Here is my interview with Gerry McCullough

 

Name Gerry McCullough
Age Over twenty-one
Where are you from
Born in Belfast, Northern Ireland and still live about a dozen miles away.
A little about your self, ie your education Family life etc
I graduated from Queen’s University Belfast with a Joint Honours degree in English Literature and Philosophy, and followed this with an MA in English Literature, also from Queen’s. I’m married to singer-songwriter, writer and radio presenter Raymond McCullough, and have four children.

 

 
Fiona: Tell us your latest news.
Gerry: I’ve finally finished a book which I’ve been working on for over a year, and it was published in the middle of August. It’s called Johnny McClintock’sWar: One Man’s Struggle Against the Hammer Blows of Life, and it’s set in the early 20th century. John Henry McClintock, a Northern Ireland Protestant by upbringing, meets and falls in love with Rose Flanagan, a Catholic, at a gospel mission just before the First World War.
When Johnny enlists and goes away to fight in the War he finds himself surrounded by death and tragedy and is pushed to the limit to hold on to his trust in God. He returns home after the Armistice to a bitter, war torn Ireland where he and Rose are both seen as traitors to their own sides, and to further challenges.
John Henry and Rose overcome all opposition and marry. But a few years later comes the worst blow of all. Can John Henry still keep his belief in God?
You can buy it here: http://smarturl.it/JohnnyMcClintocksWar

 

 

Fiona: When and why did you begin writing?
Gerry: I grew up in a family where everyone was a reader, and I soon discovered the joy of reading for myself. The next step was to try to produce the things I enjoyed, and so I began writing in early childhood. Teachers at school encouraged me to believe I had talent – and the rest is history!

 

 

Fiona: When did you first consider yourself a writer?
Gerry: When I first had a short story actually published and paid for in a magazine called Ireland’s Own. This was A Tale of A Teacup: a Tale of Old Seamus, and I’ve since written 44 more Old Seamus Stories, and plan to go on writing them as long as my editor asks me to! The first 12 are collected in The Seanachie, published two years ago, and available here: http://smarturl.it/Seanachie1 A collection of another 12 will be published as The Seanachie 2: Norah on the Beach, in September and can be pre-ordered here: http://smarturl.it/Seanachie2 I have a soft spot for these stories just because one of them was my first published work, and I always enjoy writing them.

 

 

Fiona: What inspired you to write your first book?

Gerry: The first book I wrote was an imitation of Georgette Heyer, whom I loved from way back, before I was in my teens. The next was a boarding school story, again an imitation of the sort of writers I loved, like Nancy Breary. So the inspiration came, as I said above, from reading, enjoying and wanting to reproduce. These were, of course, just juvenilia. My first full length published book, however, was Belfast Girls, the story of 3 girls growing up in Belfast at the end of the troubles, and I wanted to write it to make people understand that we don’t all hate each other in this country, even if we are from different religious backgrounds. This is the link: http://smarturl.it/BelfastGirls

 

 
Fiona: Do you have a specific writing style?
Gerry: I try to keep things short and easy. My style has been called ‘spare’, which is what people say of Ernest Hemingway, so it’s quite a compliment. But I also like to include a lyrical touch in my descriptions. George Orwell said that the most important thing in prose writing is clarity – ‘Good prose is like a window pane’. I’ve always liked that, and made it my aim.

 

 
Fiona: How did you come up with the title?
Gerry: Since I now have 5 adult novels published, as well as a YA book and a short story collection, the question is, which book? Actually, the answer is the same for all of them. I start off with the best title I can think of, and inevitably change it, often many times, until I finally reach what seems to me the ideal. Johnny McClintock’s War, for instance, began as a short story called Dark Night. I like its new title because it has a double meaning – the book is about both inner and external conflict – and because the inclusion of his name in an informal style – ‘Johnny McClintock’ rather than ‘John Henry McClintock’ – makes it more immediate and personal.

 

 

 

Fiona: Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?
Gerry: Still talking about my current new release, I wouldn’t call it exactly a message. The book is about a person and his struggle to hang on to his faith in God in spite of everything he goes through, so it definitely has a meaning. But it isn’t saying, ‘This is what you ought to do or believe,’ it’s simply saying, ‘This is how Johnny lives his life.’ A work of fiction seldom benefits from an outright message, I think.

