Clodagh Phelan's Blog, page 3

A subtle thriller with a beating heart

Norwegian by Night is subtle and complex while managing to be a very good read and a page-turner all at the same time. The compulsion to turn the page accelerates as the book progresses but in the meantime there’s all the richness of the prose and the story to keep you reading.

Set, incongruously but very satisfactorily, against the backdrop of the Korean war and the Serbian – Kosovan conflict in former Yugoslavia, this is the story of Sheldon, an elderly Jewish man uprooted from his New York...

Craft or Calling?

When I first started writing, I simply wrote. I wrote in every form except the novel. Too long. Too difficult. Not for me. Or so I thought. Until I tried it and found it was a perfect fit. Typical! I discovered how to write by writing and by copying what my favourite authors did. Later, when I began to write novels, I also read some wise, practical ‘how-to’ books on the craft.

For it is a craft. Yes, there is such a thing as inspiration and inherent talent. Yes, some things can’t be taught but...

St Pancras Chambers – from cosy to cool

Flikr.com – The old booking hall

In The Eighteenth of November Fabriel and Alice take refuge in the derelict St Pancras Chambers after the fire. It becomes their home for the duration of the story. I have always loved that wonderful mock-Gothic building. I bless Sir John Betjeman for his part in getting it listed Grade I, thus saving it from being demolished. Despite its listed status, when I was writing the book the building was still in a terrible mess, both inside and, perhaps a little less...

A Near Miss

I was really looking forward to reading this book. I was attracted by the cover (so nice not to have yet another wishy-washy, pastel chick-lit type of cover) and by the title and the blurb on Amazon. I’d also read some splendid psychological thrillers recently, notably Gone Girl and was eager for more. I was to be disappointed.

Strangely though, this was almost a good read. That is, if you are thinking mostly in terms of the need to keep reading to find out what happens. On the other hand I fo...

A cloaked, twisted figure …

Extract from Chapter 10 – The Eighteenth of November

The light from the vast clock glowed sharp white, throwing a carved gargoyle into sinister relief. Alice jumped, her heart racing like a hamster’s wheel. She was being silly, she told herself, there was nothing to be frightened of, it was just a stone effigy. She set off again, gripping the rail more tightly. After a few steps she glanced back; she let out a shriek, stumbled and almost fell. It had moved. She was sure it had moved; and its e...

On the roof

Extract from Chapter 10 – The Eighteenth of November

The roof looked very steep, and dangerous. Alice nearly cried out for him to be careful. Remembered just in time that angels are used to heights. She wasn’t used to heights. She wanted him to come and help her but something about him stopped her calling out. The doorway led onto a long, narrow platform; Alice stepped out onto it, clinging onto the doorframe with one hand and not letting go until she could hold the platform rail with the othe...

Alice and the Mice

Extract from Chapter 7 – The Eighteenth of November

The first thing Alice noticed was the mice. They were everywhere, lying across the rails and between the rails. Some were stretched out on the platforms, some huddled under the benches. They lay singly and in piles, perfect little corpses. Someone had once told her why the mice in the underground were so small but she couldn’t remember now. It didn’t matter anyway. They were dead. Alice knelt down and took one of the tiny creatures between he...

A surreal, twentieth-century parody of hell

An extract from Chaper 6- The Eighteenth of November

The escalator levelled out. People pressed forward. Fabriel was shoved hard against the girl; the back of her neck was soaked in sweat. He put his arms out to protect her, suddenly conscious of the wet on his own shirt and under his arms. His feet were burning. He looked down; flames were licking round his ankles in a surreal, twentieth-century parody of hell. Then a noise like a high wind. Something that looked like a jet of flame. People s...

Alice knew quite a lot about angels …

An extract from Chapter Two – The Eighteenth of November

Alice thought she heard the alarm clock shrill, but turned over and decided she’d dreamed it. Then she dreamed that she heard something scratching at the door. It was only when Lucy jumped on her back that she realised the sounds had been real. ‘Get off cat!’ She turned over and burrowed under the covers but Lucy just came further up the bed and sat on her head. Alice shook the duvet to dislodge the animal, but she clung on with all four...

Fabriel’s Dream

An extract from Chapter One – The Eighteenth of November

He was running through a wood, moving faster than the ground allowed. His toe caught on a root, he fell heavily onto his shoulder and lay winded. He scrambled to his feet, cursing, and ran on until the trees began to thin out and he could see a vast field, stretching ahead of him. It sloped downwards in a gentle gradient before rising sharply to a small hill. His breath caught in his throat. From the summit of the hill a column of smoke...