Jane Buckley's Blog: Is Self-Publishing a failure?, page 3

Our Brittle Peace in The North

A few weeks ago, at a very lively Foyle Women’s Information Network Facebook Q&A session, I was asked “what’s the most difficult thing you found when writing?”  Instinctively and without thinking, I answered, “the naughty bits!”  I’ll say no more other than when writing a few sexy scenes, I’d continually blush and panic thinking “me mammy’s going to read this!” 

But on a serious note, there really were some moments that I found extremely hard when writing.  My research was particularly difficult as I’d sit and watch hours and hours of news reels and You Tube documentaries about The Troubles.  The carnage and atrocities I learned about, I’ll never forget.  I’d listen to interviews with victims on both sides of the divide and read book after book – some of which gave me nightmares.   I was almost ashamed but astounded at how little I genuinely knew - yet I grew up in the heart of it all.  The Troubles affected everyone in the North in so many different ways and at so many different levels.  

There were times when I felt anger and frustration too.  However, I held back, knowing it was imperative to remain objective when writing Turmoil.  In writing Darkness, I’ve found exactly the same issues.  There’s no doubt I’ve hardened albeit some of the scenes in Darkness brought me to tears too. 

The CAIN archive (Conflict and Politics in Northern Ireland) proved invaluable as part of my research.  The site is a haven of information including its surreal photographs.  If you’ve never taken the time to browse it, do.  I highly recommend and guarantee you won’t be disappointed!  

Given what I discovered during my research and my emotional journey, it’s made me even more determined to complete the Stones Corner series, publish it and make it a success.

It’s almost ironic therefore with what’s happening in our cities at this time, that the sole purpose of writing the Stones Corner series was to educate our youth and others.  Some who have read it, lived through The Troubles and recognise so much.  I’ve tried to write a clear cut story of what it was like to live through the thirty year atrocities that were The Troubles.  I want them to learn and recognise it must never happen again.  However, tragically today, we see 12-year-olds rioting on their very own doorsteps.

In my mindset, I couldn’t imagine a teenager seeking out and reading the numerous political, historical books and papers written and centred around the war in Northern Ireland.  As such, I thought I’d write a “factional” thriller that would be both exciting and gripping.  A good, solid story with all the necessary ingredients to attract attention and interest.

As a writer, I wanted those who live outside the North of Ireland as well to understand our history and to recognise that bitterness still exists here.  Of course, it’s not everyone, thank goodness.  But still there are those few who just aren’t prepared to look to the future.  Sadly, our Province, our peace remains extremely brittle.  These naïve youngsters are rioting on their own streets, destroying their own communities, terrorising their own people and we should see this as a warning.  Beware.  They’re being led on by criminal gangs that no longer have the control they once had.  They’re being led on by politicians who are determined and angry at the British Government over the Protocol - a result of Brexit that some voted for. The idea that some politicians feel betrayed by the PNSI over not prosecuting potential breaches of Covid regulations during a Republican funeral hasn’t helped either.  And yet it goes on…. 

For our beautiful country to find a real, lasting peace we must continue to seek ways of wiping out the segregation that exists to this very day.  It’s apparent through our education, housing and even up to our language and sport that we must break these barriers down.  It breaks my heart.  Let’s move on.

Haven’t you had enough? 

And on that rather depressing note, I’m away to try and colour my 3” roots myself.  Why?
“Because I’m worth it!”

Jx

 

 

 

 

The Perfect Tale of Derry Ambition

It’s been a funny old week, hasn’t it? Missing another St Patrick’s Day hasn’t helped my mood, nor has the on-off lousy weather. My final hope that my print delivery of Stones Corner, Turmoil would be arriving at my gate wrapped up with a great big red bow this week didn’t happen either :( Although I’m told delivery will be next Friday, so to those loyal readers, your orders will be in the post the following day. Promise :)

As hard as things can seem, I quickly put myself back in my place and get motivated when I hear tales like that of Adrian Ross, a Derry man born and bred, introduced to me by the lovely Mary White. His is a story of hard work and determination to go after his dreams, starting his career at 10 years old and working his way up to travel the world. I was so inspired by his tale; I knew I had to share it. In truth, I could write a book on this man! But a blog post will have to do…

Adrian’s ambition was set at an early age. As a youngster of 11 or 12, Adrian would run down to the lower end of Fountain Street, where there was a big back door of a garment factory called Welch Margetson (WM). He would look into the workers’ social room, where they played badminton and table tennis to entertain themselves. He remembers saying to his young friends, “I’m going to work in there, and I’m going to be the boss someday!” That was Adrian’s dream, and he did it.

Growing up in a family of 10, Adrian started to contribute financially at the tender age of 10 years old. After school, he worked at the Commercial Paper Company, separating all sorts of cords for recycling. Paid on a Friday, he’d go straight home and hand his wages over to his mother.

With a taste for work, Adrian moved on to deliver laundry with Thomsons Dye Works. This was at a time when no one could afford to instantly buy new clothes, so old clothes were dyed to last longer. From there, he worked in a shop as a delivery boy. By now, he was 14 and ended up running the whole operation, including book-keeping! He laughs when he recalls vividly that with his share of his pay, he’d buy a quarter bottle of buttermilk, a tin of ambrosia rice and a big bar of chocolate!