 

 

Fiona: How much of the book is realistic?
Gerry: It’s been very thoroughly researched, since unlike my other books it’s set long before I was born. I’ve read numerous books, both fiction and non fiction, and used the Internet as well. I think I can be reasonably confident that I have the main background right. But the characters and events are completely imaginary, of course.

 

 

Fiona: Are the experiences based on someone you know, or events in your own life?
Gerry: The story and characters that I write about, I always find, are a mixture of people I’ve known (including myself!) anecdotes I’ve heard, and things I’ve experienced, to which I’ve given a thorough creative transformation. In this new book, one particular life story was told to me briefly by my first husband’s grandmother while we were washing dishes together at her kitchen sink one day. It became the basis for the original short story, Dark Night, from which Johnny McClintock’s War grew. But of course Granny-in-law’s story, too, has been radically changed, to turn it into fiction, and I should add that it gave me only a very small part of the final book.

 

 

Fiona: What books have most influenced your life?
Gerry: That’s a very hard question – I’ve read so many. I honestly don’t think I can make a choice. Possibly the plays of Bernard Shaw when I was a teenager. Certainly the Bible. Probably Cold Comfort Farm. Otherwise, I’ve no idea!

 

 

Fiona: If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor?
Gerry: I have to admit, I’m not really into mentors. But if I was simply forced to have one, then probably Jane Austin. Her writing has everything I love – wit, romance, wisdom and common sense, and a great style.

 

 

Fiona: What book are you reading now?
Gerry: I’m currently rereading Cold Comfort Farm, by Stella Gibbons, one of my favourite books of all time. It’s so funny, and Flora Poste is a real role model for me – I think she’s the first truly modern woman.

 

 

Fiona: Are there any new authors that have grasped your interest?
Gerry: There are so many excellent new writers these days that I’d find it hard to pick out one or two. I might say Tom Winton; Sheila Mary Taylor; Cheryl Shireman; Christoph Fischer and Ann Swinfen for a start. Then there’s Stacey Danson aka Suzanna Burke; Barbara Silkstone; Juliet B. Madison; John Holt – the list goes on and on. I’ve probably left out someone I love.

 

 

Fiona: What are your current projects?
Gerry: I’m starting to turn Belfast Girls into a play. A local theatre has expressed interest in this, but I put it on the back burner to finish Johnny McClintock’s War. I find I can only really concentrate on one thing at a time – so much for women being multi- tasking. I’m certainly not!

 

 

Fiona: Name one entity that you feel supported you outside of family members.
Gerry: My Internet writing friends. They’ve been consistently helpful and supportive. Thanks, all of you, if you’re reading this!

 

 

Fiona: Do you see writing as a career?
Gerry: Definitely. I hope to be able to make a living from it. It certainly supplements my income very usefully right now.

 

 

Fiona: If you had to do it all over again, would you change anything in your latest book?
Gerry: No. I’ve worked very hard at this book for quite a while, and at the moment I’m feeling a sense of achievement and peace, much like after I had my babies. I wouldn’t change anything, any more than I would have changed any of them. But who knows how I’ll feel in a few years time?

 

 

Fiona: Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?
Gerry: As I said above, it sprang from my interest in reading.

 

 

Fiona: Can you share a little of your current work with us?
Gerry: Yes, here’s Chapter 18 of Johnny McClintock’s War:
Chapter Eighteen

 

