In Tom Russell's song about Lightnin' Hopkins, 'Scars on His Ankles,” he writes of Lightnin's scars on his ankles where the chain from the chain gang cut his skin. In Colin O'Sullivan's jewel of a first novel, Killarney Blues, winner of the “Prix Mystere de la critique,” in France, the main characters also have scars, … Continue reading “Colin O’Sullivan writes gloriously”
"Carried by a genuine writing talent, Killarney Blues is a Noir novel full of melancholy and unfulfilled dreams with a surprising glimmer of hope at the end. Without the slightest naivety. A revelation." —Le Soir “A cathartic novel that ultimately creates positive emotions, like the blues can do. Poignant.” —booknode.com “A luminous novel that … Continue reading The Success of the French Edition of “Killarney Blues”
Voilà à quoi ressemble Killarney à l’aube de ce siècle nouveau. Il y a des bagels. Et c’est le genre d’endroit dans lequel elles viennent prendre un café : un bistrot élégant, bien éclairé, minimaliste, avec des tableaux de bon goût sur les murs, des décorations végétales spectrales en forme de bâtons sur les tables et … Continue reading Review of “Killarney Blues” in Le Soir
We are happy to announce the first (of many, no doubt!) translation rights sale for Colin O'Sullivan's novel KILLARNEY BLUES. French translation rights have been acquired by the legendary publisher of Rivages François Guérif. The novel will be translated by Jean-Paul Gratias, the no-less-legendary translator of James Ellroy and William Kotzwinkle, among others. "Marvellous novel, endearing, … Continue reading KILLARNEY BLUES to be published in France
David Hogan: You're in the long tradition of writers leaving Ireland in order to write about it. Is there something unique about the country that pushes you away while at the same time drawing you back? Colin O’Sullivan: The Irish have always been a migrant race as you know, for many reasons too long to … Continue reading Writing, reading, music, and “far-awayness”. David Hogan interviews Colin O’Sullivan
"When something of literary merit affects you, then a sliver is naturally going to rub off on your prose." Read the full text here: Reading when I write?
Why I Write By Colin O'Sullivan I write because I have to. No message, no voice. I write for it demands me. Because I have no choice. I wake and think of writing, I go to bed the same. All day I think of writing, My antidote, my pain. Nothing matters but the … Continue reading “There’s only that unbidden quest to make a sentence sing…”
St. Patrick's Day Greetings.
"She takes out the tape from its box and inserts it into the stereo. Then she removes her flimsy dressing gown and crawls back into bed. Her legs feel heavy. She doesn’t know if she’s coming down with something or whether it’s the after-effects of last night’s dancing. She’s not as young as she’d like … Continue reading Hey, hey babe I’ve got blood in my eyes for you
Like the character of Bernard in my debut novel, Killarney Blues, many of my friends are music obsessives, the kind of people who wouldn’t be out of place in Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity.
These cardigan-wearers (to which I am a fully fledged and flouting member) often fire out pointless emails asking all kinds of random music questions. These have been happening for years, and the sad fact is that I have begun to cherish the arrival of these useless inquisitions.
Below are an example of some of the kinds of questions my muso buddies like to ask, and my deeply considered answers (we’re talking hours people, days). Please note also that these answers are liable to change. For example, when recently asked about my favourite Bowie album I instinctively answered Low, but on the following day could just have easily said Station to Station or Hunky Dory. Such is the kind…
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“I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound or stab us. If the book we’re reading doesn’t wake us up with a blow to the head, what are we reading for?” Franz Kafka In an alternative translation of the above Kafka quote, “wound” and “stab” are written as “bite” and … Continue reading Today: Colin O’Sullivan’s choice
Christmas is not always magic but good books always are. Whether you love or hate Christmas, you might enjoy a good story. Our collection GIFTS: NINE BITTERSWEET CHRISTMAS STORIES is free on Amazon this week: getBook.at/FREE_GIFTS
Congratulations to Colin O'Sullivan whose novel KILLARNEY BLUES is performing extremely well on Amazon Australia: Amazon Bestsellers Rank: #2 Paid in Kindle Store (See Top 100 Paid in Kindle Store) #1 in Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Literary Fiction #1 in Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Contemporary … Continue reading KILLARNEY BLUES #1 in Australia
Excerpt from KILLARNEY BLUES by Colin O'Sullivan "Cathy is ignoring Janet’s requests to open the door. She stays in the same position. On the floor. On that nice soft carpet. Her legs are stretched out in front of her. Her head hangs low. She is a collapsed marionette. But who will pick up the strings … Continue reading Promotion in Australia on Dec. 15: KILLARNEY BLUES (read excerpt)
From “Be Good for Goodness Sake” by Colin O’Sullivan: “It is Christmas Day and they are having Christmas dinner, and Anita is trying her best to enjoy herself, trying to acclimatise. But the dreams keep coming back to her, the nightmares, the flashbacks, she doesn’t even have to be asleep, all she needs to do … Continue reading Excerpt from Gifts: Bittersweet Christmas Stories by Colin O’Sullivan
I wrote two poems about budgies yesterday but somehow managed to accidentally delete them both. The poems were about how I’m not, repeat not, having a nervous breakdown. Although after losing both files I may rethink the whole not having a nervous breakdown thing…
There was a time when I wrote happy romantic little ditties. Like the one below, called From a Bunch.
In the meantime I’ll try and retrieve the poems (about the angry and obsessed budgies) from the bowels of the computer (both birds were called Franz) and also locate a poem I wrote on a napkin last week called Dead Flies. Psychiatrist’s couch here I come!
(Too much time listening to Swans, methinks)
Every little flower
and every myth
soon I will
tread among the weeds
and pick someone like you.
For a riveting novel about music and people’s secrets and relationships and drama…
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Thoughtful and beautiful review of KILLARNEY BLUES
The sun on the lake sparkles. Only a laden, dark cloud in the distance has the audacity to ruin the perfect picture. Bernard has one eye on it, knows how things loom, how those clouds can hover, then open and pour, drench, saturate. But not yet. There’s a few more hours of this brightness, and he’s intent on enjoying it.
He’s very happy to be sitting out in it with this pretty American by his side: Laura. Laura from Texas. Blue-eyed. Bouncy. Beautiful. They both sit on the edge of the main pier and stare out at the lake, the sound of gentle lapping under their feet. It’s almost idyllic. So many scenes like this can be found in spots all over Killarney. Some famous, well-trodden places. Some hidden treasures that await discovery.
This is just one of the frequented runs, but yes, it is, for the most part, an…
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