Finally, at 15, he was offered his first step over the threshold of the Welch Margetson factory as a ‘Box Boy’. The WM management quickly recognised Adrian possessed a great deal of potential and talent and a natural ability to work well with people. Driven and determined, he was promoted again and, by now, was earning great money for his age. One day he was called to the manager’s office and told, “We’re going to offer you a job.” He waited. “We’re willing to put you in charge of the industrial cleaners. It’ll take your wages up by 50%.” It was a fantastic offer, but Adrian could only say, “I need to go home and see what my parents say.”

His parents wisely asked him, “Is it what you want, Adrian?” It wasn’t, and he told them so. “No, I want to be a proper manager sometime down the road!” He was to thank WM for the offer and say that he appreciated it, but no. When the surprised manager heard his decision, he said, “In 16 years, son, I’ve never had anyone come into this office and tell me what they wanted! Can I ask what it is you do want?” Without hesitation, Adrian answered, “I want to be sitting behind your desk one day!” The man’s eyes nearly popped out in surprise as he quickly sent Adrian on his way.

However, a few months later, he was called back to the oak-lined office again, where he met a Mr George Dunlop and a Mr Raymond Robinson. Adrian describes them later as both brilliant, sharp and clever men. He was informed he was joining George Dunlop’s works study department and asked if he had a good suit, good shoes etc, to wear. Next, he was instructed to take six brand-new shirts from stock. He laughs when he recalls how he wore the customary leather trousers for work, and the girls would call him “leather arse!”

After a year, at 18, he was offered a job as manager of the finishing department, and it wasn’t long before he became Robin Eagleson’s (Manager of the Pyjama Room) understudy - a man highly regarded by all. Adrian was put in charge of the trouser department, where he taught himself how to manufacture a pair of pyjamas from start to finish.

Not long after, Eagleson resigned, and Adrian was offered the job. Although he didn’t know much about the production of jackets (describing himself as always a trousers man!), he was given an ultimatum, take it or leave it. He took it!

Over a short time, he ended up increasing the pyjama department from one room to two. Extremely senior managers from Marks & Spencer would visit the site regularly and it wasn’t long before they heard of Adrian’s successes and asked to meet. Adrian describes himself, “I’m a perfectionist to the nth degree. If it wasn’t right, it wasn’t going to the customer. We don’t try and fob it off; we fix it.”

Eventually, he found himself running the finishing and assembly departments, after which he was offered the role of manager of the machine room. This was one of the most important managerial jobs in the factory. He remembers vividly, the first time he walked onto the floor as the new manager; the women at their machines held their scissors and slowly clicked, clicked, clicked them down onto the machines. This wasn’t a gesture of welcome for Adrian but a simple message - they didn’t want him there!

Within hours he got all the female supervisors together. They were brutal in their honesty and told him, “We don’t like you.” Adrian didn’t have to think long before he answered, “Well, I don’t like you either! So just do your job, we’ll get on the best and if you don’t, we won’t!”

Loving the attention, Adrian surrounded by "his united band!"

He describes the supervisors “as a tremendous bunch of women; they went through their trade and knew their stuff.” As time went by, they soon recognised Adrian was extremely fair and what you saw was what you got. The whole atmosphere changed, and again, he describes the floor as “a great united band of people.”

Adrian was never interested in the workers’ backgrounds, whether Catholic or Protestant. Both worked at the factory, and throughout the early days of The Troubles, there was never a day when religious or political issues affected the site. He remembers getting the 100’s of girls together and telling them, “M&S don’t care whether you’re a Protestant or a Catholic, they’re Jewish. We have to remember, at the end of the day, they manufacture in the UK, and our competitors are out there fighting for their business. If we have trouble here, they’ll take it off us tomorrow. So, I’ll be honest, we will not tolerate any in-fighting here.”

In time he finally became the Factory Manager of Welch Margetson! After 18 years and during the height of The Troubles, he was asked if he wanted to go to England to work. He did; life was too difficult with the constant horrors of a battling country. Now married with four young children, he left to move to Dewhirst, Redcar, where within a year, he was quickly made an Associate Director and, six years later, a Divisional Director.

Eventually, “the whizz kid” as he was known at Dewhirst Redcar, returned home to Derry with his wife, Gladys. However, this was after a long career in planning and building factories in countries ranging from Vietnam, Cambodia, Mauritius, and Morocco to as far away as New Zealand. Thank you Adrian - it’s been an absolute pleasure!

Jane Buckley

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The Power of Word of Mouth

These past few weeks, I’ve spent hours and hours marketing Stones Corner, Turmoil.  It must be said there’ve been days when I’ve opened my email with eyes full of hope eager for any response from the numerous news agencies, magazines, radio stations, book distributors, authors, you name it, I’ve contacted in the hope of recognition or promotion!  It has to be said that – at times – it’s sooooo depressing BUT once in a while I get a positive response and that warm gooey feeling sets me off for the day! 

In between all this, I’ve been reading so many marketing and sales books.  My God there’s so much information out there – it’s mind-blowing!  And me being me, I find myself lying awake at night thinking “How do I know if my book is a success?  How many books do I have to sell?  What else can I do?”  In the end, I found I was driving myself (and my husband) crazy!  With so much advice it was getting too much and so I made a decision.

