Another Day in Renting Paradise- A to Z Challenge

This is my first post on the A to Z Challenge.  I hope you will bare with me on this challenge as I'm a novice at writing and Blogging. Please see
amloki.blogspot.ie

Diane and Teresa sat on the second-hand sofa together, watching a soap on the battered T.V. The third member of the group of girls that were renting, Sorcha, had gone upstairs with her boyfriend.  Diane and Sorcha had had dinner together before Teresa came home late and sodden from her job.

Sorcha was in love and this made the girls very happy.  The three girls had met through an ad in the local paper but they had hit it off immediately.  Partying and chatting together, almost like sisters.  When Sorcha met David it had unbalanced the group but he quickly became a part of the gang.

Diane noticed the noise first.  From upstairs.  She laughed to herself and turned the volume up on the T.V.  Concentrating on the storyline of the soap.  Unfortunately the bedroom was above the sitting room and the walls were not thin.

Finally, Teresa, sat bolt upright.  Looked in terror at Diane and said,

"Crap, do you hear that squeaking?  I think we've got............mice!"

The one that got away

She looked for £5,000 cash.  And she never took her sunglasses off.

I had only begun working as a cashier in Dundalk branch that morning.  I needed to appear efficient.  This had not been helped by my wearing one dark navy and one black shoe to work that morning, after getting dressed hurriedly in the dark.  Nobody noticed my error in the hectic bank.

The woman came up to my counter early that day.  She wore a headscarf and sunglasses.  It wasn't sunny out but they made her look glamorous, even if she was middle-aged.  Then she asked for the cash.  I was worried about handing over that amount even though there was plenty of money in the account.  The staff of the branch knew her and told me to give it to her.

Then I looked closely at her.  Her sunglasses covered two puffy eyes.  Make-up covered the bruises.  Once I noticed it, I couldn't take my eyes off her.  She shifted uncomfortably.  I asked her to fill in the form.  Then I saw her fingers.  The tops of all her fingers had been damaged.  They were old injuries.  The skin had regrown but the fingers looks mutilated.  Two of her finger nails were missing altogether.  Again, it was an old injury.  

Shaking, I gave her the money and she left, saying very little.  I was busy all day but I could not forget her.  

At three o'clock a man appeared at the counter.  He was friendly and very chatty.  He told me that he had to go to Cork and needed a couple of thousand from his account.  I immediately realised it was the same joint account that the lady had withdrawn money from.  Once I verified his identity I got the money ready.  He rambled, unnecessarily, as I counted it out.  "My wife decided to go to Cork on the spur of the moment.  I don't know why she does things like that.  You know women, impulsive."

I handed him the money without a word.  I hope she got away.

The Next Big Thing

The Next Big Thing

Last week I was asked by Trish Nugent, the eminent writer and part-time actress, to join an on-line blogging chain-''The Next Big Thing.

We met at Christmas Twitter Single last year and at the launch of Louise Phillips book 'Red Ribbons.'  Every occasion was illuminating, enlightening and.....great craic.  I also met Jillian Godsil, Susan Condon, Deirdre Tracey and Annemarie Miles and, naturally, the creator of TXS, Brenda Drumm.  These women are all wonderful reasons for being on Twitter.  

Trish Nugent can be found at trishnugentwriter.wordpress.com and on twitter @Trish_Nugent.   Looking forward to her book of poetry, due soon 'The Bisto Tin.'

My Next Big Thing

I'm writing a young adult book about life on Tara around 200A.D.  The story centres around a young woman who has been kidnapped from her home in Wales and is taken to marry the Chieftain of Tara.  She meets people who do not want her to be a part of the royal family. However she slowly assimilates into their lifestyle.  She has a family but not without heartache.  Her first born is healthy, her second doesn't survive and her final son has a disability.  She will also have to deal with the Celtic tradition of fostering boys between families at the age of seven.  

What is the working title for your book?

Yseult (pronounced ee-salt) 

Where did the idea come from for the book?

I moved near Tara 20 years ago.  At first I couldn't see what the hype was about.  Then I started walking around the hill on a regular basis.  Little by little, I fell in love with it: The Mound of Hostages, Grainne's Rath, the Sloping Trenches and the little Fairy Tree with artefacts and messages of hope stuck to the branches.  I wondered about Tara during it's glory days, after all, 143 Kings were crowned at the Lia Fail.

What genre does your book fall under?

It's young adult fiction with historical background.

Which actors would you choose in a movie rendition of your book?

