it would be found the next time she had her handbag searched going into the centre of Belfast (you had to be searched just going into the city centre in those days). My sister ended up nearly getting arrested and thrown in jail when she couldn't explain how the .303 cartridge got there. Now at the time me and my little brother thought that was absolutely hilarious, but in retrospect maybe not so much...

“….I was a school kid in the 80s and every day even after a major bombing or atrocity life went on as normal. We had to get up and go to school. And people had to shop, work, get unemployment whatever in the midst of this low level civil war…”

MO: I know you considered Duffy’s story finished after you completed the Troubles Trilogy, but you’ve returned to the character multiple times and I couldn’t be happier about it. There seem to be an endless number of tales of corruption, cynicism, greed, and failed revolution for Duffy to explore. What’s next for him? 
AM: I’m afraid I have no idea about that one. I’ll know in a few months what’s next. Hopefully.
MO: Northern Ireland has a long and complex history, and in your Duffy series, you’ve focused on the 1980s, which seems the perfect setting for a mixture of violent crime and decadent music. If you were to write a historical crime novel set in a different period of Northern Ireland’s history, what settings would you want to explore? 
AM: Oh my God I would love to do Belfast today, right now. It’s so weird to go back there with its trendy cafes and Michelin starred restaurants, Game of Thrones tours, hipster bars, stag and hen nights, celebrity spotting etc. Its bizarre walking around with all these happy young people and remembering the apocalyptic nightmare of just 2 1/2 decades earlier….
MO: How would the Duffy novels read differently, do you think, if they had been written in the midst of the Troubles? Does a writer need a certain distance from their subject matter to properly tackle the traumas of history (at least, via crime novel)? 
AM: I think if I’d written these books in the 80s or even 90s they would be a lot angrier and more bitter. You definitely need to get a perspective on people. I don’t say tout comprendre c’est tout pardonner but I do feel temporal and geographic distance helps a lot.
You can find copies of Police at the Station and They Don’t Look Friendly on our shelves and via

Monday, March 20, 2017

Writing Advice From Raymond Chandler

Raymond Chandler to Frederick Lewis Allen (Harper's) dated May 7, 1948.  

"A long time ago when I was writing for pulps I put into a story a line like "he got out of the car and walked across the sun-drenched sidewalk until the shadow of the awning over the entrance fell across his face like the touch of cool water."  They took it out when they published the story.  Their readers didn't appreciate this sort of thing: just held up the action.  And I set out to prove them wrong.  My theory was they just thought they cared nothing about anything but the action; that really, although they didn't know it, they cared very little about the action.  The things they really cared about, and that I cared about, were the creation of emotion through dialogue and description; the things they remembered, that haunted them, were not for example that a man got killed, but that in the moment of his death he was trying to pick a paper clip up off the polished surface of a desk, and it kept slipping away from him, so that there was a look of strain on his face and his mouth was half open in a kind of tormented grin, and the last thing in the world he thought about was death.  He didn't even hear death knock on the door.  That damn little paper clip kept slipping away from his fingers and he just wouldn't push it to the edge of the desk and catch it as it fell."

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

My Favourite Albums Of All Time

Rejigging the list for 2017... 
A list which is always changing, always evolving, sometimes devolving. At the moment the present state of play is below and in a month or two it'll be different again. You'll notice no Beatles (with one kind of exception) or Stones or Springsteen or even Led Zeppelin (?!) (played to death unfortunately, but with R&R they will come back) or much rap. This isn't a PC list like Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums or a hipster collection like the NME list. Its merely my favourites. Old fashioned? Out of touch? Sure. I've limited myself to one album per artist and you'll notice that most of the records are in that sweet spot 1965 - 1979 when books, films and records were just better. 

