As mentioned in a previous blog, I recently purchased an apartment in Dublin. My new home is in Mountjoy Square, an area steeped in history and associated with a number of famous writers such as James Joyce, Sean O’Casey and WB Yeats. Lawyers, churchmen and politicians have also lived in the square in the past—and Joseph Napier, appointed Attorney General for Ireland in 1852, lived at my exact address—one of a number of Georgian buildings that have been redeveloped as apartments in recent years.

Arthur Guinness spent his later years in Mountjoy Square until his death in 1803. Dáil Éireann held meetings in the Mountjoy Square home of the republican Walter L Cole prior to the foundation of the Irish Free State. And most recently, the critically acclaimed movie Once was filmed in an apartment on the Square.

And it is in Mountjoy Square where I hope to continue my writing after a four-month break due to the stresses and trials thrown up by moving house. Although this is my first venture onto the property ladder, it reminds me of an episode from my life some time ago (as featured in Lord of the Rams).

I was about to start second year in college and had made the long two-bus journey from Cavan to Waterford to view prospective accommodation. Goosey, my flatmate from First Year and long-time friend, had stated clearly that I could get any place of my choosing so long as it was not Flat 4A—the infamous hovel we called ‘home’ the previous year …

Exclusive Extract from Lord of the Rams: The Greatest Story Never Told
Arriving in Waterford, the Rams had a little less than two hours to find a home. With the internet still in its infancy, the only way he could hope to spot anywhere remotely suitable would be by combing through the morning’s newspapers. Unfortunately, a few phone calls confirmed that most decent dwellings had been snapped up a few hours prior to his late-afternoon arrival in the city. At last, however, he happened upon an advertisement for a three-bedroom house, centrally located and within a few hundred yards from the phone box where he was standing.

‘This looks promising,’ he thought, dialling the number included with the advert. A gentleman, who identified himself as an auctioneer named Joe, agreed to immediately meet the Rams on a city centre street.

Ten minutes passed by and the Rams was still waiting patiently for Joe to arrive. For the majority of that time a suited businessman had been leaning against a railing a few feet away, occasionally glancing over in Rams’s direction. Realising that time was against him, the Rams called out to the stranger, the returned greeting leaving him in no doubt that he was now speaking to the auctioneer. Joe seemed almost surprised that Rams was the same person he had conversed with over the phone, but the confused expression quickly gave way to one of cheer, and he spoke amicably with the Rams as the pair walked the short distance to a house around which Joe provided Rams with a grand tour before sitting down to talk business.

The house was nothing special, but it goes without saying that it was a definite improvement on Flat 4A. It had three reasonably sized bedrooms and its location was quite close to the part of the city the Rams was most accustomed to. Having asked the usual pre-rental questions regarding bills and utilities, Rams put the million-dollar question to the auctioneer.

‘So how much is this place per month?’ he asked.

‘It works out at 32 pounds each per week,’ replied Joe, alluding to Rams’s earlier comment that he would be moving two other people in with him. The rent was a little higher than Rams had hoped for but, with only 20 minutes remaining until the bus for Dublin departed, this was not the time to be playing hardball.

‘Well, I’d be fairly interested in taking the place. How much of a deposit are you looking for?’

‘Five percent of the value of the house and, once I receive that, I can hold the place if you’re waiting for your mortgage to be processed.’

‘What was that?’ gasped the Rams, scarcely comprehending what he was hearing and almost needing to hear it repeated lest his ears were deceiving him. ‘You said something about a mortgage there. Is this place not for renting?’ he asked.

‘Of course not,’ Joe replied, looking slightly peeved upon realising that he had wasted valuable time showboating the house to the poorest student in Ireland. ‘I was thinking you were a bit young to be buying the place,’ he added, before quickly showing Rams the door.

With mere moments remaining until the call of Cavan beckoned, Rams sprinted to a nearby phone box and dialled Mickey Rooney’s mobile number. It was the last thing he wanted to do but, given the circumstances, he didn’t see himself as having much of a choice.

