Irish Theatre Awards : Making a Mark

Sunday night saw Ireland's luvvies flock to The Burlo for the presentation of this year's Irish Times Theatre Awards. Seems to have been a swell occasion, with a special tribute award for Lynne Parker, artistic director of Rough Magic Theatre Company.

The Best Actress award was presented to Deirbhle Crotty, for her role as Masha in the Friel version of Chekhov's Three Sisters. You can read my review of that production here. I've seen Crotty a few times now, and she's (ahem) a class act. Depending on the material, she can bring an old-school showbiz sass to bear, while mining the emotional centre of her character. And she entertains; a great, expressive dry humour to her - even in darker outposts (think Rosaleen Linehan channeling Dorothy Parker). Crotty is currently appearing in Marble at the Abbey (see below). So, git yerself along to that lovely venue and catch the award-winner herself in full effect.

Best Actor went to Tom Vaughan Lawler, for his remarkable turn in The Resistable Rise of Arturo Ui, also at the Abbey. You can read my thoughts on that absolutely rivetting performance here.

Now, here's a little bit of trivia for you. You see that nice logo up there - emoting actor centre stage, elated shadow on the backdrop? Guess who designed that particular item, over twelve (if not more!) years ago? Yes, I'm happy to reveal that it was me! Not long after I'd plunged into my career as freelance graphic designer, I was briefed by (now-defunct?) marketing agency Dimension to create a 'figurative logo' for a newly planned theatre awards ceremony. It needed to be figurative so that a statuette could be developed. I did concept visuals for those too - but the final stauette design went a different way. At that time, the awards were to be sponsored by both The Irish Times and the ESB - meaning my beautifully conceived concept ended up with both those logos plonked on it - as well as a durrty great keyline box all round. Thankfully, a single sponsor now means some of the cleanliness has returned to the identity.

Having designed it on classic principles, with a long life in mind, I've enjoyed seeing the thing become a bit of an icon down the years. I hope it continues on as such - yet realise that one of these days it may well end up sacrificed, for a 'trendy' upgrade.

The illustration itself was created in brush and ink, then treated to a rigorous bout of 'moving-it-about-on-the-photocopier' - an earlier form of 'digital manipulation' - to create that pulled, distressed effect. I made oodles of these distorted copies, then cut and pasted the best bits back into a cohesive whole, scanning it into my trusty Power Mac 7500 for clean-up. Looking back now, I can see how influenced I was by the sculpture of Edward Delaney - particularly his famine piece in Stephen's Green.

The typography is a tweaked version of capitalis monumentalis letterforms, or Roman square capitals, as used for the inscription at the base of Trajan's Column from which the typeface - Trajan - takes its name.

Anyway, congratulation to all the winners - full list here - and best of luck to those who weren't successful this time. Hopefully, twelve months from now you'll be standing up there, along with my design work.

In it for the Long Haul!

The Spring 2009 issue of The Stinging Fly is out, and it's a big un!

Decan Meade’s Editorial points out that they've bucked the trend by having their Arts Council grant increased (!) in recognition of achievements to date. So, they've stepped up and have increased their page count to include 16 more pages of the very best in new Irish writing.

I had the rare luxury of an hour to myself yesterday, between work and meeting my good friend AT - down from Drogheda for the day - for a chat and a couple of jars. Settling at the burnished counter of The Long Hall, I cracked the cover for a leisurely porter-accompanied browse.

As always, there's a great roster of talent in this issue. I particularly liked a new feature (making use of those extra pages, I guess) where some familiar names give us their thoughts '...On First Drafts.' These include the venerable Dermot Healy, Colette Bryce (shortlisted for the Irish Times Poetry Now Award 2009), Mia Gallagher (gave a great reading at the launch of Let's Be Alone Together back in September) , Nuala Ní Chonchúir (regular visitor to this parish), (distinguished and industrious) poet and translator Peter Sirr, and Philip O Ceallaigh, whose 'Notes From A Turkish Whorehouse' was one of my favourite short story collections of recent years. His second collection 'The Pleasant Light of Day' is due for release in March. Looking forward to that!