1. The Velvet Underground - The Velvet Underground & Nico
2. Her Best: The 50th Anniversary Collection - Etta James
3. Blood on the Tracks - Bob Dylan
4. OK Computer - Radiohead
5. Astral Weeks - Van Morrison
6. Very Best Of - Joan Armatrading
7. Nevermind - Nirvana
8. Pink Moon - Nick Drake
9. Wu Tang vs The Beatles - Tom Caruana, The Wu Tang Clan, The Beatles
10. Franks Wild Years - Tom Waits
11. Parallel Lines - Blondie
12. PJ Harvey - PJ Harvey
13. I'm Your Man - Leonard Cohen
14. At Folsom Prison - Johnny Cash
15. Dummy - Portishead
16. Horses - Patti Smith
17. Kind of Blue - Miles Davis
19. Are You Experienced - Jimi Hendrix
20. The Undertones - The Undertones
21. Automatic For The People - REM
22. The Black Album - Jay Z
23. Never Mind The Bollocks - The Sex Pistols
24. Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd
25. Liege and Lief - Fairport Convention
26. Coat of Many Colors - Dolly Parton
27. The Smiths - The Smiths
28. The Violent Femmes - The Violent Femmes
29. Best Of - The Talking Heads (but David Byrne's best song Nothing But Flowers isn't on it!)
30. Dusty In Memphis - Dusty Springfield

Thursday, March 9, 2017

The Irish Times Reviews Police At The Station

Declan Burke in the Irish Times reviews Police at the Station thusly:

Impressive series

Police at the Station and They Don’t Look Friendly (Serpent’s Tail, €15.99) is the sixth in Adrian McKinty’s increasingly impressive series to feature Sean Duffy, a Catholic detective working for the RUC during the Troubles.
The mystery begins with a bizarre murder, when drug dealer Francis Deauville is shot to death with a crossbow. When Duffy starts to wonder why an “independent” drug dealer who has been paying protection to the paramilitaries has been assassinated in such an exotic fashion, he finds himself assailed on all sides. Persecuted by the RUC's internal affairs unit and fending off IRA attacks, Duffy digs deep into Northern Ireland’s recent past to uncover a tale of collusion, corruption and unsolved murder.
The plot is as tortuously twisting as McKinty’s readers have come to expect but it’s the tone that proves the novel’s most enjoyable aspect. McKinty delivers a first-person tale of cheerfully grim fatalism and often hilarious Prod-Taig banter, the story chock-a-block with cultural references, from NWA and Kylie Minogue to Miami Vice and The Myth of Sisyphus.

Saturday, February 25, 2017

Rain Dogs Up For Its Fifth Major Award

I just found out today that my novel Rain Dogs has been shortlisted for the 2017 Barry Award for Best Crime Novel of the year (paperback original). I am very honoured to be nominated and I would like to thank the jury for thinking of me and shortlisting the book. 

Rain Dogs is the fifth of my Sean Duffy novels and I guess its the one where I finally got everything right, judging from the impact its been having! In case you don't know: Rain Dogs is a locked room mystery (more of a locked castle really) that takes place during the Northern Irish Troubles in 1987 featuring my copper, RUC Detective Inspector Sean Duffy and his comrades in arms. 

Rain Dogs has also been shortlisted for the 2016 Ned Kelly Award, the 2016 Theakston Crime Novel of the Year Award, the 2016 (Steel) Dagger Award and of course the 2017 Edgar Award (best pbk original). So far I'm 0/3 in the big prizes. I didn't win the Ned Kelly, or the Theakston or the Dagger but I'm still in with a shot of an Edgar and of course the Barry. 

Rain Dogs is the only book that I know of to have been shortlisted for five major crime fiction awards. 

Many thanks to everyone who has somehow found this book which came out with little fanfare in a limited edition with 2 tiny presses. You, the readers, have kept me going with your emails and tweets and letters and I wd long ago have given up writing, period, if it hadn't been for your support.  

Here's me reading chapter 1 of Rain Dogs, when Muhammad Ali came to Belfast: 

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

A Paragraph In A Notebook

6 years ago this week I wrote the first paragraph of what wd subsequently become book 1 of my Sean Duffy series. I wrote the paragraph in a notebook in longhand and forgot about it for about 6 months and when I found it again, I thought, I wonder what that's about and I began thinking. . .As Harold Bloom says we're all living under the anxiety of all our influences. Many influences jump out at me as I look at the paragraph. 'beauty of its own' is probably an echo of Yeats; the 2nd sentence is a deliberate homage to Gravity's Rainbow complete with the American word gasoline instead of petrol; the torpedoed prison ship is probably a reference to the sinking of Montevideo Maru; 'Knockagh Mountain' always struck me as amusing because Knockagh in Irish means 'mountain' so this is kind of a joke; the lovers/Afterlife line reminds me of a bit in Ursula LeGuin's Tombs of Atuin;  no one spoke, words...inadequate is something that Samuel Beckett said at the end of his life and of course its what Wittgenstein famously claimed; don't know where the 'God of curves' bit came from but I dig it....Anyway it all became paragraph 1 of book 1 and here it is, exactly as it appeared in my notebook:
The riot had taken on a beauty of its own now. Arcs of gasoline fire under the crescent moon. Crimson tracer in mystical parabolas. Phosphorescence from the barrels of plastic bullet guns. A distant yelling like that of men below decks in a torpedoed prison ship. The scarlet whoosh of Molotovs intersecting with exacting surfaces. Helicopters everywhere: their spotlights finding one another like lovers in the Afterlife.
        I watched with the others by the Land Rover on Knockagh Mountain. No one spoke. Words were inadequate. You needed a Picasso for this scene, not a poet.
        The police and the rioters were arranged in two ragged fronts that ran across a dozen streets, the opposing sides illuminated by the flash of newsmen’s cameras and the burning, petrol-filled milk bottles sent tumbling across the no man’s land like votive offerings to the god of curves.