Mickey’s phone rang for several seconds before an unmistakable gruff voice could be heard at the other end of the line. Rams rushed through the necessary small talk before asking if Mr. Conway had any properties other than Flat 4A available for renting at that time. Apparently Conway had a nice vacant town house, which would be perfect for the lads. But since Mickey was attending a horse racing event in Tramore that day and Rams was rushing back to Cavan, it was agreed that Rams would ring Mickey the following day to continue the conversation and perhaps—at least in Rams’s mind—provisionally agree to rent the property.

Unfortunately, the resultant telephone call squashed any hopes Rams had of living in anything other than squalor for the college year. Mickey, changing his story from the previous day, stated that the house was undergoing refurbishment and wouldn’t be ready before Christmas. All was not lost, however, because another property was available for renting immediately and at a fair price.

‘Goosey, how’s it going?’ yelled the Rams into the telephone receiver.

‘Not too bad. How did ya get on in Waterford?’

‘I have good news and I have bad news.’

‘What do you mean, Rams?’ asked Goosey, sounding slightly concerned.

‘The good news is that I found us a place to live in for the year.’

‘Nice one; for a minute there I thought you were going to say you got nothing.’

‘Well, the bad news is that it’s Flat 4A.’

And with that, the phone went dead.

Did you like this story? Maybe you’ll enjoy Lord of the Rams, featuring anecdotes and misadventures from my student apartment in Waterford in the late nineties. Purchase Lord of the Rams: The Greatest Story Never Told (with free worldwide post and packaging).

8 years. It’s a significant percentage of anyone’s life. And it’s a very long time to spend living in the same rented apartment.

It seems like only yesterday that I moved into an apartment in Christchurch, Dublin. I had been living in a cramped two-bedroom apartment nearby for two and a half years, but the time had come to move on.  The move to Christchurch turned out to be a great one.

A month after I moved in, the lease-holder of the apartment bought a place and moved out. I was delighted—he had very little to say for himself and was one of those rare people I knew I would never get on with. That left me and Ed, a Dubliner who had been living there for a few years, on the look-out for a new tenant for the large double room. A Roscommon man,  a fellow Ronan, eventually moved in, and it wasn’t long before we began partying it up at Christchurch.

Ed moved to Boston to get married around May 2003, and all manner of people moved in, and moved on again, over the years—Leanne, Ian, Mark, Denise, Deborah, Kara, Julianne, Anke and Karen. Nicole and Danusia also lived there on and off at various stages. And Mark held the distinctive record of actually living in the apartment twice (following a year in between stays working in London). Ronan stayed at Christchurch for 5 1/2 years before eventually moving on, only to be replaced by Andrzej who stayed for over two years.

Dublin (and indeed Ireland) has, in some ways, gone from hero to zero in the past two years. And this has certainly been reflected in the rental market. Finding long-term tenants has become very difficult (the last four tenants were all visiting Dublin for just a just a matter of months) and so I recently decided to move out of the apartment along with my other housemates Andrzej (moving back to Poland) and Karen (going travelling).

I am currently in the process of purchasing an apartment and am hoping to move into it soon.

I left Christchurch with some happy memories and funny stories from my time there. And I’ll sign off today with just one recent story that remains fresh in my memory …

………………… Memories from Christchurch View …………………

It was April 2009. An Irish guy had arranged to view the spare room after Deborah had moved out. The rental market, however, had changed dramatically in the preceding few months. Where once 50 people might reply to a room advert on Daft.ie, now this number was closer to four or five. So I was delighted that John Joe (not his real name) was Irish—not because I’m anti-foreigners (far from it) but because I presumed he would be around for the long haul.

Anyway, John Joe shows up. And he’s fat—morbidly obese in fact. I’d say he’s about 25 stones (or 350 pounds). That’s fine; no big deal but I do start thinking that I might have to hide my Weetabix from this guy if he moves in. But I have no intention of moving him in. Why?

Well for a start, John Joe has brought his sister with him. She’s a rough diamond—looks like she could cut a man’s balls off just by looking at him. At first I think she’s John Joe’s mother—she’s got to be in her mid-sixties, but I suspect a diet of cigarettes and alcohol may have played their part in the ageing process. But John Joe is no spring chicken either. I reckon he’s nigh on 40. In truth, he seems a nice enough guy. He’s quiet, but then again he’s not getting much of a chance to put his views across since his sister is doing all the talking.

