People of the Great Journey

At last I can make my announcement! The delay was due to contract negotiations. I just don't believe in claiming things until the official paperwork is done and dusted. So here is a draft of the cover of my new book, best described as an adult fairy tale but I would also use the term "mystic fiction." I LOVE the cover design. A question has been added just above the stones (that's the Callanish megalith in the Outer Hebrides): WOULD YOU GO IF YOU WERE CALLED? My new publishers are Hay House UK (of the Louise Hay empire)and I love them to bits. See my blog post below with pic of yummy lunch. They have entirely renewed my faith in the publishing industry though I suspect they are the exception to the rule. The book will be out in November of this year, just before Christmas! Print and e-book will both be available in the UK, Eire, USA, Canada, South Africa, Australia and New Zealand (I think that's everybody). Did I mention phone calls from Hollywood? No, I didn't. But there have been and, as with the announcement of the book, I will hold my fire until locked and loaded. (Hmm, military flavour to both posts today.)

PROUST

Proust is one of those authors like Anais Nin, Dostoevsky and Victor Hugo who separate the chicken readers from the chicken hawks. Do you have the mental stamina and intellectual acumen to take them on? Do you have the time? I attempted a run at Proust in my teenaged blue-stocking period when I was determined to prove myself an intellectual heavy-weight. Failed in the first round. Lost the will to live. But here is a little gem that gives you a soupcon of his brilliance without you having to make a seven-course meal of In Search of Lost Time. De Botton's book is not the "dazzling" work John Updike and various critics claim it to be - the mere mention of Proust creates shock and awe in others - and I'm not entirely convinced that the author critic has actually read Proust as most of his quotes come from letters, diaries, critical pieces, friends' memoirs and so on, in other words secondary not primary material; however, it is a charming, entertaining and thought-provoking work - aussi trés amusant - and I suspect Proust would have liked it. Best of all, it has encouraged me to take another look at that daunting writer. Perhaps. Maybe. Oh God ... life is too short ...

Article in Network Magazine

I wrote an article about the year I am spending at Jampa Ling Tibetan Buddhist Centre in the green countryside of County Cavan. It has been published in the April/May/June edition of Network, Ireland's holistic magazine which publishes mind, body, spirit and ecology pieces. It also advertises all the weird and wonderful workshops, events, retreats, and talks available in the Irish alternative community. Under new management, the magazine has a glossier look with full colour graphics and is well worth subscribing to. Here's their website: www.networkmagazine.ie. I did mention I was helping to run a Tibetan Buddhist Centre this year, didn't I? It's not exactly a sabbatical as I am writing copious notes for my next book which will tell of my relationship with my teacher, Panchen Otrul Rinpoche, including travels in his company to India (last year) and Outer Mongolia (this year). In my mind, the book is a cross between Herman Hesse's Journey to the East and Andrew Harvey's Hidden Journey. But will it be fiction or non-fiction? That is the question. Won't know for sure until I am well into the writing of it.

Beyond Belief

So I fire up the google news today and what do I find? A meth-dealing Catholic priest who laundered his ill-gotten gains through his sex toy shop and a book written by a survivor of the Church of Scientology - the niece of the head of Scientology no less - exposing a childhood of hard labour, cruelty and abuse. You couldn't make this stuff up. The priest is looking at 14 years and the book is called Beyond Belief: My Secret Life Inside Scientology and my Harrowing Escape. So, what am I talking about here? Cults who abuse children in the name of religion and whose upper echelons remain untouched by law.

Staring at Lakes by Michael Harding

Thought I would review an Irish book for St Paddy's Day. It's the most recent work of fiction I've read, so very fitting. I've known Michael since the 1980s when we used to camp out at the Tyrone Guthrie Centre at Annagmakerrig, an artist's retreat in the heart of the Irish countryside. (That's tongue in cheek about the camping, it's a luxurious mansion serving Ballymaloe meals.) Other writers and critics have said this book is wonderful, and it's on the Irish bestseller list, so you needn't think I'm biased when I give it the 20 minutes of well-reasoned praise we all covet in a review. It's a compelling, if harrowing read. Being non-fiction, it's not his usual kind of work - I've read Priest and The Trouble With Sarah Gullion, both powerful, beautifully written books. The first is my favourite, a collection of short stories from the time he was a Catholic priest. I also saw one of his plays at the Peacock Theatre in Dublin: the fantastic and fantastical Una Pooka. He's a man with a raw wild energy just barely locked inside him, like a sleeping dragon or volcano, which erupts into prose, mad partying, and - according to his memoir - black episodes of self-loathing and despair. "You're dangerous," I said to him once, only half joking. "I wouldn't want to be considered harmless," he replied. Staring at Lakes is not an easy read. For one thing, it's all over the shop, jumping through time, with tone and mood as changeable as the Irish weather. Form reflects content! If you are inclined to depression, you just might find yourself too close to the border of that country. His honesty is excrutiating. And he's devastatingly hard on himself, like most crucified Irish men of his age and background. In contrast, it's a joy to read about the love of and for his wife and child: islands of joy in the sea of suffering. Ireland is a small place. We all end up crossing each other's songlines. Michael not only writes of his time at Annaghmakerrig - must say, I remember him having much more fun than he writes of, indeed leading us all on Dionysian dances!; but he also describes his relationship with Tibetan Buddhism and the same lama who is my teacher. (I'll be following in Michael's footsteps when I journey to Outer Mongolia this year in the company of the lama.) One of the most potent pieces of writing in this book is the description of a young Tibetan's life and the murder of the boy's mother by soldiers. So, I highly recommend the book, but don't expect for a minute, a light or entertaining read.

My Readers Come to Ireland

From time to time I get the most amazing correspondence from my readers. Sometimes they write to tell me that my stories helped them through a difficult time such as their parents' divorce or the death of a sibling. I feel so sad for them, but I'm also glad that my books could provide some solace. I also receive happy tales of decisions to journey to Ireland and travel the routes my characters have taken. This is a pic of one reader who ended up on the Hill of Tara, the seat of the ancient high kings of Eire, with her copy of The Hunter's Moon. (Yes, I have Katherine's permission to blog her.) Another two young women - Shannon and Eleri - wrote an incredible email about how they met when working in a remote camp overlooking a glacier in British Columbia. Sharing a tent together (must ask them what on earth their jobs were, sounds very Canadian) they discovered a mutual love of books including a favourite childhood book whose title they couldn't remember. But they did remember two girls travelling around Ireland in pursuit of the fairies and they decided they would do the same thing! Their email tells of a magical mystery tour that did indeed follow Gwen and Findabhair from Tara, criss-crossing the countryside and up to Inch Island in County Donegal. Though they found Ireland changed in many ways - the homeless in Dublin, the urban encroachment on the green fields, the fact it simply is NOT safe to hitch-hike here anymore (though many still do) - they were delighted to find that Irish people are still wonderfully warm and friendly, the old stones and castles are still standing, and the fairies may yet be looking out for curious travellers.

Reader Review in Images!

I meant to post this a long time ago but forgot. (Unless, of course, I did and it's somewhere back in the past blogs. My memory is getting worse the older I get. I think I'm getting flakier too.) This is a great review chiefly of The Hunter's Moon with short references to the other three books in the Chronicles of Faerie series. I love my readers. They are so creative and talented.