Monday, February 20, 2017

2 crimewriters pod

I'm interviewed on the latest 2 crime writers podcast with Steve Cavanagh and Luca Veste. Its mostly me complaining about Sherlock and Dr Who, telling old rugby stories and recollecting some of my more disastrous book readings. 

You can listen to it here. I'm on about 50 minutes in I think...

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

When Satire Fails

When Peter Cook founded the "Establishment Club" - a revue bar featuring satirical humour - in London in 1968 he expressed the hope that the venue wd be "just as successful as those satirical cabarets in Berlin in the 1930s that did so much to prevent the rise of Hitler." Satire often doesn't work. The more biting and clever the satire the less effective it often is. I remember reading the reviews of Paul Verhoeven's Starship Troopers with incredulity: respected critics didn't get that it was a satire on Leni Riefenstahl. Indeed it seems that a majority of the critics at the time didn't understand that the film was an allegory about the growth of fascism. A fortiori cinema goers - many of whom seem to have rejected the director and screenwriter's intent and imposed their own meaning on the film. In their eyes Starship Troopers was not a satire on xenophobia and fascism at all but a warning about foreigners/aliens and a trumpet blast against weak liberals who can't be trusted to keep us safe. 
Not only does satire often fail but sometimes it does the very opposite of what it is meant to be doing. For those of you who think SNL is skewering the Trump administration, I have some news for you, I bet you, in fact, it's actually bolstering the views of Trump's supporters and fans. Malcolm Gladwell in a great podcast on satire shows how SNL's piss take of Sarah Palin actually helped Sarah Palin. Similarly the famous puppet show Spitting Imagine that supposedly mercilessly mocked Mrs Thatcher was actually a boon for Mrs Thatcher's image and reputation. And there are numerous other examples. (Listen to the Gladwell. He gets on my nerves too but he's great here.) My point is that if respected critics can't see the joke don't be surprised if a supposed 'low information' voter doesn't see the joke either. [Its rarer of course that really bad art gets thought of as 'satire' when it isn't but I assume that the occasional Springtime For Hitler situation does exist in real life too.] I wonder too if there are any anti-war satires that actually work at all? Apocalypse Now and Full Metal Jacket - supposedly blistering anti-war bromides were in fact favourite films of soldiers and marines in the Iraq war...
Anyway here's RedLetterMedia's recent review (below) of Starship Troopers where they point out what should have been obvious. Two of their more interesting observations are about the lighting (deliberately bland) and the casting (the leads were cast because they appeared to be 'dead behind the eyes'.) None of this, however, has stopped Starship Troopers from becoming a favourite film of skinheads and the Alt Right. Perhaps the critics weren't so naive after all....

Sunday, February 12, 2017

The Australian Reviews Police At The Station

its tough to get newspaper reviews for the sixth book in what essentially is a cult series, but there have, fortunately, been a few. Here's Peter Pierce in the Weekend Australian: 