Maybe I’m assuming too much at this stage but I get the feeling that John Joe has lived in the nearby family home (or with his sister) for most of his life. And now the sister is forcing him out into the big bad world to fend for himself. Shame she didn’t do it sooner. John Joe moving out at 40 and viewing apartments with his dangerous looking sister doesn’t help ingratiate him as a prospective housemate with me.

Anyway, after showing John Joe and his sister around the living room, kitchen and bathroom, and making the same lame joke I always do about our two fridges (“One for food and one for beer”  Boom Boom!), I invite them to follow me up the spiral staircase to view the bedroom.

I steal a quick glance at John Joe’s massive frame and think: “There’s no way this guy is getting up these stairs.”

So the sister bounds up the stairs along with myself, and we enter the room. It soon becomes apparent, as I envisaged, that John Joe is having difficulties.

I keep the sister talking, or she keeps me talking—I’m not quite sure which. She is very interested in the room and apartment (Who’s moving in here? Her or John Joe? I’m beginning to wonder!).

“I can pay ya a deposit right here today,” she says, and I’m almost too scared to tell her that other people will be viewing the room and I would move a monkey in before living with her over-pampered, can’t even get up the stairs brother.

John Joe eventually makes it into the room after about a minute or so. He’s sweating profusely and I’m wondering what the legal implications might be if he drops dead in the apartment.

The sister at last asks him his opinion on the room, barely waits for his response and then tells me that, “We’re very interested in taking the room.”

Off she goes down the stairs, and John Joe follows. I’m hoping that gravity might help him with his return journey, but things don’t turn out that way. As John Joe rounds the first bend, he becomes stuck in the stairway. He looks to be well and truly wedged. I don’t know where to look (I’m standing upstairs just beside the top of the staircase) so I try to encourage him and make him feel better by telling him that it took me three or four months to get the hang of walking up and down the staircase.

After a good two or three minutes, John Joe manages to free himself and somehow gets to the bottom of the staircase without bringing it crashing to the floor.

The sister takes one look at her visibly tired and mentally traumatised brother, and she shouts up the stairs at me.

“It’s no good. He’s too big. He’ll never get up and down them stairs.”

And with that, she opens the door and drags her embarrassed brother out with her.

Did you like this story? Maybe you’ll enjoy Lord of the Rams,  featuring anecdotes and misadventures from my student apartment in Waterford in the late nineties. Purchase Lord of the Rams: The Greatest Story Never Told (with free worldwide post and packaging).

I’m off to Vegas tomorrow for a five-day trip, so I thought this might be a good time to share a short story from my first time in Sin City back in 2005. This is a draft excerpt from Lord of the Rams 2: A Tale of Four Continents (so it may undergo significant editing before publication). Coincidentally, all of the main characters in this extract will be joining me in Vegas this weekend. Who knows, maybe a new chapter will be written. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this wee story, which I think provides a small glimpse into some of the excesses associated with Vegas. Feel free to post your comments below.

…………………Draft excerpt from Lord of the Rams 2: A Tale of Four Continents…………………

Situated on the Las Vegas Strip, The Venetian Resort Hotel Casino was the largest AAA Five-Diamond resort in America. It boasted over 4,000 suites at an average size of 700 square feet; a 120,000 square feet casino; several large nightclubs and restaurants; a Madame Tussaud’s museum; and the 1,760-seat Blue Man Theatre, which played host to the world-famous Blue Man Group. Add in one gigantic shopping mall and canals on which one could avail of gondola rides, and it’s easy to see why The Venetian stood out in a city brimming with stand-out resorts.

The hotels in Vegas were designed so that one must pass through the wallet-emptying casinos en route to one’s room. And The Venetian was no exception. After successfully navigating the gauntlet with their wallets intact, the lads reached their twin suites, which impressed mainly due to their sheer size and the abundance of couches and chairs that helped make up the decor.

