Storytelling is in my blood
Ann O'Loughlin by Paddy Cummins
My father was a great storyteller. He grew up hearing stories being told around around the fireside. When I was young, he didn’t need a book at story time, he had enough stories in his head to keep all five of us children greatly entertained.That my stories have turned in to novels published all over the world is a source of great pride and joy for me.
I can’t think of a time I won’t want to write and tell stories.
My work as a journalist informs my fiction
I have worked as a journalist in Ireland all my life. You see all sides of life as a journalist, good and bad. The inspiration for my novel, My Mother’s Daughter is firmly rooted in real life, two babies swapped at birth and finding out years later. I was interested in following the journey of the two mothers. All the time as I created the fictional story inspired by true events, it was going through my head, what would I do in those heartbreaking circumstances?
A black panther once stalked me in the jungle in India
It was dusk, and we should never have gone for a walk. I was terrified. We could not run. We were sitting ducks. This fine animal increased his speed from a walking pace to a trot. He caught up with us, looked straight in to my eyes, but veered off in a different direction.
Every author has a story about how they got an agent and so do I
I was sending out so many submissions to literary agents. The rejections were disheartening.
I emailed agent, Jenny Brown. Fifteen minutes later she rang me.
She loved my three chapters and could I send the full manuscript? That first novel The Ballroom Café became a worldwide kindle bestseller.
It was not until much later, I heard Jenny’s side of the story.
Jenny was on a train back from a crime writing festival in Scotland. She had forgotten to charge her laptop the night before and was left with just her phone. Scrolling through her email, what plopped in, but my submission. She opened it and began to read.
It was a case of right time, right agent.
I have one big regret
My friend, journalist Eugene Moloney was killed in an unprovoked attack on a
Dublin street. I wish we could have back that last time we met. We both waved to each other across a busy street, shouted something like we must meet up.
When news came through Eugene had been killed with a one punch blow on a Dublin street, it shook me to the core. I still find it hard to believe that this bear of a man , who was so full of fun and kindness could lose his life in such a shocking way. I determined there and then that life was too short to be worrying and way too short not to follow my dreams.
I was once on a plane I thought was going to crash
It was on the approach to the city of Calcutta when the sky darkened. The plane shuddered. The plane shook and dipped sharply. My stomach flipped, my mouth was dry. Fear surged through me. The plane made strange noises . There was a collective sigh of relief when the plane levelled off, but almost straight away, it began to rattle and shake again. It shook like a toy plane in the eye of a storm, before dipping suddenly, dropping down. It felt like we were plummeting.
The Indian man across the aisle counted one, two, three , four, five.
An eerie calm descended on the passengers. Those brave enough to look outside saw lightning flash across a sky packed with monsoon clouds of rain.Rain began to pound on the plane.
As abruptly as it began, it was over. This time the plane climbed in the sky. When it eventually landed safely, everybody almost wept with relief.
The man who had been counting pulled me aside.
"You know we fell 5,000 feet", he said. That was just under a mile.
My passion is travel
I started late when I was 19 years old with a trip to New York and I have not stopped since. I have travelled all over the former Eastern Europe and Soviet Union, the US, Australia Mongolia and China. The Forbidden City, Beijing is my favourite place in the whole world.
I get up at 5am to write
The house is quiet, it is just me and my faithful dog. Max, the Labrador still wags the tail before digging deeper in to his basket for an extra snooze. I write for two hours before getting ready for work.I don’t check the clock, Max knows when he wants me to stop and take him out for his morning walk.
I once had limpets for breakfast nettle soup for lunch and seagull for dinner
On a four day survival course on the Saltee Islands off the east coast of Ireland, we prised limpets from the rocks, plucked nettles from the stalk and managed to snare a seagull. It was all revolting.
My piece of wisdom ……for what it is worth
Live every day, be kind and laugh a lot. There are enough hard days down the road, so enjoy every moment and celebrate every event. Celebrate life but above all, follow your dreams.