All shared their particular view of the merits, dangers, processes and even outright jettisoning of the first draft. This is good stuff – straight from the horse’s mouth (…sorry folks – but then, horses are cool beasts too!). Very interesting to those of us whose first drafts still have training wheels!

First impressions were of the usual high standard in prose and reviews, and I found myself well impressed with the poetry I browsed too. Sometimes I find this the weaker leg of the stool with the Fly. Understandable, in a way, seeing as publications such as Cyphers, The SHOp, Poetry Ireland Review and many others cater for the breadth of Irish poetry. Also, the Fly has quite a specific perspective and character, reflected in the editorial choices. I’m not saying poetry selections are in any way weak – quite the opposite. But in some previous issues, I’ve felt the verse overwhelmed a bit by the sheer zest of the short fiction. On first read, that’s not the case here – Paula Meehan’s poem dedicated to Tony Gregory, and Brian McNeil's translation of work by Knut Ødegård both came off the page on first view.

The regular First Passions feature has Joseph O’Connor writing about his relationship with The Catcher In The Rye. How he goes back to it every few years - almost as pilgrimage - only to find a new novel waiting. There’s shades of Holden Caulfield elsewhere too, in the light-fingered and internally mouthy protaganist of one of the new stories here. I think it was the story by Michéal Donnellan, but must admit my reading was a bit curtailed - the issue looked so good, I gave it to AT, for his bus trip home! Not to worry - I've ordered another and look forward to completing my peruse. You should too – order here - at seven euro this issue, in particular, seems exceptional value!

It’s all about the Fly at the mo! Scottish writer James Kelman also has a new story int his issue and will be giving a public reading TONIGHT! In IADT, Baker Corner, Room A019 at 7pm sharp. All welcome. He’s hosted by Writer in Residence with Dun Laoghaire County Council and IADT Sean O' Reilly.

Also, Orlaith O'Sullivan has just been announced the winner of the 2008 Stinging Fly Prize. Orlaith's story 'A Tall Tale' appeared in the Summer 2008 issue. I read it while on holiday in Spain and, despite glorious Iberian aridity, this evocative story I was immersed deep in the story's green, watery chill factor. You can read the judges report here and the story itself here.

Finally, The Stinging Fly also also organises the Davy Byrnes Irish Writing Award 2009. (You can see why the Arts Council were so impressed!) The competition is now closed, entries are in and the shortlist is due late May / early June. Considering the winner of the first Davy Byrnes Award back in 2004 went on to win the Booker Prize, and the runners up on that occasion included (once again) Philip O Ceallaigh, who won the 2006 Rooney Prize, and Kevin Barry, who won the Rooney Prize in 2007, this year’s list should make for (ahem) interesting reading. Phew! Now, I really must fly.

Raccoon in the Restaurant

The good people at the Evening Herald's HQ magazine (Hi Sue!) asked me to review Meridien Theatre Company's production 'Raccoon' which is currently running at Bewleys Café Theatre, during lunchtimes, until August 23rd. You can read that review here

This really is a very good show, so if you're in the Grafton Street area for lunch before the run ends, I'd recommend it highly. The writer is an American named Tom Hall and, based on this play, I'd think his short stories (I'm guessing he's written a few) should be well worth a read. That's if anybody knows where I might find them / him? According to the bumph, he's lived in Mexico, Cork & Wexford but is now based in Dublin. 'Raccoon' also features in a double bill 'The Lost Field' from Meridien - which will be touring nationwide this November - so keep your eyes peeled.

Meridien are a lively and innovative company, with some interesting work in their archive. Their forthcoming production is 'There Are Little Kingdoms' - a play based on the short story collection of the same name by Kevin Barry. Barry was a worthy winner of the 2007 Rooney Prize for this cracking collection of tales from small-town Ireland - one of the best debut collections of recent years. The author himself is adapting the work for stage, so make a note folks, this should be a pretty hot ticket, IMHO.