I'd choose Gemma Arterton as my leading lady.  She has the right mixture between looking aloof and snapping into action when needed.  For the leading man I'd choose Eric Bana because he's very, ahem, er, talented.  

What is the one sentence synopsis for your book?

Kidnapped, Yseult knows she has to adapt or die with her captors.  

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your novel?

It has taken me a year so far.  The story is a labour of love and all I wish is that my son may read it in years to come.  I want it to be as historically accurate as possible which is slowing the process down.

What other books would you compare yours to within your genre?

I don't know as I've avoided any books that may be similar for the moment.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

I've always loved books with historical backgrounds.  I recently finished reading 'Suite Francaise.'  It brings a very important part of our history to life. 

Also Tara Hill itself inspires me.  Kevin's Sacred Well is a special place of peacefulness for me.

What else about your book might pique your readers interest?

At the end of the book, Yseult will have to go to a completely different civilisation to save her family.....

When and how will it be published?

It should be published around the time I win the lotto and loose four stone.  But, joking aside, I will post the final draft to several publishers and if someone is interested, all the better.  If not, at least I've gotten the story out of my head. 

Thanks for reading so far...

And NOW *drumroll* I introduce you to my next three people in the blogging chain.  Two men who are new to blogging and a published author.

Adrian Mc Kenna

Adrian (@Ado_mack on twitter) had a career in hairdressing for 21 years.  He returned to education in 1999 having never completed his leaving cert.  In the ensuing years he studied, counselling, psychology, disability studies and is just finishing a BA in Applied Social Studies.  

Ado has been writing since he became a father 28 years ago, but only started blogging in late 2012.  His blog came to the attention of the Campaign for Children and he was asked to write for their website, on foot of this he was asked to sit on the national committee for the YES Campaign for Children working on the Children's referendum. 

His blog, (www.adomackno1965.wordpress.com) is a mixture of serious pieces on child welfare and personal anecdotes, balanced with poetry for Children and Adults.  

His Next Big Thing will be writing for the Irish Association of Social Care Managers website.  He continues to present honest views on working in the crisis care sector in Ireland.  

Ado maintains a very visible presence on social media and can be found on Facebook, LinkedIn,  Yahoo, Twitter, Instagram and Aboutme.

He is married to Nuala for 27 years and has one son Dave who is 28 and is Trainee Officer in the Navy.

John Hassett

John Hassett is a 42 year old who has totally changed his life.  He spent 14 years in active addiction.  He nearly lost his life on several occasions.  He decided to get sober and clean and has watched his new life unfold since.  He is a French polisher by trade but was unable to continue due to a severe neck injury and surgery.

John's ambition at present is to use his years of both addiction and recovery to help teens.  He is hoping to tell his story in schools to teenagers.  A very good friend encouraged John to join social media.  He started his blog (www.johnhassettjh.wordpress.com ) which is a look at addiction and recovery and will be a take on this rather strange world.  His Next Big Thing is to write a book about his experiences, hopefully to help young people and make them aware of the dangers of addiction.  He can also be found on twitter @TattooedJH. 

John is an avid runner, loves motorbikes and ... tattoos.

Caroline Finnerty

Caroline Finnerty is the author of 'In a Moment' published by Poolbeg Press.  She was also a contributor to the charity anthology 'All I Want for Christmas' in aid of Barnardos.  Previously she was short-listed for the RTE Guide/Penguin Ireland short story competition. She lives in Co. Kildare with her husband, three year-old daughter,one year old boy/girl twins and their dog.  (Where does she get the energy?)  

She is currently editing her second novel 'A Small Hand in Mine' which will be released in Summer 2013.  Caroline has also had articles published in the Daily Mail, Woman's Way Magazine and in various parenting magazines.  

You can find her on www.carolinefinnerty.ie or on twitter @cfinnertywriter.  

<I should point out that Caroline was asked to take part in this blogging chain before by Shirley Benton.  Proving the popularity of this idea and I thank her and Adrian and John for allowing me to tag them.> 

Ventry days

A herd of children running around sand dunes and a beach. Teenagers sitting together trying to look disinterested. Parents cooking food on a barbecue on the sand, which is still warm from the beautiful day.

It gets dark. More teenagers congregate. Parents open the wine and a guitar is produced. Everyone gathers around the fire on the beach, blankets on their knees. People take turns singing songs and everyone joins in the chorus. The younger children are getting tired and cuddle into their parents. The teenagers look tentatively at their heart's desire across the fire.