There are abundant talents in the crime fiction business, one of them an immigrant to Australia from Northern Ireland, via the US. Adrian McKinty had originally planned a Troubles trilogy, set in Northern Ireland in the 1980s and featuring detective (and sometimes inspector, depending how much strife he has caused) Sean Duffy, a bleakly joking, poetry-quoting Catholic in the Protestant-dominated Royal Ulster Constabulary.
McKinty is alert both to the deep past and the present agonies of the province. In the Police at the Station and They Don’t Look Friendly, and it’s perhaps the best of the lot in the wit of its dialogue, inwardness with the sectarian bitterness of the damaged province, and — essentially — in having a complex and memorably flawed hero in Duffy. In a brilliant opening scene — deadly and funny — Duffy is taken into an ancient word, ‘‘a relic of the Holocene forest that once covered all of Ireland’’, where ‘‘a huge fallen oak lay like a dead god’’. His captors are an IRA hit squad intent on silencing Duffy before he detects a long-rumoured mole within the upper tanks of the RUC.The first three books were so successful that Melbourne-based McKinty has stretched to a sixth, 
As Duffy ruefully reflects, ‘‘there’s no future in this country’’. That means there isn’t one either for his partner Beth, who is writing a thesis on Philip K. Dick at Queen’s University, or their infant daughter Emma.
Meanwhile Duffy is able to skip a St Patrick’s Purgatory pilgrimage with his father because a drug dealer has been killed with a crossbow bolt on a housing estate which may be, ‘‘[an Ulster Volunteer Force-] ridden shithole filled with whores, druggies and scumbags’’. Duffy arrives at ‘‘the unhappy window between people returning from their morning dole appointments and daytime TV kicking in’’.
The novel is sympathetic, funny and despairing in depicting the social landscape that McKinty acutely recalls from his youth. Belfast is a paradigm for future cities: ‘‘mined and fractured, walled and utilitarian’’. Textile plants and shipyards have closed, and the showdown is staged in a dank, abandoned factory. Some, such as the dour, upright, hilariously deadpan Sergeant McCrabban (a triumph of the series) resist the collapse stoically.
Duffy prefers mordant wit that graces nearly every page. When the Bulgarian translator called in to help with the crossbow murder praises the local beer, Duffy reflects that ‘‘Harp was an acquired taste like coprophagia or getting pissed on by hookers’’.
More direly, he has to repulse an attack on his house, investigate the murder and find a scheme to entrap his suspect.
McKinty handles all this business with intelligence and elan. Crime is the subject, but Police at the Station and They Don’t Look Friendly will prove to be one of the best novels to be published in any genre this year. 

Friday, February 10, 2017

David Peace's New Novel

Is David Peace the best novelist in England? Yes. Yes he is. That is if he still lives in England. Sources are conflicting about that. Some people say he lives in rural Yorkshire with his Japanese wife and family (God help them) other sources say he lives in Japan. In either case he's still the most exciting contemporary English (very English in fact) novelist whose books are at the forefront of a completely new way of telling stories. Experimental, dark, weird (but not like, you know, Tim Burton weird - proper weird, weird) Peace is an inheritor of JG Ballard's trick of examining society through an exploration of psychology; but Peace, of course, looks backward into the disturbing near past not into the disturbing near future...
Anyway, I like David Peace and it was with some small measure of excitement that I noticed this listing. Faber are not saying what this is but someone on twitter told me it might be a book about MI5 and Harold Wilson. Sounds intriguing but actually it doesn't matter what its going to be about, it's a new David Peace novel and that is cause for celebration. 

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

The Irish Cannonball Run

I recently read a review of one of my books where the reviewer deducted a star because I had a fictional character drive from Donegal to Belfast in 90 minutes. She said this was frankly impossible because Google had told her that that drive takes 3 hours. Hmmmm. Let me just say that I have done that journey considerably faster than Google thinks is possible. In the wee hours when the peelers are asleep is the time when you can really fly...But let's leave that to one side. Complaining about that kind of thing in a novel is rather silly to me. In the fictional universe that these fictional characters inhabit one of them drove from Donegal to Belfast in 90 minutes. It happened. It just did and it says so right there in black and white. For more on what 'mistakes' matter and won't mistakes don't matter you can read this. But that's not what I wanted to talk about here. What I want to talk about here is the Cannonball Run Record. 
Google also tells you that the time it takes to drive from New York to Los Angeles is 42 hours. But in fact, the current holder of the Cannonball Run Record, Ed Bolian, has done it in 29 hours. Ed did this by modifying his car with a bigger petrol tank and buying sophisticated speed trap radar. The American Cannonball Run Record has a venerable tradition going back nearly 100 years but as far as I can see there is no record anywhere on the internet for the fastest crossing of Ireland, from the Atlantic Ocean to the Irish Sea. Without encouraging or condoning any illegality whatsoever and emphasising that dangerous driving can cost lives I'd like to maybe suggest a little Irish version of the Cannonball Run.  
There are many different ways to cross Ireland from the Atlantic to the Irish Sea/North Channel. The shortest route, of course, is to cheat and go from somewhere like Ballycastle to Cushendun or Kilmore Quay to Rosslare but that's, uhm, cheating. For this to count you have to drive right across Ireland from sea to shining sea. As the inventor of this contest (again without encouraging any wrong-doing, violation of traffic laws or dangerous driving) I'm going to say that three routes and three routes only are acceptable: Bundoran to Belfast, Galway to Dublin or Tralee to Wexford (Limerick to Wexford doesn't count I think because Limerick is not really on the Atlantic). Probably the fastest route is Galway to Dublin. When I drove this route a few years ago I started by throwing a stone into the Atlantic at Nimmo's Pier, Galway and finished it by throwing a stone onto the beach at Sandymount, Dublin 2 hours and thirty minutes later. I didn't authenticate my drive the way the Cannonballers do so I'm not going to claim this as the record. And its a crap time anyway, slower even than the Google time. I drove the route in a 2009 BMW 320i, leaving Galway at 5.45 in the morning hoping to avoid rush hour traffic in Dublin (I didn't). Almost certainly you can do better. 