Wolff Enright (not a law firm!)

I only made it to one event during this year's Dublin Writers Festival. The festival coincided with a pretty hectic pre-holiday period for me plus I was a bit word-weary for a while there. However, I did manage to make it along to this event. Couldn't have missed it really, as I admire and enjoy Wolff's writing in a big way. To have him double-heading with the bould Enright was just too good a ticket to pass on.

It was a pretty full house on the night (and very muggy inside - what's the story Project?). First up with the introductions was Niall McMonagle, who then welcomed both writers to the stand. Enright read her story Honey from her recent collection Taking Pictures. This story was originally the worthwhile winner of the inaugural Davy Byrnes Award (for which Wolff had been one of the judges). It's a typical Enright story - as much as such a thing exists? A crackling, vernacular and bleakly humourous narrative of a protaganist whorled up in guilt, grief and gumption, spitting and fidgeting towards some kind of release. Enright is adept at traversing her characters across passages of brittle, iced language compacted into suspended, breathless near-hysteria, only to skid on a word or two into pools of warmth and emotion. So it was here. As Wolff followed her to the podium, he exclaimed that he'd be pleased to hand over the award cheque again - so good was this story. It was a wonderful reading of a classic modern story, IMHO. The good news is that Honey is available to read online over on the Irish Times website. The bad news is that only available by subscription! Here's the link.

Wolff followed up with two of his own classics: Say Yes (which you'll find here) and Bullet in the Brain, (read by T. Coraghessan Boyle in a podcast here). Both are cracking stories - not neccessarily what I would consider his most representative work, so an interesting choice.

After that, we needed a pause to breathe and let the words settle. Then we were off into a somewhat fractured discussion on the short story which, in truth, contained cliche as well as insight. But there were tasty moments too. Considering the merits of the story versus the novel, Wolff opined that Randall Jarrell's (?) somewhat glib definition of the novel as "a work in prose of a certain length that has something wrong with it" could equally be applied to the short story. I also seem to recollect that he commented on the story form having more in common with poetry than with the novel, but my memory might just be channelling Wolff's close friend, Ray Carver on this recollection - I know I've heard him say this.

Discussing the start of a story, Enright said she 'doesn't do' beginnings. Also, she doesn't have much time for those writers who claim not to know whether a piece will become a story or a novel. For her it's one or the other, from the off. She also said something interesting on endings. For her, it's not so much about the endline as the silence that follows it - and how that differs from the silence before the story began. A bit precious maybe, but a compelling consideration.

Also discussing endlines, Wolff commented on Carver's skill in this area, turning the most open and inconclusive lines into a kind of revery. He referenced the endline of Carver's story 'Gazebo' for this. I don't have this to hand just now. Crack a book :-) (I'll add it here later). One area that wasn't discussed was the role of the editor. With so much referencing of Carver, I'd hoped to maybe raise the contentious issue of Gordon Lish's role in paring back Carver's original drafts. But time was limited and I didn't make the cut.

Enright mentioned some significant influences on her as a younger writer, citing Alice Munro in particular as well as a seventies anthology of experimental work, "The Naked I", which brought subjective narrative to the fore. She also spoke of those many, many stories still to be told from the point of view of women, particulary Irish women. A curious moment occured when a female audience member asked both writers for their thoughts on the differences in the short stories of male and female writers. Wolff demurred to Enright, as she had lead the timbre of the discussion in this direction, but the Booker winner was somewhat gobsmacked and flustered by the question. Strangely unsure, I thought, considering how much of her writing drags a raggedy fingernail along the frayed seams of gender politics. For his part, Wolff suggested that there seemed to be more violence in men's writing. To his chagrin, he's had it pointed out that the mortality rate of dogs in his stories is quite high.