One hour later they were seated in one of the resort’s many restaurants. Rams had set a personal target of eating as many steaks as possible on the trip, so he was particularly looking forward to a good fillet of beef following the so-so meal in LA the previous evening. A well-dressed gentleman showed the lads to their table before introducing them to their waiter. This certainly wasn’t one of those restaurants where the man who greets you at the door also waits the tables, slaughters the cows out the back, cooks the food and washes the dishes. After ordering a beer each, the lads skipped straight to the mains.

A ravenous Rams ordered his usual—fillet steak, French fries and a side-order of fried onions. The waiter, just like his international counterpart in Ljubljana earlier that year, didn’t seem too sure about the onions part of the order, but he eventually nodded, gathered the menus and scuttled off in the direction of the kitchen.

Within half an hour the waiter returned to the table. Courteous almost to a fault, he circled the lads, presenting Goosey, Dowd and Hartley with their meals before placing a large plate in front of the Rams.

‘Where are my chips?’ thought the Rams, and then he realised there was a bigger problem at hand. The chips arrived a moment later as a side-dish but there, nestled on the dinner plate beside a succulent eight-ounce fillet, was a huge mother fucker of a lobster.

Rams stared aghast at the arthropod, silently wondering if ‘onions’ meant something else in Vegas. Goosey, sitting across from the Rams, was quick to quiz the waiter.

‘He didn’t order the lobster. What’s the story with that?’

Rams nodded in agreement, but the waiter simply shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘It’s all included,’ before disappearing almost in a puff of smoke.

‘Ah sure lobsters must be ten a penny over here,’ remarked Hartley as the lads began tucking into their first shared meal of the holiday.

Rams, ever the pervicacious diner, shovelled the sea creature onto Dowd’s waiting plate. The shameless one was beaming and licking his lips at the prospect of eating two meals for the price of one. And the gastronome was still polishing off the lobster when Hartley called for the bill.

‘Ah for fuck sake,’ bellowed the Rams upon picking up the bill. ‘Just over 360 dollars. Are these guys for real? Sure we only had two beers each and a main course.’

Unsurprisingly, Rams’s ‘all included’ steak-lobster combo had come in at over 80 dollars.

‘And I didn’t even eat the lobster,’ complained the Rams, but the tiny claw remnants protruding at that moment from Dowd’s cave-like mouth suggested that the lads would have little grounds on which to make a complaint. Dowd had done an admirable job of devouring the evidence, but at least he wouldn’t have to eat again for a few hours.

—END—

Purchase Lord of the Rams: The Greatest Story Never Told (with free worldwide postage and packaging)

Writing a book, even a comedy memoir such as Lord of the Rams, requires a certain amount of research—especially when you’re relying on memories from 20-odd years ago. Research can simply involve talking to family members and friends to confirm your recollections, or it can involve looking through books or websites to confirm facts and figures.

Of course research can be a fascinating hobby in its own right:

A work colleague recently sent me a link to the National Archives’ Census of Ireland 1911 (http://www.census.nationalarchives.ie/) website. And once I began looking up my ancestors, I was hooked.

This amazing digitisation of the Census results from 1911 provides information such as name, age, sex, relationship to head of the household, religion, occupation, marital status, and county or country of birth.

Despite the fact that only one of my four grandparents were alive in 1911 (and only one survives today), I was able to track down the Census information for all of their immediate families.

Tracking down my grandfather Smith’s ancestors was especially fun. My grandfather, John Smith, was born in 1912—one year after the Census took place. However, his father’s name was also John. But that didn’t make my search any easier. Anyone with a passing knowledge of Cavan will know that Smith is one of the most common names in the county to this day—and few names more popular it would seem than John Smith. In fact, the census site records 250 John Smiths in Cavan in 1911.

Fortunately, after asking my father a few questions, I was able to narrow down my search by townland and I eventually identified my grandfather’s family for certain by the names of his brothers and sisters (thanks again to my father’s vague but useful memories). And in an eerie twist, my great-grandfather’s handwriting on the Census form was almost identical to my father’s—the resemblance was uncanny.

The Census site also provides other fascinating information on land/buildings owned by a family and the number of children born alive vs. the number still living. It’s an amazing insight into life in Ireland almost 100 years ago. The 1901 Census information will be released in due course. In the meantime, start digging up the past from 1911 at http://www.census.nationalarchives.ie/.