I decided to step back for a moment and re-think my whole approach to marketing and promoting.  And so rather than send numerous emails to Tom, Dick and Harry, I’d focus on the core but fundamental rules.  I’m told one of the most important steps in promoting a book - and I know I’ve had you all tortured in asking you to do it - is to get reviews.  Reviews are extremely important but I’ve come to the conclusion that “word of mouth” matters as much.   How many of us have asked family or friends, “Did you see such and such on Netflix?”  Do we read reviews on Netflix?  Not always but we listen in anticipation when someone tells you excitedly to watch something.  It’s the same with book buyers!  The experts predict (and of course, they must be right!) that out of every 100 readers of my book, I’d be lucky to get between 5-10 reviews :( So everyone, my point - spread the word about Turmoil AND if you feel like it make my day and do a review! 

The SC Turmoil e-book is now waiting and ready to purchase on numerous on-line platforms including, Good Reads, Bookbub, Booksprout, Amazon and many more.  Given I’ve self-published, it’s proving almost impossible to get onto the “biggie” on and off-line distributors like Gardners that’ll allow me to sell to local and national chain bookshops.

As a result you can only buy a paperback copy of Turmoil and pre-order Darkness (by the way this is coming along nicely!) on my website.

And finally…

Look at those power leads under the desk! OMG!

I’ve tried to tidy my desk up this week and from the image here, you can see I’ve failed miserably :( Another task to add to my unending “To Do” list.  This is where it all happens, this is where the next book begins very soon, Stones Corner, Hope. 

And on a lighter note, my delivery of Turmoil  hard copies has finally arrived!  All day, I’ve been printing off the labels and preparing the packages ready to fulfil my outstanding orders and my goodness, I’m on a high!  

I can only thank you for reading my book, signing up for my newsletter, reading my blog, buying Turmoil and for your continual support.  I don’t say thank you because I can, I say it because I mean it - I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.

Have a peaceful weekend everyone.  It won’t be long until we can all sit out and have a nice glass of vino and a cold Guinness together :)

J.

The Perfect Tale of Derry Ambition

It’s been a funny old week hasn’t it! Missing another St Patrick’s Day hasn’t helped my mood nor has the on-off lousy weather. My final hope that my print delivery of Stones Corner, Turmoil would be arriving at my gate wrapped up with a great big red bow this week didn’t happen either :( Although I’m told delivery will be next Friday so to those loyal readers, your orders will be in the post the following day. Promise :)

As hard as things can seem, I quickly put myself back in my place and get motivated when I hear tales like that of Adrian Ross, a Derry-man born and bred, introduced to me by the lovely Mary White. His is a story of hard work and determination to go after his dreams, starting his career at 10 years old and working his way up to travel the world. I was so inspired by his tale; I knew I had to share it. In truth, I could write a book on this man! But a blog post will have to do…

Adrian’s ambition was set an early age. As a youngster of 11 or 12, Adrian would run down to the lower end of Fountain Street where there was a big back door of a garment factory called Welch Margetson (WM). He would look into the workers’ social room where they played badminton and table tennis to entertain themselves. He remembers saying to his young friends, “I’m going to work in there and I’m going to be the boss someday!” That was Adrian’s dream and he did it.

Growing up in a family of 10, Adrian started to contribute financially at the tender age of 10 years old. After school, he worked at the Commercial Paper Company separating all sorts of cord for recycling. Paid on a Friday, he’d go straight home and hand his wages over to his mother.

With a taste for work, Adrian moved on to deliver laundry with Thomsons Dye Works. This was at a time when no one could afford to instantly buy new clothes, and so old clothes were dyed to last longer. From there, he worked in a shop as a delivery boy. By now he was 14 and ended up running the whole operation including book-keeping! He laughs when he recalls vividly that with his share of his pay, he’d buy a quarter bottle of buttermilk, a tin of ambrosia rice and a big bar of chocolate!

Finally, at 15, he was offered his first step over the threshold of the Welch Margetson factory as a ‘Box Boy’. The WM management quickly recognised Adrian possessed a great deal of potential and talent and a natural ability to work well with people. Driven and determined, he was promoted again and by now was earning great money for his age.One day he was called to the manager’s office and told, “We’re going to offer you a job.” He waited. “We’re willing to put you in charge of the industrial cleaners. It’ll take your wages up by 50%.” It was a fantastic offer but Adrian could only say, “I need to go home and see what my parents say.”

His parents wisely asked him, “Is it what you want Adrian?” It wasn’t and he told them so. “No, I want to be a proper manager sometime down the road!” He was to thank WM for the offer and that he appreciated it, but no.When the surprised manager heard his decision, he said, “In 16 years son, I’ve never had anyone come into this office and tell me what they wanted! Can I ask what it is you do want?” Without hesitation Adrian answered, “I want to be sitting behind your desk one day!” The man’s eyes nearly popped out in surprise as he quickly sent Adrian on his way.

However, a few months later, he was called back to the oak-lined office again where he met a Mr George Dunlop and a Mr Raymond Robinson. Adrian describes them later as both brilliant, sharp and clever men. He was informed he was joining George Dunlop’s works study department and asked if he had a good suit, good shoes etc to wear. Next he was instructed to take six brand new shirts from stock. He laughs when he recalls how he wore the customary leather trousers for work and the girls would call him “leather arse!”