Finally, appropriately enough, an anecdote that Wolff shared with us;

The discussion came round to those questions which writers face at events like this, one in particular being "When did you realise you wanted to be a writer?" Where many writers might refer to vague, intuitive urges, Wolff remembered an exact moment from his schooldays, when he would often write exercises on behalf of his classmates (for reward, no doubt). On one such occasion, the recipient of said 'hokey homework' told him 'you know you're good at this.... you should be a writer'. This specific incident planted the idea. On subsequent occasions, having entirely lost contact with this guy, he would refer to the incident in public readings and offer his thanks to the individual. At one such event, a lady stayed behind, quietly made her way over to him and explained that she was the individual's daughter. She explained how her father, like Wolff, had served in Vietnam. Unlike Wolff, however, he returned a scarred and deeply troubled man who moved his family to remotest Alaska, where he sought a precise kind of solitude. If any other settler moved to within four miles of their home, he would up stakes and move even further into the wilderness. Eventually (of course) his wife had had more than enough privation, took the kids and left him to it! Recounting all this to Wolff, the daughter finished with the meek observation, "I guess somebody must've told him he should be a hermit."

Knowing the young Wolff's propensity for 'creative truth', I'd be inclined to take this with a pinch of salt - but a fitting yarn nonetheless, from a master storyteller on a wonderfully interesting and entertaining night.

Blogspotting!

A quick runaround some of my current online haunts reveals:

A NICE OVERVIEW OF CÚIRT on Nuala Ní Chonchúir's blog.

A RUNDOWN OF THE WINNERS of the Hennessy New Irish Writing Awards ( including links to shortlisted work) over on the Emerging Writer blog.

A NICE MIX OF POETRY AND PHOTOGRAPHY on Mark Granier's Lightbox blog.

Patrick Chapman's fourth poetry collection A SHOPPING MALL ON MARS is out now!

UK poet Matt Merritt blogging about his new collection TROY TOWN.

All well worth a gander!

Poetry Now - The Strong Award





The Rupert and Eithne Strong Award is presented annually to recognise first collections published in Irish or English by Irish presses or poets. The presentation, and accompanying reading by shortlisted poets, has become a fixture of the Poetry Now festival and provides a valuable opportunity for emerging poets to give voice to their work in a supportive and knowledgable environment. Many speak of the affirmation this offers along with the opportunity to reach a new audience, as well as mingle with audience, peers and influences during the festival itself. Nerves were undoubtedly fluttering backstage as this year’s judge Louis de Paor took to the stage to begin proceedings.


As one of Ireland’s leading Irish language poets and Director of Irish Studies at NUI Galway, it was little surprise that de Paor announced himself ‘dismayed’ at the fact that only one Irish language collection featured on this year’s list. Another concern was the rigour, or lack thereof, of editorial input by the publishers of this year’s crop of emerging writers – whether referring to the quality and choice of content or the fundamentals of proofing wasn’t made clear. His final concern was with the nature of poetry predominently featured, with a perceived emphasis on the shorter, mostly lyric form to the exclusion of other approaches, including that type of poem which ‘brings you for a walk in the woods’ before revealing its intent. It was refreshing to hear constructive criticism where one might have expected platitudes. Then it was time for the first reader.


Nell Regan’s collection ‘Preparing for Spring’ has previously been shortlisted for the Patrick Kavanagh and Glen Dimplex New Writing awards. Her work has been praised for its precision, sophistication and tact. On the basis of this reading, that praise seems at least partially correct, with a definite sense of precision and craft on display. However, treatment of certain subjects, such as the Blaschkas (a family of skilled zoological glass model makers) and the muslim call to prayer, seemed a little lacking in that other area of tact. The subjects at times felt observed, rather than identified with – that old colonial sense of the exotic ‘other’ shadowing proceedings just a little. Work with its basis in personal history, seemed more considered. No doubt the obligation of reading first, in this context, was testing and it is possible that nerves played a part in leaving me a little cold on some of the poems. However, there’s no doubting the skill of construction in these pieces and I’m sure to warm to her work on further reading.


