I Wish MacGowan Hadn’t Written That Song

Excerpt – “When I reach the Old Bridge I stop halfway over, lean on the stone wall and listen to the Slaney bursting through the arches underneath. I wonder if there’s anything like this in New York, somewhere you can stand and close your eyes and listen and imagine you’re out the country. And I’ve been wondering about things like this for a while now. Like, will I be able to go fishing in the Hudson? Will I manage the driving on the far side of the road? Do they have snooker halls? Where would I get a hurl mended? Will I get the hurl through customs even? And what if I can’t hack the job, or if the bossman is a terror? What do I do then? Who can I go to over there?”

Published in Irish Independent’s New Irish Writing on March 26th, 2011, edited by Ciaran Carty, and was shortlisted for the 2011 Hennessy First Fiction Award (Judges: Deirdre Purcell, Giles Foden).

Also will appear in Issue 27 of Natural Bridge (US) in Spring 2012, and out of almost 500 submissions will be one of Natural Bridge‘s nominations to the Pushcart Prize: Best Writing Published in Literary Journals 2012.

 

Wobble

Excerpt – “WE’RE UNDER THE bridge, drinking the last of the cans, when Connors says, “So, will we rob Doyler’s bike then?” Reilly bites. “Sure . . sure, what diya want his bike for anyway?””

Flash story published in the Irish Times on March 16th, 2012. Read here.

 

Alzheimer’s

Extract – “He puts the truck in gear, eases off, gradually moving to the center of the road, a container full of toilet roll bound for Tralee weighing them down. From time to time he glances over, and apart from the money he can’t imagine how a man his age would interest a girl like her, but it doesn’t bother him now as much as it used to. She was twenty-one last January, has bobbed, black hair, wild looking eyes, and today she’s wearing brown leather boots zipped up to the knee, a tight blue jeans tucked into them. First she takes off her leather jacket and leaves it on the bunk-bed behind, then she pulls a mirror from the bag, touches up her lipstick and perfume, and from the first time he picked her up she’s gone through this routine, and he’s heard that she does this for the other drivers too.”

Prize-winning runner-up (final 8 from over 450 entries) for the 2011 William Trevor/Elizabeth Bowen International Short Story Prize (Judges: Vincent McDonnell, John MacKenna).

Published in The Stinging Fly Issue 21 Vol. 2/Spring 2012.

 

What’s Eating Him?

Extract – “He stood down off his stool, but was no taller for it, if anything he’d lost a couple of inches. He rooted in his pockets and threw some dollars on the counter, saying, You’re not from around, you don’t know anyone here. Then he took a deep breath and winced like he had heartburn or something, and said again, She’s not for the likes of you. If I were you, I’d go.”

Prize-winning runner-up (final 20 from 2093 entries) for the Bristol Short Story Prize (Judges: Bertel Martin, Joe Berger, Maia Bristol, Helen Hart, Tania Hershman).

Published in 2011 in the Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology Volume 4 (UK).

 

Crosses

Extract – “When Kehoe, the landlord, comes looking for payment he drags in clay from his fields, all over the kitchen floor, and if I did that Ma would go apeshit but she says nothing to him and makes me sweep it up. He’s a tall, lean man with dangly arms and hands twice as big as mine. Black dirt is chiseled in around his fingernails, even at mass on Sundays. It’s said he never takes a bath or drinks or smokes, lives on cans of dog food and stale bread the baker in town gives out for half-nothing. And I’m inclined to believe it for when he comes around he eats enough for two men.”

Published in 2011 online at Necessary Fiction (US) (Editor: Steve Himmer, Emerson College, Boston, MA). Read here.

 

Discovering Jack

Extract – “In our kitchen I loaded the stove with wood, it had not been seen to since morning, and as I waited for it to take I cut the beef in two. Once the stove was hot I placed the heavy pan on top, briefly frying the biggest piece of beef in pig fat. After just a minute, turning the meat only once, I plated it, poured red wine into a tall glass, and made for Father’s study. His plate looked bare, except for the blood that had pooled around the meat. I knocked, and waited.”

Published in 2011 in the Whitechapel 13 Anthology (US) (Editor: Brian L. Porter).

 

On the Way Home

Co-winner of The Lonely Voice: Short Story Introductions competition hosted by the Irish Writers’ Centre, where Paul read this story on February 23rd, 2011 (Judge: Michael O’ Ruairc).

 

The Girl Missing from the Window

Flash story longlisted in Q4/2010 of Flash 500 Competition (Judge: Iain Pattison).

 

Tarts

Shortlisted in 2010 (final 26 from 849 entries) for The Seán Ó Faoláin Prize (Judge: Tania Hershman).

 

Nightshift

Flash story shortlisted in Q2/2010 of Flash 500 Competition (Judge: Jane Wenham-Jones).