To celebrate the 1st year anniversary of the release of Lord of the Rams, here’s two big dates for your diary if you’re in Meath or Cavan over the next few weeks and still haven’t picked up a copy of Lord of the Rams.

As mentioned in the recent Cavan Post article, I will be selling and signing copies of my book at Le Chéile on Sunday 2 August and The Virginia Show on Wednesday 19 August.

Le Chéile is an arts and music festival, which has been taking place in Oldcastle, Co. Meath for over a decade. Past music acts include The Blizzards, The Frames and The Undertones, with renowned comedians such as Des Bishop, Barry Murphy and Neil Delamere providing the laughs.

This year’s line-up is no less exciting with Lisa Hannigan, Delorentes, Mundy, and funny man Jason Byrne amongst the strong line-up over the course of the 4-day festival. For more information, see www.lecheile.com. And keep an eye out for me at the event on Sunday afternoon 2 August – drop by and pick up a copy of my book.

With a 68-year history, The Virginia Show is one of the longest running and largest agricultural shows in Ireland, with over 20,000 attendees in 2009. I will be selling copies of Lord of the Rams in Virginia on the day – so there’s no excuse for not buying a copy if you’re at the show!

Check the Lord of the Rams website in a few weeks for photos from the events.

Well it’s hard to believe it but this website and blog went live one year ago this week. It’s been an interesting 12 months to say the least.

Marketing and selling Lord of the Rams has proven to be a tougher job than I imagined when I launched the site, but the past year has served as an invaluable learning experience, which will no doubt stand to me in the future.

Whilst reviews of Lord of the Rams have been largely favourable, ultimately it’s the opinion of the readers—the people who spend their hard-earned money on the book—that count.

Today, I’m going to share some of the comments I’ve received from readers over the past year. It’s always nice to receive positive feedback and, whilst I have no doubt that there are those who didn’t like the book, such individuals have thus far chosen to be silent for the most part.

Some Feedback from Readers of Lord of the Rams:

“I am getting strange looks on the Tube as I’m pissing myself laughing.”

“This is the first book I have read from front cover to back, I think it should be part of the leaving cert novels. Well done, very good and enjoyable to read.”

“I loved your book. Very funny.”

“My mate from Cavan read your book – he said it was very clever and that you might be a bit mad!”

“You have a storytelling talent.”

“Had to actually pretend to have a coughing fit on the Dart to hide my laughing at your book.”

“It’s really good, very funny and very enjoyable … kinda similar to some of Roddy Doyle’s stuff … It’s well written, very easy to visualise and very entertaining.”

Keep the comments coming – good or bad!

By the way, Lord of the Rams will be on sale at two large outdoor events in Meath and Cavan  later in the Summer – more info to follow in a future blog!

Lord of the Rams can be purchased via Amazon, Play and most online book retailers.

March was a quiet month on the Lord of the Rams front after a relatively busy February in the UK during which a review of the book appeared in The Irish Post and an interview featured in The Irish World.

During April, Lord of the Rams will again be making its presence felt in the UK – this time at the London Book Fair. I don’t know too much about book fairs if truth be known – I’ve never attended one, but such events present another opportunity to market the book – albeit an expensive option, which may or may not prove worthwhile. Time will tell, I guess!

The London Book Fair is the second largest venue, after Frankfurt, for international rights trading, including translation rights, digital rights, and television and film rights. With over 25,000 members of the global publishing community all together under one roof for three days (20-22 April 2009), it certainly won’t do any harm to have the book at the event in some capacity. Let’s just hope someone spots it amongst the myriad of other books vying for attention at the event.

Given my other work commitments, I won’t be at the event in person. However, Lord of the Rams will be one of a number of books displayed by Trafford at the book fair (as part of the “New Title Showcase” exhibit).

So if you’re in London during the event, please do drop in – and tell them the Rams sent you!!

It’s something of a cliché that many of us have heard in the past:

An author is sitting on a bus about to embark on another exciting journey.  The vehicle is filling up and, as the author looks around, he spots someone reading a book – it looks somewhat familiar; in fact it’s one of the author’s books.

