Happy (belated) International Women’s Day!

I’ll be honest, the last two weeks haven’t been my most productive on the writing front – BUT, they haven’t been a write off either (BaDumChh). I’m currently trying to finish off a crime story, written mostly from the perspective of a female Garda. It’s fun and I think I’ll post it in it’s entirety on here when I’ve completed it as I haven’t uploaded anything story wise for a while.

I remember worrying in the earlier days of writing, about writing from the perspective of a woman; specifically getting the character’s voice to sound right. It was a bit of a silly concern, as how could I realistically write from an addict’s perspective? Or a murderer’s? Or, taken to it’s natural conclusion, anybody who wasn’t me?

But it’s not without some consideration. I mean, girls by and large, are different to boys – if not always because of natural development, then by how society shapes us all.

Thankfully, when looking for inspiration for female characters, I have the benefit of having been surrounded by strong women my entire life. Most obvious are my amazing wife, mum and sister; all three incredible people. But I want to talk briefly about the Three Matriarchs I’ve been lucky enough to have known.

Mrs Bridie Meyler, Sr. Aengus Fitzpatrick and – people that know me won’t be surprised to hear – my granny, Bernadette Groogan.

All 3 women were and continue to be instrumental in who I am. Mrs Meyler, my piano teacher from the age of about 7 to 14, taught me a huge amount about discipline and the wonder of music. It was often humbling to be reminded that there were people so much more talented than myself, but who would say “You can do this too – just practise!” She also slid a block of maturity into place for me when, during a lesson on the Tuesday afternoon of September 11th, 2001, she bluntly, though kindly, quelled the nervous excitement I was feeling after seeing something so dramatic and horrifying on the TV.

“It is bad Ethan. An awful lot of people will die. There’ll be war over this.”

Sister Aengus Fitzpatrick then, was a drama teacher. And that is like saying ‘The sun gives off a bit of a light’. Aengus was a mentor and a friend, who ran one of the only real cross community schemes in Omagh when I was growing up, was awarded an MBE and was just so so good at fostering talent. That was her gift to the world, a beautiful skill to have, amongst an already extensive list of skills. Some of my happiest memories from my teenage years and twenties were with Sr. A. She loved creating pieces of art so I think she’d approve of this latest hair brained venture I’ve started.

Finally then, Nanny. It’s difficult to know what to say about Nanny other than that anyone who really knows her, thinks the world of her – and they don’t even come close to understanding how wonderful she actually is.

One of my favourite stories to tell about her is from competing at the Ulster dancing championships when I was maybe 16. We were dancing a composed (12 people in our team) that had a real chance of doing well. I had a chest infection though and ruined things for everyone by semi fainting on the stage. When I came too, a good friend was leaning over me in a chair asking if I was okay. Before I could reply, he was literally tossed to the side, as Nanny came through. “Why did you stop dancing?!” She was smiling and deeply compassionate, in the face of something she cared so much about going up in smoke.

(Incidentally, I’d like to point out that I didn’t stop dancing until one of the adjudicators rung the bell, seeing me about to cope.)

Writing is about creating stories, made up of people. Sometimes those people will be completely created from scratch, but I think the ones that stick out – that are remembered as being ‘great characters’ will often contain the traits you see in others that you respect and love.

Thanks as always.