On the following morning, word came that the troops on the line who had been fraternizing with the Germans over Christmas were to be moved back and replaced with fresh companies who had no reason to be reluctant to fire. John Henry didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry.
He and his unit were put to work away from No Man’s Land, being trained in the use of some new weapons which had just arrived. But it was only a temporary measure. When the commanders felt that the men had had time to recover their fighting spirit, they were moved back to the trenches.
John Henry lay awake at nights, in the huts where off-duty units were allowed some shelter, unable to sleep for the pain of his blistered hands (still raw from the recent digging) and tried to read the end of Matthew’s gospel by the light of a candle stump, seeking a little peace. When at last he fell asleep, his dreams were troubled by pictures of the young German, Johan, whom he’d met on Christmas Day.
One particularly bad dream came repeatedly. They were in the middle of a battle. John Henry was charging over the top of the trench, his bayonet at the ready, following his commander. Out of the blue Johan appeared, leaping towards him, bayonet equally ready to thrust out. In his dream, John Henry was horrified, but in spite of his horror before he knew it he had thrust forward and his weapon had pierced Johan’s heart. Blood spurted everywhere, and the young German lay dead at his feet. At that point John Henry woke, his tears flowing freely enough to soak the edge of his blanket. And then he would lie awake, unwilling to sleep again and dream the same desolation over and over.
There had been no attack, no ‘over the top’ charge, as yet, for John Henry and his battalion. But each of them knew as they waited that it must come soon. There was a mixture of dread and excitement building up as each day brought the moment closer when they would be given their battle orders and told that this was it. Then at last there came the day of the first attack.
Just as in his dream, John Henry found himself charging over the top, cutting the barbed wire and sliding under it, then charging on, bayonet at the ready. His companions of so many weeks, the men – or boys – in his own unit, were by his side. The heavy guns thundered and it was hard to see anything ahead. John Henry found himself blundering against someone who was thrusting at him with a matching bayonet and he felt the sudden gash in his left arm followed by a spurt of blood. He thrust back in his turn and found before he had time to realise it his enemy was lying dead at his feet. John Henry gave a sob and charged on.
His ears were bursting with the noise of the cannons and his eyes stung with the gun smoke. He had lost sight of the men around him. Only the groans and shouts told him that his comrades were still there. Or some of them were.
Out of the smoke he saw the tip of a bayonet thrusting towards him. It was too late to avoid it. His own bayonet was ready to thrust back, but he knew without thinking about it that he would be too late. Then suddenly another bayonet, thrusting from the direction of the enemy in front of him, struck the first bayonet and pushed it aside. John Henry looked in disbelief. A German soldier had saved his life. But why?
Dashing the sweat and smoke out of his eyes, he saw, in a moment, the face that had haunted his dreams. Johan.
‘Okay, Johnny?’ came the familiar voice with its German accent. He understood. Johan had recognised him. He had been unable to allow his fellow soldier to kill the man he had met on Christmas Day, the man who had become a friend.
‘Thanks, Johan!’ he gasped out. For a second the two men stood still and smiled at each other as the war went on all around them.
Then John Henry heard the sound of feet charging up behind him, and as he turned to see who it was, Ian Stewart’s face loomed up by his left shoulder and Ian’s voice was shouting, ‘It’s okay, Johnny boy! I’ve got him!’
Then John Henry saw with unbelieving eyes the flash of Stewart’s bayonet across his vision, and heard the shriek as the sharp blade pierced Johan, the young German, straight to his heart. For a moment Johan hung, transfixed, on the bayonet, then he tumbled in a heap at John Henry’s feet. John Henry stumbled down after him, feeling for a pulse, but the blood was spurting out in a fountain and by the time John Henry could feel his neck the pulse was gone. Johan lay there dead.
Ian Stewart pulled out his bayonet and leapt on into the heart of the battle. And a minute later, John Henry followed him.
It was much later that night, when the few survivors were resting uneasily back in the huts, that John Henry had time to think about what had happened. He knew he couldn’t blame Ian Stewart. Really, he knew he should be grateful to Stewart. Stewart had thought he was saving John Henry’s life. But in spite of his rationalising thoughts, John Henry felt a black surge of hatred mounting up within him. He had always found Ian Stewart a difficult person to like, with his black and white judgements and his hypocrisy in action.
Recently John Henry had been managing to overcome this. He and Ian had spent some time together and John Henry had come to understand a little of the dark urges which sometimes took control of Stewart, and of his difficulty in trying to overcome them. He had, he hoped, been of some help to Stewart. Maybe not. He’d tried, certainly. Tried to be understanding, not to judge, to listen rather than give advice. He had learnt some time ago that no one wanted to hear advice. Mostly advice would be ignored. But a listening ear, while someone thrashed things out for themselves and thought about what they needed to do, was another matter. That sometimes helped.
But now, with the vision of Johan’s dead face springing up in his eyes again, of the moment when such surprise had shown on the young German’s face, before Stewart’s bayonet drove into his heart, John Henry felt bitterness overwhelm him. Why couldn’t Stewart have waited to see what was happening?
He knew that was stupid. In battle, waiting was the last thing anyone should do. If John Henry had really been in danger, waiting would have meant that he was dead.
He refocused his anger. It wasn’t Ian Stewart who’d been to blame. It wasn’t himself, either. But couldn’t God have stopped this from happening, arranged things differently? He didn’t know.
Presently he found the release of tears. But it was almost morning before he managed a few unhappy hours of sleep, haunted by dreams and constantly disturbed by terrifying nightmares which jerked him abruptly awake. Then he would turn over and try again to sleep. Without much success.