Next up was Nuala Ní Chonchúir, reading from ‘Tattoo ; Tatú’, her bilingual collection from the same publisher (Arlen House) as Regan. Here too was craft and precision aplenty - but this work, I felt, was backed up with a deeper investigation of self, with the investment of that self in the crevices of skillfully constructed poems. This poet has been praised as having a ‘Chekhovian eye for detail’ by Cathal Ó Searcaigh - an assessment I’d be inclined to agree with (even if the source has been dogged by controversy of late). Stand-out works for me were ‘Our Lady of Dublin’, a somewhat gothic rumination, with nice prior context given for its striking line ‘even this crown is not my own,’ as well as the title poem, with its imaging of the body as a palimpsest of prior lovers. So far, so graceful.


Our next poet’s collection won the Patrick Kavanagh Award 2005 in manuscript. Reading from ‘The Boy in the Ring’, (Salmon Poetry) Dave Lordan displayed feisty, vernacular language and gave it socks, wellys and Doc Martins in his delivery. Lordan’s obviously no shrinking violet. Small town tales were vented with foam, fleck and fecklessness by “fuckin’ fearless” protagonists. Yet again there was doubt on my part in the rendering down of those mucksmeared characterizations of life in small rural towns to something approaching caricature. Invoking staples of rebellious adolescence - haircuts, hash and happy hooliganism - combined to deliver… nothing really startling, actually. The subjects of his poems are chewed out with a vigour which sometimes felt a bit like barrelfish-shooting to me – e.g. the pillorying of the flatbed concelebrants of "Entente Florale" – perhaps at the expense of the poems’ own insights?


Next, Billy Ramsell gave a reading which exhibited certain of the same characteristics as Lordan’s despite very different voicing and the fact that here, much work seemed recited from memory. Presenting work from ‘Complicated Pleasures’, (Dedalus) Ramsell too seemed in danger of subverting the impact of his texts with a performance style which drew freely on audience interaction, asides, anecdotes and the like, going somewhat beyond the usual realm of establishing intimacy, calming nerves and setting contexts. (I’d estimate the ratio of poet to raconteur in the region of 1:2?). Indeed he revealed that, when faced with a microphone, his first tendency is to sing – at one point proposing a rendition of The Lakes of Pontchartrain! (…which clearly would have been well received by the Festival Curator, who proclaimed it her favourite song in wrapping up this event). Perhaps thats no bad thing in itself – we’ve all been at those readings of slumber-inducing, buttock-numbing monotonal bardery. But, while fresh voices need fresh approaches, I can’t help but feel there’s sometimes a cost to the work.

So then, on to the denouement. Reiterating his earlier comments about the high calibre of these four collections, de Paor announced, with the minimum of fuss, that this year’s winner of the Strong Award was the collection which had ‘made me me forget I was reading a book of poetry.’ Dave Lordan returned to stage to accept his award. Rightly pleased, he proceeded to invoke the I Ching, allowing the audience to choose the page number for a final poem. ‘64’ it was - then off to the wings (of glory) for him and the chill streets of Dun Laoghaire for the rest of us.


A final tangent - from which I can draw no specific conclusion - relates to poetry and publishing undergoing dramatic (!) transformations in this era of rapidly changing information technology. Of the collections featured in this year’s Strong Reading, the one I will soon buy (my festival book budget was blown on US poets) is, coincidentally, the title from the poet who maintains the most comprehensive online presence - Nuala Ní Chonchúir. ‘Tatoo : Tatú’ is my own Strong choice this year - purely my personal taste, of course, but with the added incentive of finally daring to consider the possibility of writing in my native tongue. After all, if I can coach Henri Cole in the pronunciation of ‘a dhaoine uisle’, perhaps there’s still hope for my inner gaeiligóir. Slán!

Enright on the night!















Back to the Pavilion Theatre again earlier this week for a reading by our local Booker winner Anne Enright. (After this no posts about either Enright OR the Pavilion for a while - promise!) The event was held as a fundraiser for the ‘Out-Back’ project run by the Pavilion, where Enright’s husband Martin Murphy is Artistic Director, and it proved to be a very interesting and enjoyable evening, with Enright’s good friend Gerry Stembridge doing the introduction and interview duties.