After a year, at 18, he was offered a job as manager of the finishing department and it wasn’t long before he became Robin Eagleson’s (Manager of the Pyjama Room) understudy - a man highly regarded by all. Adrian was put in charge of the trouser department where he taught himself how to manufacture a pair of pyjamas from start to finish.

Not long after, Eagleson resigned and Adrian was offered the job. Although he didn’t know much about the production of jackets (describing himself as always a trousers man!), he was given an ultimatum, take it or leave it. He took it!

Over a short time, he ended up increasing the pyjama department from one room to two. Extremely senior managers from Marks & Spencer would visit the site regularly and it wasn’t long before they heard of Adrian’s successes and asked to meet. Adrian describes himself, “I’m a perfectionist to the nth degree. If it wasn’t right, it wasn’t going to the customer. We don’t try and fob it off, we fix it.”

Eventually he found himself running the finishing and assembly departments after which he was offered the role of manager of the machine room. This was one of the most important managerial jobs in the factory. He remembers vividly, the first time he walked onto the floor as the new manager, the women at their machines held their scissors and slowly clicked, clicked, clicked them down onto the machines. This wasn’t a gesture of welcome for Adrian but a simple message - they didn’t want him there!

Within hours he got all the female supervisors together. They were brutal in their honesty and told him, “We don’t like you.” Adrian didn’t have to think long before he answered, “Well, I don’t like you either! So just do your job, we’ll get on the best and if you don’t, we won’t!”

Loving the attention, Adrian surrounded by "his united band!"

He describes the supervisors “as a tremendous bunch of women, they went through their trade and knew their stuff.” As time went by, they soon recognised Adrian was extremely fair and what you saw was what you got. The whole atmosphere changed and again he describes the floor as “a great united band of people.”

Adrian was never interested in the workers’ backgrounds whether Catholic or Protestant. Both worked at the factory and throughout the early days of The Troubles, there was never a day when religious or political issues affected the site. He remembers getting the 100’s of girls together and telling them “M&S don’t care whether you’re a Protestant or a Catholic, they’re Jewish. We have to remember; at the end of the day they manufacture in the UK and our competitors are out there fighting for their business. If we have trouble here, they’ll take it off us tomorrow. So, I’ll be honest, we will not tolerate any in-fighting here.”

In time he finally became the Factory Manager of Welch Margetson! After 18 years and during the height of The Troubles, he was asked if he wanted to go to England to work. He did, life was too difficult with the constant horrors of a battling country. Now married with four young children, he left to move to at Dewhirst, Redcar where within a year he was quickly made an Associate Director and six years later, a Divisional Director.

Eventually “the whizz kid” as he was known at Dewhirst Redcar, returned home to Derry with his wife, Gladys. However this was after a long career in planning and building factories in countries ranging from Vietnam, Cambodia, Mauritius, Morocco to as far away as New Zealand.Thank you Adrian - it’s been an absolute pleasure!

Back to me…

In a funny way, Adrian’s tale reminds me somehow of my own fortunate life experiences. Like me, he’s taken risks, he’s turned down jobs, he’s travelled all over the world with his job and he got what he wanted - the job of his dreams plus much more. Writing has become my dream and I’m taking risks again by making it happen and challenging myself to complete the two final books of the Stones Corner series, Light and Hope. Remember, it’s never too late to do anything!

Finally, a huge thank you to the Foyle Women’s Information Network (FWIN) for inviting me as guest speaker at their AGM and on their FB Chat forum last week. I’d especially like to thank their book club for choosing Turmoil as their reading for April! Should any of you have a book club and want to do the same, just let me know!

Take care everyone and please, keep sharing my facebook page. The more you share, the more people hear about my book! And reviews please! I know I’m nagging but they really do help!

A Short “Love” Story

One night I was sitting lazily on the sofa, bored and eating lots of chocolate, when I came across a writing experiment online. The challenge was to write a short story of 500 words about love, and the catch?  You weren’t allowed to use the word “love” or any other phrases or words associated with it.

I’ve always had a fascination and admiration for those who fought in the Great War. My Great Grandfather sadly died in the trenches when the British used mustard gas for the first time and the wind changed, blowing the poison straight back to the young soldiers. Given both Catholics and Protestants fought in World War I and II, I felt it appropriate when writing a short story that they should ALL be remembered.

Anyway! I thought it’d make a nice change from the endless hours of watching Netflix to see if I could rise to the challenge.  Thus half an hour or so later, this is what I came up with!  I hope you enjoy. 

J.  :)

They knew…

He stared down into her brimming, hazel grey eyes, pulled a strand of hair away from her face and held her hand caressing its palm tenderly with only his index finger.  They paid no attention to the noise and mayhem on the platform or the many other couples like them, who stood sad, nervous and afraid.

Adjusting his army cap he inhaled deeply and whispered into her lavender scented hair, “Look after Mammy for me.  Okay?  She’s not been the same since me Da you know.”

She nodded slowly, her heart pounding.  She’d been here before, standing in the very same spot on this very same platform, looking at him in the very same way. Her body vibrated and shivered, filled with terror at the images and horrors she knew were facing him.  She’d heard what it was really like and it overwhelmed her. 