Saturday, January 14, 2017

My Sixth Starred Booklist Review In A Row

No, this is not a reblog. Last month I had a post with the headline: my sixth starred Kirkus Review in a row. Starred reviews in Booklist are also rare. This is my sixth in a row:

Issue: February 1, 2017 Police at the Station and They Don't Look Friendly. McKinty, Adrian (Author) Mar 2017. 320 p. Prometheus/Seventh Street, paperback, $15.95. (9781633882591). e-book, $11.99. (9781633882607).


The chronicles of Sean Duffy could not be contained in Adrian McKinty’s Troubles trilogy, and this is the sixth novel in this excellent series (after Rain Dogs, 2016). For readers who have not shared in the rapture, there is no time like the present to join. In Royal Ulster Constabulary Detective Duffy, McKinty has created a Chandleresque character who goes down the mean streets of Belfast, “a man of honor—by instinct, by inevitability.” He is a conflicted man in a very conflicted 1980s Belfast, where warring factions both demand protection money from drug dealers and execute them under the auspices of DAADD (Direct Action against Drug Dealers).

Duffy’s investigation into the death of a pusher takes him down some dangerous roads, always checking under his Beemer for a mercury tilt switch bomb before he careens off in it. Like his literary hero, Jules Maigret, Duffy considers himself “thoroughly existentially jaded.” But he is also very much like his TV idol, Sonny Crockett, from Miami Vice. [Brenda: How do you go from this tranquility to that violence? Crockett: I usually take the Ferrari.] They each operate effectively in their own demimonde and are supported by high-caliber bromance. Driving it all is McKinty’s compelling literary style: Duffy’s first-person narrative and internalized musing are lyrical and lengthy at first, then reduced intermittently to terse one sentence statements that move the story along at an astonishing pace. A must read for fans of Stuart Neville and Celtic noir.

— Jane Murphy

Saturday, January 7, 2017

Big Thrill Q&A

Dear authors,
Congratulations again on your upcoming release. Although you were not one of the 10 authors selected for an interview through the (new) and random lottery, we're pleased to tell you that your book will still be featured in the March issue of The Big Thrill. If you haven't already, please send your responses to the questions on the submission form so that we can build your "landing page." In addition to your responses, the page will include a picture of your new release, along with the jacket copy blurb provided.

Bellow (sic) you will find the questions for your reference. 
1) What do you hope readers will take away from this book?
2) How does this book make a contribution to the genre?
3) Was there anything new you discovered as you wrote this book?
4) No spoilers, but what can you tell us about your book that we won’t find in the jacket copy or the PR material?
5) What authors or books have influenced your career as a writer, and why?

1) I believe readers will take away a deep seated feeling of anger that will turn into full blown rage at the waste of their time and money in reading my new novel. I hope their growing fury motivates them to demand their money back from the publisher or possibly ignites a Michael Kohlhaas style over reaction that leads to the fall of the imprint, the publishing house, the Republic and capitalism itself. 

2) I trust that this book will kill the genre stone dead and discourage future efforts along this road. 

3) Yes, I discovered a new continent south west of Tasmania but that's all I'm saying about it here because I want to keep its riches (largely edible kelp) to myself.