If you're not Irish (and of a certain age) Stembridge may not be the most familiar name – but round these parts, he's probably most well known for his role in writing the infamous radio programme Scrap Saturday, which ruthlessly pilloried the most heinous and ridiculous excesses of the regime of a certain Charles J Haughey, formerly of these parishes. The show was notable for skillfully skewering topical political idiocy, and featured prominently the wit and mimicry of the late Dermot Morgan (sadly gone from this world almost 10 years now!) and the not-in-the-least-late Pauline McGlynn, both of whom went on to great things on Craggy Island. (While I think of it, Father Ted co-creator Graham Linehan has an excellent new blog over here - well worth a visit for choice fillets of the festering corpulence that is internet video - check it!)

But I digress; Stembridge began the evening with a few vignettes and memories of his friendship with Enright down the years. He recalled, on Booker night itself, emerging from the shower in the mens locker room of his local gym and being confronted by a grandee in a tux mouthing the result on a silent TV as Enright was announced winner of the prize. As he put it, a one-off life experience, i.e. hearing your friend has won the booker while standing naked, dripping wet. Another memory recalled the time he saw a spotlit Enright, performing onstage in Dublin's Players Theatre several decades past, then rushing to Burgh Quay to submit his meagrely-paid review of the production to a certain desk editor by the name of Banville. Caught between booker-ends, as it were. He also spoke warmly of Enright’s generous and spontaneous support at a difficult period in his life – painting a picture of a warm, caring individual whose friendship was obviously highly treasured.

After these mellifluous introductions, The Author Herself took to the stage, receiving a prolonged and hearty welcome. Perhaps a little nervous initially, she soon settled into reading the opening chapter of The Gathering in fine style, followed by an even more compelling reading of her short story 'The Girl Died' from her forthcoming collection (available in March). It was immediately apparent how important the concept of ‘voice’ is to the success of Enright’s work. In this context, Enright’s own voice walks her characters right into the theatre and straight up to centre stage. I look forward to the new collection – it should be a treat!

Following another warm reception for her readings, Enright settled into her seat for some insightful quizzing by an obviously enthusiastic Stembridge. Both writers seemed to relish the occasion and the opportunity it presented. It could be that Enright was glad of a chance to address some of the misconceptions written about her in various wayward articles since her Booker win.

Much of the questioning centred on structural aspects of The Gathering itself, the Booker Prize awards night (apparently she didn’t bet on herself!) and more generally, Enright's working methodologies. Responding to a question about the size of the family in The Gathering, she recalled a comment of another friend, journalist Ann-Marie Hourihane, likening aspects of 1980s Ireland to an orphanage – where many siblings from these large families were left somewhat bereft, following the death of parents whose harried life’s work could, by material necessity, verge on emotional absence from their (too?) many offspring.

Interesting to hear too, how visual artists were to the fore as inspirations in the absence of a canon of pre-eminent women writers in the Irish literary tradition as her own writing developed. Artists such as Dorothy Cross, Alice Maher and Kathy Prendergast were mentioned as influences and it seems apt that such interrogative artists should be referenced by a writer whose own acts of creation are equally charged with robust questioning of their environs by her characters.

Finally, still another Banville-related comment which sticks in the memory is how, on meeting that writer following his own Booker win with The Sea, he told Enright how he originally didn’t believe that book was any good – not just to win awards, but that he was convinced his publishers would reject it for publication! Perhaps it was just that most Irish trait of false modesty, but I really can’t see Banville being self-deprecating purely for the sake of it. That meeting, of one past winner and one who would, took place aptly enough in an airport. Banville commented to Enright that post-Booker, life was lived in airports. It is to Enright’s credit, and the enjoyment of the Pavilion audience, that she spent last Tuesday in closer proximity to the ferry terminus in Dun Laoghaire – with presumably only a short trip back home to Bray!