He’d tried his best not to talk about it, but she’d watched him change, little by little, bit by bit when he’d return.  Inevitably he always left a piece of him behind in that foreign and faraway hell-hole.  She’d sworn last time she wouldn’t come to the station to say goodbye but she’d failed.  She had to be with him, just for those last sweet, painful moments.

“Are you listening Aileen?” He asked gravely.  He shivered, it was so bloody damp and cold.  His long army coat was thin and well-worn.   He sighed thinking of the mudbanks, rats and explosions that awaited his return.  He hated and dreaded leaving her.  It broke his heart into thousands of tiny, punishing, slivers that relentlessly gnawed at his very being.   He remembered being trapped, caught and tangled in that godforsaken wire, for those endless hours when he’d thought only of her.  The cruel piercing barbed wire felt kinder to his aching soul over the idea of never seeing her again.  He’d survived for her.

He noticed a giant uniformed man running in their direction followed by a blonde, heavily pregnant woman.  It was Eamon his cousin and his wife Emily.  He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel were Aileen pregnant.  The thought of leaving her like that was too great as he protectively placed his arm around her. 

When the pair reached them, Emily breathlessly hugged Aileen hard, she then pulled away to study her friend with pity.  Poor Aileen, she thought, she’d be left behind in that old rickety farm with that bitter and spiteful woman.  Emily thanked God, Eamon’s mam looked out for her. 

They all talked together until the whistle blew and each couple moved back seeking privacy.  Aileen looked at her husband with sorrow and half-smiled.  He kissed her, reluctantly stepped away and climbed onto the train.  As he quickly glanced back, their eyes met and said it all, words weren’t needed…they knew.

A Short "Love" Story

One night I was sitting lazily on the sofa, bored and eating lots of chocolate, when I came across a writing experiment online. The challenge was to write a short story of 500 words about love, and the catch? You weren’t allowed to use the word “love” or any other phrases or words associated with it.

I’ve always had a fascination and admiration for those who fought in the Great War. My Great Grandfather sadly died in the trenches when the British used mustard gas for the first time and the wind changed, blowing the poison straight back to the young soldiers. Given both Catholics and Protestants fought in World War I and II, I felt it appropriate when writing a short story that they should ALL be remembered.

Anyway! I thought it’d make a nice change from the endless hours of watching Netflix to see if I could rise to the challenge. Thus half an hour or so later, this is what I came up with! I hope you enjoy. J.

THEY KNEW....

He stared down into her brimming, hazel grey eyes, pulled a strand of hair away from her face and held her hand caressing its palm tenderly with only his index finger. They paid no attention to the noise and mayhem on the platform or the many other couples like them, who stood sad, nervous and afraid.

Adjusting his army cap he inhaled deeply and whispered into her lavender scented hair, “Look after Mammy for me. Okay? She’s not been the same since me Da you know.”

She nodded slowly, her heart pounding. She’d been here before, standing in the very same spot on this very same platform, looking at him in the very same way. Her body vibrated and shivered, filled with terror at the images and horrors she knew were facing him. She’d heard what it was really like and it overwhelmed her.

He’d tried his best not to talk about it, but she’d watched him change, little by little, bit by bit when he’d return. Inevitably he always left a piece of him behind in that foreign and faraway hell-hole. She’d sworn last time she wouldn’t come to the station to say goodbye but she’d failed. She had to be with him, just for those last sweet, painful moments.

“Are you listening Aileen?” He asked gravely. He shivered, it was so bloody damp and cold. His long army coat was thin and well-worn. He sighed thinking of the mudbanks, rats and explosions that awaited his return. He hated and dreaded leaving her. It broke his heart into thousands of tiny, punishing, slivers that relentlessly gnawed at his very being. He remembered being trapped, caught and tangled in that godforsaken wire, for those endless hours when he’d thought only of her. The cruel piercing barbed wire felt kinder to his aching soul over the idea of never seeing her again. He’d survived for her.

He noticed a giant uniformed man running in their direction followed by a blonde, heavily pregnant woman. It was Eamon his cousin and his wife Emily. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel were Aileen pregnant. The thought of leaving her like that was too great as he protectively placed his arm around her.

When the pair reached them, Emily breathlessly hugged Aileen hard, she then pulled away to study her friend with pity. Poor Aileen, she thought, she’d be left behind in that old rickety farm with that bitter and spiteful woman. Emily thanked God, Eamonn’s mam looked out for her.

They all talked together until the whistle blew and each couple moved back seeking privacy. Aileen looked at her husband with sorrow and half-smiled. He kissed her, reluctantly stepped away and climbed onto the train. As he quickly glanced back, their eyes met and said it all, words weren’t needed…they knew.

The Realities of a “Mixed Marriage”

Born into a Protestant family, William* attended Foyle College in Londonderry before securing a job with a local clothing manufacturer.  He attended several training courses at colleges in England and constantly met people who told him, “sure there’s Irish in my family too!”

As a naïve 16 year old, he vividly remembers dating a Catholic girl.  One day they were happily walking up Waterloo street, hand in hand, wearing their school uniforms – he in his Protestant Foyle College uniform and she in her Catholic, Thornhill College uniform.  Within seconds, they saw four young lads walking towards them.  As they passed by, one of them suddenly spat at William and called him a “Jaffa bastard!” 

