Your latest novel, Penelope Unbound, imagines Nora Joyce unshackled from her feckless husband James. Tell us about it.
It’s a speculative historical novel that splits Joyce up from Nora and imagines an alternate life for her. And for him too, of course. In speculative fiction once you change one life, it has consequences.
You add an H to Nora’s name. Why?
She was christened Norah and spelt her name that way until she met Joyce.
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You responded to Joyce’s work before in your response to his short story, An Encounter, in Dubliners 100, edited by Thomas Morris. Tell us about that
Joyce’s story is about two boys mitching from school who meet a strange man who could be a paedophile. I updated the time to the 1970s and turned the protagonists into girls – the gender change gives the story a completely different dynamic, I think.
In a previous novel, The Rising of Bella Casey, you imagined the life of Sean O’Casey’s sister. What inspired it and do you see the two works as linked?
Something about the trajectory of Bella’s life – the bright promise of her beginning, the reduction of her end – seemed especially poignant. Both novels are biofictional, ie they imagine “other” lives for real people. However, with Bella Casey I only invented when there was no historical information available, whereas Penelope Unbound is speculative from the get-go. It’s all made up.
Is your predilection for fact-based novels (a kidnapping in Mother of Pearl; a woman claiming to be the Tsar’s daughter in The Pretender) and real-life characters inspired by your background as a journalist?
Maybe. What journalism taught me was to spot hidden stories.
How did you weather the 13-year gap between your third and fourth books?
I kept on writing. It was a publishing drought, rather than writer’s block.
You blog about another artist, Una Watters (1918-1965). What’s the fascination there and might you fictionalise her life?
My partner owned an Una Watters painting, Girl Going by Trinity in the Rain (now hanging in the National Gallery), and I got curious about the painter behind it and began to investigate. What I discovered was a treasure trove of paintings in a highly original modernist-inspired style by a painter who was virtually unknown in art historic circles. With the help of Una’s niece, I organised a retrospective of her work last year in Dublin. No plans for fiction on her but I am working on a catalogue of her work.
You teach creative writing and also offer a mentoring service. Is this just to pay the bills or are there other rewards?
I’ve never earned enough from writing so have always worked at other things – journalism and teaching. I think it’s a good thing for a writer to be out in the world and not to be always locked up in her own head. I loved the camaraderie of journalism and I enjoy the one-to-one relationship in mentoring.
Which projects are you working on?
I have finished a collection of short fiction with a pandemic theme, which is out on submission. During lockdown I wrote a domestic thriller that I’m determined to finish before year’s end. The holes in the plot are driving me mad.
Have you ever made a literary pilgrimage?
Often. To Flannery O’Connor’s homeplace in Milledgeville, Georgia, to Maeve Brennan’s last home in New York and to the Brontë parsonage in Haworth, among others.
What is the best writing advice you have heard?
From the Listowel writer Bryan MacMahon when I was a young writer: solvitur scribendo – it is solved by writing.
You are supreme ruler for a day. Which law do you pass or abolish?
I’d abolish the criminal oppression of women in Afghanistan and Iran.
Which current book, film and podcast would you recommend?
I’m reading My Fourth Time, We Drowned by Sally Hayden, about the international migrant crisis. A tough, humane piece of journalism. I really admired Cillian Murphy as Oppenheimer, which captured the torture of his moral dilemma. I’m a live radio person so not-up-to speed on the podcasting world.
Which public event affected you most?
The inauguration of Barack Obama. I was in Washington at the time and attended. It felt like a turning point.
The most remarkable place you have visited?
One of the things on my bucket list was to see the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua to view Giotto’s remarkable fresco cycle. After several thwarted attempts, I saw it last month. It was worth the wait.
Your most treasured possession?
A chain with an edelweiss medallion that my father, who died young, brought back from Austria when I was a small girl.
What is the most beautiful book that you own?
I’m savouring David Hockney’s Secret Knowledge, which has been in storage for several years. Hockney claims that mirrors and lenses were used by artists as early as the 15th century. The argument doesn’t move me one way or the other, but the reproductions, particularly the detailed close-ups of paintings in the book, are almost tactile and very sumptuous.
Which writers, living or dead, would you invite to your dream dinner party?
Since I’ve gone to their places – Flannery O’Connor, Charlotte Brontë and Maeve Brennan. Oh and Alice Munro.
Who is your favourite fictional character?
Jane Eyre.
A book to make me laugh?
Heartburn by Nora Ephron.
A book that might move me to tears?
I’d defy anyone not to weep over My Fourth Time We Drowned.
Penelope Unbound is published by Banshee Press