 

 

Fiona: Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?
Gerry: The hardest part, for me, is making up a plot. Characters always come much more easily.

 

 

Fiona: Who is your favorite author and what is it that really strikes you about their work?
Gerry: Again, I have quite a list. If I’m forced to make a decision, it might easily be PG Wodehouse. His books are so funny, I can read and reread them. But then, I might just as easily say Saki, whose short stories and few novels I absolutely love. They sparkle with wit, and I love the characters he writes about. Or again, C S Lewis or Tolkien. Or Agatha Christie, or… Stop me, Fiona!

 

 

Fiona: Do you have to travel much concerning your book(s)?
Gerry: Not so far – but it would be nice to have that excuse! I’ve written two books in a planned series of thrillers about a Belfast girl called Angeline Murphy, Angel for short. These are Angel in Flight and Angel in Belfast. The next one, Angel in Paradise, is to be set in Corfu. Shouldn’t I go back there soon to check out the details of the setting? Yes, I think I should, definitely!

 

 

Fiona: Who designed the covers?
Gerry: My husband, Raymond McCullough, who is very expert at IT stuff and very creative, designed all of them.

 

 

Fiona: What was the hardest part of writing your book?
Gerry: Keeping going when I got stuck about a third of the way through Johnny McClintock. I had a real attack of writers’ block for the first time.

 

 

Fiona: Did you learn anything from writing your book and what was it?
Gerry: To keep going until the end.

 

 

Fiona: Do you have any advice for other writers?
Gerry: Don’t give up. Don’t let rejection affect you. Try to write something every day, as far as possible. Believe in yourself and your own ability.

 

 

Fiona: Do you have anything specific that you want to say to your readers?
Gerry: I’d just like to thank all of you, my dear readers, for enjoying my work, and especially those of you who have told me so. It’s great to know you are out there reading away! Hope you like the new one!
Fiona: Do you remember the first book you read?
Gerry: Very vaguely. I can’t put a name to it. I was four years old, and I read it aloud to my great aunt, and she rewarded me with sixpence. A great incentive to keep reading.

 

 
Fiona: Other than writing do you have any hobbies?
Gerry: Reading, swimming, going to the theatre, eating, sleeping. As a married woman, anything else I might mention is strictly private!

 

 
Fiona: What TV shows/films do you enjoy watching?
Gerry: Mostly detective series: Sherlock, Midsomer Murders, Luther, the Poirot series, Death in Paradise, and so on.

 

 
Fiona: Favorite foods / Colors/ Music
Gerry: Food – nearly everything! I love Irish stew. Colour – blue. Music – a real mixture. Bob Dylan, Dire Straits, Irish traditional like Clannad, Doris Day.

 

 
Fiona: If you were not a writer what else would you like to have done?
Gerry: I’ve done some acting on an amateur level. I’d have enjoyed doing that, I think.

 

 
Fiona: Do you have a blog/website? If so what is it?
My blog: http://gerrymccullough.blogspot.co.uk/
My website: http://www.gerrymccullough.co.uk/

Thanks for having me here, Fiona – it’s been fun!

Links to my books:

http://smarturl.it/BelfastGirls
http://smarturl.it/DangerDanger
http://smarturl.it/AngelinFlight
http://smarturl.it/AngelinBelfast
http://smarturl.it/Seanachie1
http://smarturl.it/LadyMolly
http://smarturl.it/JohnnyMcClintocksWar