When William got home he asked his mother what they’d meant.  She laughed and explained he’d been called a “Jaffa” because they’d assumed he was an “Orangeman” quickly adding that he obviously wasn’t and that he definitely wasn’t a “bastard!”  He still laughs about it today when he recalls how green (forgive the pun) he was! 

When talking of his wife, he describes it as “love at first sight!” William says of Gina  “I was moved to a rural factory and was being introduced to the staff by my boss.  I was 28 and she was only 20.  Gina was from a Catholic family (Italian Grandfather) with dark hair and that beautiful olive skin.  She was gorgeous (and still is!) and I knew right then that I would marry her.” They’ve been married now for 34 years,

One Friday afternoon when they’d finished work, Gina asked William to give her and a friend a lift into Derry to do some shopping.  He invited them to the Mourne Bar for a drink before they parted company.  Left on their own for a brief moment, he’d been staring at Gina when she’d asked what was wrong.  He laughs again when he recalls his cheesy answer, “nothing, I’m looking at your lips, they need to be kissed!”

Gina lived in quite a Republican area and William lived in a Protestant area in Derry.  It never concerned him, not once, that Gina was Catholic.  However, her father began to worry when he thought the relationship was becoming obsessive, announcing that if William came near the house again, he’d get “the two barrels.”  An optimistic friend of William’s suggested perhaps it meant he’d get two barrels of beer (ah, bless).  But somehow, William didn’t think so!

Gina’s dad was a devout Catholic who, whilst working for the Forestry Commission, naively joined the UDR part-time during the early days of the Troubles.  He decided to leave quite quickly when he concluded that metal shutters on his windows and front door and having to meet callers after dark with his shotgun, was not conducive to a happy home life. 

A year after the couple started seeing each other they got engaged on Gina’s 21st birthday.  William was asked to meet the local priest one evening for a “wee chat..”   Unfortunately he’d also accepted an invitation for a few drinks with the lads in the cutting room at the factory as it broke up for Christmas.  When he did manage to make it back to pick up a furious Gina she’d shouted angrily at him, “look at the state of you! We’re seeing Father Malley tonight!”   

William apologised profusely and tried his best to pacify her as he explained, “but I only had a few drinks with the lads.”  It goes without saying, the eventual meeting was not a success since Gina’s parents were later told by Father Malley, “that one’s too set in his ways!”

Sadly the relationship with Gina’s parents collapsed and the young couple booked a holiday to the Caribbean island of St Lucia.  William secretly ticked the “Honeymoon Special” and after changing flights at Heathrow, the BA cabin crew announced there was a honeymoon couple on board.  The whole flight clapped and congratulated them and they were presented with a bottle of champagne.  Gina was a little shocked but delighted even though William warned her it was going to be a very small wedding.

During the first week they organised the church and the licence, signed by the Governor of the island as was the legal requirement.  Word spread quickly as the couple made friends with guests and hotel staff.  The best man was actually there on his own honeymoon and his wife became Gina’s bridesmaid.  William borrowed a jacket from another holidaymaker who gave Gina away and another couple suggested their young daughter act as a flower girl.  Another guest even offered to video and photograph the whole event!  Remember, this was 34 years ago before packaged “Weddings abroad” were even thought about :)

As William was leaving the church, he was approached by a guy who introduced himself and his French Canadian wife.  He explained he was originally from Pennyburn in Derry and had emigrated to Canada 25 years earlier.  When William invited them to attend the reception, he accepted immediately saying, “me ma will never believe I was at a Derry man’s wedding in St Lucia!” 

Although there was no immediate family in attendance, the guest list had somehow grown to 30 with the hotel laying on a cake and champagne.  It’d been a truly wonderful day!

Arriving back home just before they were due to return to work, Gina rang home to tell her parents she and William had married.  Her mother worked in the same factory and Gina wanted to prepare her.  The following day word spread fast around the site and Gina’s mother became so upset with all the questioning she had to leave for home.

There was no communication from then on with Gina’s family until the birth of their daughter Orla a while later.  Gina’s dad contacted her and asked if he and his wife could see Gina and meet their newly born granddaughter.  This resulted in a complete reversal of fortunes and the ice was finally, and to everyone’s relief, broken.

Shortly after their son Shane was born  seven years later, William was offered the position of Operations Director with a UK-based company.  It meant the whole family would move to Colombo, Sri Lanka where the offshore production facility was.

The children attended an international school made up of 26 different nationalities.  There were Buddhist, Hindu, Muslim and Christian pupils with no mention of Catholic or Protestant.  Home was never far away from their thoughts especially when William’s driver, Randolph, continued to play his favourite Daniel O’Donnell tapes in the car!

The family never encountered any religious bigotry whilst in Sri Lanka and had friends from all sections of the community.  However, upon returning home to Derry, Orla was quickly asked what religion she was.  She was proud to respond by saying, “I’m half and half.”  Even though Shane returned to his original primary school class, he was renamed, “P*ki” given his skin had become so dark from the sun. 

Within days of returning home to Derry, William was surprisingly offered a job in Tarapor, India and Gina was left to unpack their 20 ft container of personal belongings from Sri Lanka.  Ouch!