Man Booker Woman!



Well now, there's a turn-up for the Booker! Congratulations to Anne Enright on her well-deserved win. Genuine surprise and joy is infectious and there's definitely a spring in the step round here this bright, clear autumn day.

You can view Enright's post-awards BBC interview here.

Much discussion, online and elsewhere, about the perceived merits or otherwise of the judges' decision. Quite a few fans of Nicola Barker's Darkmans seem particularly disappointed. However, I guess that's the nature of these competitions.

There's a somewhat churlish article over on the Guardian Arts blog, whose writer isn't a fan of the winner. And much of the criticism seems to be aimed at the 'familiar' nature of the subject matter. My own take is that it can be seen as all the braver to head back upstream into familiar territory (well-travelled for good reason) in order to attempt to prise core truths from abeyant material by.....wait for it....the writing?

You might also enjoy a short interview from before the announcement by Sinead Gleeson with Enright over on her Sigla blog.

I'm delighted by the judges' choice. I hope many, many more people read The Gathering as a result and increase their enjoyment of, and appetite for, fine writing.

Anyways, Well done Anne.

In the words of the poet "G'wan ye good thing!".

Fortright Enright on View

Booker nominee Anne Enright featured in a pre-awards television special on last night's RTE Arts programme The View.

Presenter John Kelly spoke to the writer for about 25 minutes, covering topics such as her early life, time spent as a writer/producer in RTE and the difficulties of maintaining a writing life while a parent of young children. A revealing and intimate portrait emerged, albeit with a certain amount of professional discretion.

Some interesting topics included her perceived 'masculine style'. Enright spoke about how punditry can be a necessity for a working writer, in order to keep body and soul together (the downside being a requirement for female writers to slot into certain expectations). Also interesting were her comments relating to the publishing stature and perceptions of 'women writers' in an Irish context and how that differs from roles in the UK and US literary marketplaces.

You can watch the interview online here. The winner will be announced tonight, Tuesday 16th October at an awards ceremony at Guildhall, London. Good Luck, Anne!

Barry wins Rooney!

Further good news from The Stinging Fly Press with the announcement that Kevin Barry was named last night as the recipient of the 2007 Rooney Prize for Irish Literature.

The Rooney Prize, established in 1976, is awarded annually to a writer under the age of forty who has produced a significant body of work. Previous winners include Anne Enright, Colum McCann, Claire Keegan, Claire Kilroy, Nick Laird and Philip O Ceallaigh. Good company, Kevin!

The writer was presented with the 10,000 euro prize last night at a special reception in the Provost's house at Trinity College.

Acording to Declan Meade, Stinging Fly editor, the new paperback edition of There Are Little Kingdoms has been sent to the printers and will be in shops by the end of October.

In the meantime, there are still copies of the previous paperback edition to be found, both in shops and, I believe, from the Stinging Fly website. Also a small number of the limited casebound edition left (from the original 100 signed and numbered copies). Christmas is coming, folks - could be a nice pressie for somebody?

As per my earlier post, you can read a new story from Kevin in the current issue of West47.

Well done that man!

Miss July gets Frank

Congrats too to Miranda July on winning this years Frank O'Connor Short Story Competition (including a cool 35k!) with her collection, entitled No One Belongs Here More Than You. Check out the quirk factor of her promo website for the book here. This is one kerfunky lady who's making a pretty good job of whatever creative endeavour she turns her hand to, be it movies, visual art, music, writing or (to quote my inner teen) 'whatever'. Very much the "Renaissance Wan" of the mo, then. Spotted recently at the Electric Picnic, nice to know she's still willing to get down with the (slightly aging) kids too!

So, yet another book spliced on to my 'to read' list. Much debate this year about the shortlisted authors for this prize. Eileen Battersby in the Irish Times was less than flattering and perhaps she has a point. However, awards of this nature elicit much debate and that, I guess, is the real pay-off for readers?