![]() ![]() In his most famous story, “The Lady with the Dog”, we are given a detailed account of the nature, history and motivations of Gurov within the first page, but there is no feeling of stress or overload. In a short story, the sentences have to do so much! Some of Chekhov’s stories are less than three printed pages a few comprise a single brief paragraph. So I’ve put together some ideas with the help of some of my favourite writers on how best to go about finding that peace. I know that in this straitened, rule-bound, virus-ridden present, many people find themselves with that gnawing feeling, that urge to fashion from language a new reality, or to get the idea that’s been clamouring inside them out of their imagination and into the world. And the only way to get peace is to write it.” Mary Costello, author of The China Factory, one of the finest short story collections I’ve ever read, says: “Write only what’s essential, what must be written … an image or a story that keeps gnawing, that won’t leave you alone. Maybe it would have happened anyway, or maybe not, but I think the impulse would always have been present, the urge to put a grammar on the ideas in my head. So a forgotten short story, written somewhere in the fog of my early 20s, turned out to be the making of my writing career. I knew it wouldn’t last, and so I quickly wrote a handful of new stories, and the peace didn’t dissipate. I didn’t feel embarrassed, nor did I feel an urge to burn it. My wife suggested giving Johnsey new life, and I started a rewrite with him as the hero the story kept growing until I found myself with a draft of my first finished novel, The Thing About December. I’d forgotten about the story, and about one of its peripheral characters, a simple and pure-hearted man named Johnsey Cunliffe. It contained a ridiculous story about a young solicitor being corrupted by a gangster client. Shortly after I got married my mother-in-law happened upon a file on the hard drive of a PC I’d loaned her (there’s a great and terrifying writing prompt!). I strive for the feeling of rightness it gave me, that feeling of peace. I think of that story now every single time I sit down to write. I’d created a new reality for myself, and I was able to occupy it for a while, to feel a joy I’d created by moving a biro across paper. The world in that moment was restful and calm. I felt as I finished my story an intense relief. It went the distance but Barry won easily on points. ![]() I’d even given Barry some tips on countering Steve’s vicious hook. In my story I’d arranged the whole thing. My imagined fight was in Ireland, and I was ringside. Months passed and there was no talk of a rematch, so I wrote a story about it. He’d just lost his world featherweight title to the American Steve Cruz under the hellish Nevada sun and the only thing that could mend my broken heart was a restoration of my hero’s belt. The first story I wrote outside of school was about Irish boxer Barry McGuigan. ![]()
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