William describes India as “an attack on the senses!”   Sri Lanka had only partially prepared him for India’s fast, highly populated and industrious society.  This job led to another project in Romania where he was offered a General Manager’s position.  However, given the lack of English speaking schools that would’ve been too detrimental on the children’s education.  He turned it down.

Additional work then took William to Estonia, Turkey, China and Bangladesh. Importantly, he accepted these offers knowing Gina was providing the children with a solid and safe family environment back home in Derry. 

William returned and he and Gina are now settled and happily living in Derry.  However, no doubt encouraged by their world-wide adventures at such an early age, their two  children live in Perth, Western Australia. 

Like many proud Derry families, William and Gina are counting the days until they can once again fly to Australia and finally hug the children they’ve missed so much.   

Bon voyage  (hopefully soon!) :)

*Please note names have been changed to protect the family's privacy. The photo is sourced from the Belfast Live and is not a representation of the couple.

Celebrating Derry’s Factory Girls

Hi everyone!

Well, as promised, here is the first of a number of interviews I’ve carried out over this past week. 

Where do I start? What a wonderful lady to interview! She is known by most – if not all – of Derry.  The lovely, Mary White (née Doherty).

We spoke late last year and I can still hear the unending enthusiasm and love in her voice for Derry and her experience of working in a shirt factory.  She talked of her long-time friends when, as a Catholic, she first began to work in the early 60’s in Welch Margetsons.  The site was next to a Protestant area of the city, The Fountain, and so 60% or so of the employees were Protestant.

“Politics was never brought into the factory.  We just got on with our jobs and soon we were friends.   It was funny mind-you,” she recalls, “we never got St Paddy’s day off but we did the 12th July!”

Within a matter of years, Mary left the factory to have her son, Gary.  Living at the bottom of Blighs Lane, between Creggan and the Bogside, she and her family lived in the very heart of the troubles.  It soon became too much when one day her husband noticed a soft drink can had been stuffed and taped around the exhaust of his car.  The usual course of action would’ve been to call the army’s bomb disposal team.  However, in his anger, he quickly kicked the can off and away.  He was lucky it wasn’t a real device; he wouldn’t have survived.  Instead, it’d been planted to entice the army into the area – a trap.  She remembers how upset he was when phoning her from Du Pont where he worked.  They soon moved.

 Full of vigour and life, Mary has so many tales to tell during these troubled times….

…“Jim, my husband had white hair from a very early age and was well known in the town.  As he was walking to his car one day, an army foot patrol were making their way past.  Jim was suddenly stopped by one of the soldiers who asked his name.  Jim White, he answered.  The soldier immediately took offence and quickly grabbed and pulled at Jim’s hair!  He thought poor Jim was taking the hand and was being sarcastic pretending to be the snooker player, Jimmy White.   It took some time for Jim to prove who he was until he presented his driving licence!  It didn’t matter that Jim White the Derry man didn’t look anything like the real man himself!”

Another tale tells of a soldier who stopped Jim along the Quayside in Derry at an army checkpoint.  Recognising Jim’s iconic white hair and his family from hours and hours of watching the streets from one of Blighs Lane Army watchtowers, he told him a story.

One Christmas Day he’d watched Jim, Mary and their little boy and girl walking along the street with their Christmas presents including a doll and a pram.  Mary recalls they were on their way to show off their gifts to their granny.  With tears blinding him, the soldier continued to observe the family.  It turned out he’d a daughter and son the same age and for obvious reasons was missing them that particular Christmas Day. 

Left to right: Helen Cunningham, Rose Doherty and Mary White

Friends for life! Helen, Rose and Mar

Joe Campbell mural in Derry’s craft village.

Mary recalls the old days as being tough but continues to work with many other factory girls to promote and celebrate the legacy of the city’s once thriving industry.  Artwork, designed by Joe Campbell and painted by UV Arts can be found in the heart of Derry’s craft village.  A factory girls sculpture has been commissioned and once life returns to some form of normality work will commence and it will be placed in the heart of the city centre.

Thank you, Mary and all those wonderful and proud Derry factory girls! :)

What’s next?

Well the printer hasn’t got paper yet - still stuck in customs! :( I’m not saying anything more but all my orders have been fulfilled. 

I can’t wait to hear your reactions to the story. As ever, I humbly ask that once you’ve read Turmoil, you don’t keep it to yourself. Reviews are SO important when publishing independently. So please leave a review, share my facebook page, blogs, Instagram, twitters, tweets or whatever they’re called and spread the word!  I’ve only got approx. 140,000 places to go until Turmoil is the number 1 Amazon bestseller!  (No pressure!).  It takes just a few seconds to share and a few minutes to review.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be writing up more interviews.  The first from a young man who married a Catholic girl and who describes their experiences of a mixed marriage before, during and after the Troubles.

After that an interview that most likely will not serve him true justice - such a life he has led.  A fine gentleman and a true character, Adrian Ross who began to work part-time after school at the tender age of nine.  I won’t tell you much more yet, but stay tuned for a truly fascinating story of determination and sheer hard work. 

Wishing you all a lovely weekend. Wrap up warm, buy my book and relax!  It’s going to be a chilly couple of days!

J.