4) One PR man wrote the following (but they wouldn't let his copy go on the jacket): "It's clearly the unedited ravings of a lunatic - Do Not Publish."

5) Philip K Dick's period when he wrote 12 novels in six months under the influence of acid, horse tranquilisers and meth amphetamines. 

Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Police At The Station And They Don't Look Friendly

Sean Duffy #6, Police At The Station, is released in the UK and Ireland today. If it's your sort of thing you can get it at all the usual places. American, Australian and Audio editions will be forthcoming in the coming months...5000 experience points and my eternal gratitude if you leave me a review s'where. 
Coimhead fearg fhear na foighde.

Saturday, December 24, 2016

Why Carrickfergus Is The Happiest Place On Earth

Far and away my most popular post of the year for some reason...
According to the British National Statistics Bureau the happiest place in the United Kingdom is Northern Ireland. Even more surprisingly the happiest place in Northern Ireland is the borough of East Antrim. In other words Carrickfergus is the place in the entire United Kingdom where residents are most content and happiest. If you're a math geek like me you can explore these stats even further. The happiest country in the world with a happiness rating of 7.7 is, famously, Denmark. But East Antrim's happiness rating is 8.3 according to the most recent stats. The methodology of the surveys is slightly different but the results are pretty clear: Carrickfergus is actually the place on planet Earth where residents are the most contented. Not Hawaii, not the Rive Gauche, not the vineyards of Northern California, not Disneyland. No, Carrickfergus. According to the Guardian newspaper even the civil servants reporting on this survey found this all very hard to believe. But I believe it and I have some theories as to why this is so: 

1. The strong sense of community. Go shopping with my sisters or my mum and you'll be there all day. They know everybody and everybody knows them. When I lived on Coronation Road I knew every single person on the street and could have dinner at anybody's house and any of those kids could have dinner at my house. You want to know why the Troubles were so terrible for so long? Because it was a family dispute and those things are the worst. 
2. We know our history. Every kid in Northern Ireland knows where he came from and his context in the history of Ireland and the world. How can you not when there's graffiti everywhere telling us to "Remember 1690" or "Remember 1916" etc. Knowing that you are part of a narrative that stretches all the way back to the Great Rift Valley gives one a tremendous feeling of comfort and well being. There's a pub in Carrick that is 500 years old. The castle has been standing there for 800 years. We also remember our recent history. A lot of people walking the streets feel like Private Joker at the end of Full Metal Jacket. Everybody that lived through the Troubles is just relieved and grateful that those desperate days are behind us. 
3. Everyone plays an instrument. They just do. Its part of the culture. And when you've got the blues you can play the blues and that helps. 
4. Kids in school are forced to memorise poetry. That helps too when you're feeling depressed. Trust me. 
5. Sense of humour. The worst thing you can say of someone from Norn Irn is that "they have no sense of humour". That I'm afraid is a deal breaker for potential boyfriends, girlfriends or spouses. Pretty much everything else can be tolerated but if you're humourless you are toast. Trust someone who has lived in 14 different cities in 4 continents - Belfast people have the driest, dourest, blackest sense of humour on Earth. Thats what EVERY single Troubles movie has gotten wrong. The shocking sentimental bullshit music and the lack of jokes. 
6. The sense of humour again. This cannot be overemphasised. You know why my Duffy novels are funny? Because they are mimetic. 
7. Sang froid. We don't take ourselves or life too seriously. We like to think we keep a cool head in a crisis. cf Thomas Andrews, Lord Alanbrooke, Blair Mayne etc. etc.
8. The food and drink. Much maligned but maligned without reason. An Ulster fry is by far the greatest breakfast on Earth. A pint of Guinness or porter in my sister's pub, Ownies, is surely the greatest drink on the planet. Irish stew? The trout, the salmon? One of the best chippies in the world (The Victoria HotSpot in Victoria). And you should try my mum's baked goods...
9. The scenery. Up there on the high bog behind the Glens is God's Own Country and there's a reason why all the most spectacular shots in Game of Thrones were filmed on the Antrim Coast.  
10. Mustn't grumble. Over the water people whinge about bloody everything. In Ulster people are made of sterner stuff. Visit someone in Belfast on their death bed and this is the sort of thing you'll hear. "Ach, Archie, they say you have a week to live? How are you doing, mate?" "I can't complain."