There are a few nationalities there. Two Liverpudlians who can sing any Beatles song. French students. Dubs.... Finally the children are put to bed in the mobile homes on the other side of the sand dunes. The teenagers are on babysitting duty. Parents continue to sing into the night.

Many years have passed. Five couples, families and their children, now with grandchildren. We all gather in Ventry every year....still. The parents are now lovingly called 'The Wrinklies.' Followed by another group called 'The Wobblies.' Friendships have endured decades.

Children still play freely and happily on the beach. One of the group was taken from us very suddenly this Summer. Ventry will not the same. But the memories are wonderful.. Thank you.... Ray and Maire.

P.S. I'm glad you didn't get to go windsurfing, in the pitch dark, with a torch taped to the front of your board Dad. Sorry for telling on you to Mum. xx

R.I.P. Valerie xxx

A kind word

Grabbing my son into the car I raced into town to make a dentist appointment. I had to stop and get diesel. Rushing into the garage I handed over my Ulster Bank card.

It was June 15th and it was declined even though I'd been paid that day. I now know that it was the start of the Ulster Bank debacle but at the time I had the manager of the garage glaring at me over the counter as I rang the bank. I stood in the corner of the shop and, with mounting frustration, I explained that the diesel was already in my car and I didn't even have the money to buy more phone credit to continue the conversation.

A women sidled over to me and whispered into my ear. "I can drive you into town if you're stuck." I was too embarrassed to look at her but thanked her and assured her I would manage. She then offered, very quietly, to buy me phone credit. I had never met her before and didn't even look her in the face but later that night her incredible kindness struck me. Even though I didn't take her up on her offer, I knew she was genuine.

The Ulster Bank 'technical glitch' wasn't important any more but the random act of kindness made my week.

Dead eyes in Houla

Early on Sunday morning I came across a picture from the scenes of the massacre at Houla in Syria.  It was of two boys, aged between eight and ten.  They were lying on a mat together, heads pointing in opposite directions.  Their t-shirts were blood-stained.  They were long, tanned and skinny young kids who would have been full of life only 24 hours earlier.  However their eyes had no light in them.  They stared blankly into space.  It was a scene that shook me to the core.


You see I have a young son.  He jumps, bounces, and skips around.  He laughs and even when he is asleep his eyes are peaceful and content.



I do not have a copy of the picture of the boys from Houla.  I'm not going to search for it.  I don't need to.  It's etched into my memory.  I wonder what was the last thing the boys saw before they were murdered.  There are a lot of things wrong with this world that we have created. However the Universe is really out of kilter when we stand by and allow this to happen to innocent children.

A man of Importance

In 1992 and I was a 'yellow packer.' This was the phrase used to describe the new enployees of the bank who were recruited on a smaller wage and with no chance of promotion. The 'yellow packs' were the cheap home brand used by a well known supermarket. However in the early 1990's Ireland was coming out of a recession and jobs were scarce.

When I joined the bank the whole ethos was about Quality Service to customers. I was told if you treat a customer well, they will tell others about the company and word-of-mouth was the best way to build a solid customer base.

The first time I met the Important Banker I was picketing my Bank branch. Being only nineteen, I was terrified. How would I pay the rent? What would my parents think? When would the strike end? My Branch Manager was an extraordinarily kind man. When the news broke he came over to my desk and comforted me,as he saw my panic-striken face.

The locals were very supportive, bringing us soup and sandwiches and moral support. However after a couple of days the Important Banker came to visit us on the picket line. He was red-faced with indignation and asked us sharply: "What did we think we were doing? Did we expect this strike would achieve anything? How did we think it would affect our careers?" He then listed off names of people in branches surrounding us that had gone back to work, crossing the picket line. By the time he left us I was trembling.

After three weeks a deal was reached between the Union and the Bank. We went back to work but the ethos had changed. Our new contracts stipulated that we must reach targets selling certain types of accounts or policies. Trying to sell at the counter or cold-calling people was torture.

After a couple of years I applied for relief staff. This entailed being sent to various branches or departments and filling in when places were short staffed. I was happy as the proverbial pig and loved this work.

On one occasion I was sent to type in Head Office. The Important Banker had retired a couple of weeks beforehand. However I noticed that he appeared in the office most mornings of that week. All I could picture was his indignant, red face when I looked at him. He, of course, did not remember me.

The Retired Banker would sort through files or rearrange folders, mumbling to himself as he did so. Then on my final morning one of The Top Man in the Bank turned the corner and when he saw the Retired Banker, kneeling on the ground with a folder in his hands, he threw his eyes up to heaven and did a u-turn out of the room. He was no longer important.