Dealing with my own bias

A few weeks ago, I was interviewed on BBC Radio Ulster and was asked a fair and interesting question…

“When you’re writing a story like this, how do you tackle your inherent one-sided-ness?”

On air, time was limited so I talked briefly about how I use to mix with those of other faiths through sport.  However, I’ve been thinking about this question ever since and thought I’d go into this a little more.

As a teenager, I was a good swimmer and as a result was able to travel all over Ireland and Scotland - albeit I wasn’t good enough to get to England!  My experience of long & tough training weekends in Derry and at the amazing 50-metre pool in Jordanstown Uni, allowed me to meet all sorts of people from varying faiths, class and politics.  To this day a number remain true friends.

The other reason and probably the most important, were my parents.  I was brought up to “never judge a book by its cover.” Forgive the pun, but truly that was how I was raised.  No-one knows what goes on behind closed doors or what’s going on in someone else’s head.  We’re all human, not mind readers, and shouldn’t pre-judge anyone full stop. 

I appreciate I was privileged to have such experiences so young and undoubtedly, they prepared me for the ‘real world’ - especially as a 17-year old Irishwoman moving to London in the middle of The Troubles.  Sport had allowed me to connect and talk to anyone, no matter their background - my first husband ended up as a London Policeman for goodness sake! 

Although times have moved on and we are beginning to heal in the North, I believe it’s more important than ever that we keep check of our biases and remember to see people for who they are - PEOPLE! :)

 

Anyway. Rant over! What’s been happening this week?

Once again being open, I’ve struggled a bit lately with lock-down.  The weather has been horrible, I’m fed up walking up and down the same lane with my poor dog, Ned.  I’m sure he looks at me at times as if to say, “Really?  We’re doing this again!”

You may have seen or read about the cock-up at the ports meaning most printing companies in Ireland are running out of paper! There is such a backlog of goods stuck in containers waiting to be released.

Sadly, we're looking at four weeks until I get my first delivery of Stones Corner, Turmoil.

Fortunately though, I can send all your orders directly from an online distributor, so they should get to you from next week!  Frustratingly, I won't be able to sign them or thank you personally for your support :(

The lovely Jenni from Little Acorns Bookstore here in Derry has agreed to stock my book (when it finally arrives!) and I’m absolutely delighted.  I really look forward to working with her – thank you Jenni! 

Kindle sales are going strong and I’m dying to hear those reviews so bring it on!  It’s 461 pages long and, I’ve been told already “…it’s a bloody good read!”  You can pick up the kindle edition here.

Thinking ahead when COVID is finally over, we’re planning a book launch of Stones Corner, Darkness later this year at the Playhouse, Derry with a very special guest joining us so watch this space.

 

The week ahead….

I’ll be interviewing a lady and gentleman who worked in the shirt factories in Derry for many years and hearing their stories.  All to be shared on this blog so stay tuned!

And Remember, never judge a book by its cover!

 

Authors you didn’t realise were self-published!

When looking for inspiration from other authors, I thought I’d take a look to see how many successful authors self-published. I was stunned! Recognise any of them?

Frank Baum, Thomas Hardy, Charles Dickens, Roddy Doyle, James Joyce, D H Lawrence, James Patterson, J K Rowling, Mark Twain, Beatrix Potter…. I could go on!

Even E L James of 50 Shades of Gray… I don’t know how she did that, I still blush when I think of the love scenes in Stones Corner: Turmoil… Anyway, moving on swiftly!

Are you as surprised as I am?  I couldn’t believe these authors all received the same number of rejections I did. Self-publishing is far from easy but this tells us it’s not impossible.

So what’s been happening this week?

It’s been an exciting one!  My website is live and taking pre-orders for Stones Corner: Turmoil.  It’s been amazing seeing the orders coming in from all over the world including as far away as New Zealand and not just from family and friends - a truly wonderful beginning!

I found a terrific printer through my self-publishing guru Orla Kelly. We decided to go with Anglo Printers in Drogheda.  Disappointingly, I sent out thirteen requests locally and only four responded!  Three couldn’t do it but one could, Paddy the owner of bizzprint.ie in Letterkenny, he was amazing and couldn’t do enough but sadly time was not our friend.

The final manuscript is now being typeset ready for printing and I’ve been assured delivery from early February, all in time to post to those readers who’ve been busy ordering their first signed copies.

Stones Corner: Darkness is going through its second edit and should be with me ready for final amendments then off to the copy editor.  We’ve decided to launch it in late September 2021 but you can pre-order your copy now from my shop.

 

What’s next?

Kindle!  A kindle edition of Turmoil is available and priced at £8.99 on Amazon. This is wonderful for all those international readers who don’t want a hard copy nor have to pay the extortionate postal charges.  For the record, I’ve done everything I can to keep shipping and production costs down :)

Once the books are dispatched and read, I’d love it if readers could give some feedback and place their comments under the “review” page on my facebook page. Good or bad!  I can take it – remember I’ve been rejected so many times I’m a walking Teflon! 

So everyone, let’s get Derry back on the map!  The Stones Corner series may not be as funny as Derry Girls, but it does show how strong and proud we are of our beautiful city. 

Spread the word and please share any blogs or posts that I put out there.

What a week that was! Phew!

J.