Low and behold, the same thing happened to me last week. Okay, so the chances of someone reading my book on a bus going from Dublin to Cavan might be a lot higher than if I was catching a one-way flight to Zaire … but it was still pretty cool.

People were still taking their places on the bus as I reached into my bag for my copy of The Shadow of the Wind – a book I had started reading the previous evening and which, so far, is one of the most gripping and enchanting stories I’ve ever read. Of course, given that thousands of people worldwide  have already read it and can back me up on same, that’s hardly breaking news.

Anyway, as I cast my eye around my immediate surroundings, I spotted a girl, two rows up and across the aisle, holding a copy of the one and only Lord of the Rams. It appeared that she had just begun reading it or, at best, was a few pages into it.

Unfortunately, someone choose to sit beside the girl – thus impeding my view and any chance I might have had of assessing whether she was enjoying the book.

Over the course of the next two hours, I couldn’t help myself from continuously looking over at the girl to see how she was progressing through the book. Although I could no longer see her face, I could see the book in her hands and could therefore see that she was making good headway. I felt like some sort of voyeur but, in true voyeur fashion, found it hard to resist sneaking a peak several times throughout the duration of the journey.

By the time the lady in question disembarked from the bus, she had read a sizable chunk of my book and I was still none the wiser as to what she thought of it. Perhaps next time something like this happens, I’ll introduce myself.

Happy New Year.

It’s that time of the year when many people make resolutions for the year ahead – often breaking them by the second week of January despite their best intentions.

One resolution I made last year was to read more – namely a book per month. Considering that some people get through a book or more a week, my target wasn’t exactly going to break any world records, but it was realistic given my other interests and the amount of spare time I generally have at my disposal.

When I began writing Lord of the Rams, I was at a stage in my life where I read very little – the odd book every so often and that was about it. Although reading had been one of my main hobbies when I was growing up (and from which I learned an immeasurable amount unbeknownst to myself at the time), it had taken a back seat during my teens and early twenties.

Fortunately, I’ve rediscovered my old hobby over the past few years. Not only does reading help improve one’s writing and vocabulary, but it also serves to inspire, educate and entertain like few other media can.

One of the main reasons I wrote Lord of the Rams was because I wanted to write a book that I would like to read  – something that would perhaps appeal to the casual reader. I know a few people who have never read a book cover-to-cover but they read Lord of the Rams in record time. Sure, most of those people are friends who had a vested interest in the book. But others are people I barely know – friends/relations of my friends/acquaintances – some of whom have reported back similar experiences. As an author, that’s exactly the kind of feedback you want to hear.

But most of us need to broaden our horizons.The casual reader will generally only ever buy a book if they know the author or if the book has received massive publicity (think The Da Vinci Code). But the fact is that there are countless numbers of books on the market that will appeal to even the most pernickety of readers. Although my tastes aren’t particularly varied, I read crime fiction, general fiction, and autobiographical books amongst others during the past year – all of which entertained in different ways.

And yes I kept last year’s resolution – I managed to get through 13 books in 2008. And my book shelf is already stacked for 2009. In fact I’m already half-way through Matt Dunn’s book Best Man with varied offerings such as The Woods (by Harlen Coben), The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas (by John Boyne), Slash (by, would you Adam and Eve it, Slash), and The Deportees (by Roddy Doyle) all lined up.

So get to your local book shop and try to read more in 2009. It’s a resolution you might just keep!

With just over three weeks until Christmas day, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank everybody who supported me during 2008 – all of those who attended one or both of my book launches, those who purchased the book, those who spread the word about it, and those who offered words of encouragement and praise for my first endeavour into the literary world.

Thanks also to those in the press who took the time to read my book and review it fairly and honestly despite the fact that I didn’t have the backing of a big publishing house behind me. I get a feeling that there are plenty of journalists who would rather review the latest offerings of an established author or celebrity than take a chance by reviewing the works of a first-time author who is attempting to bring something new to the market. It’s unfortunate but that seems to be the way it is. To those who did support me by way of article, review or interview, I appreciate the publicity and your efforts.

And finally, thanks to the shop owners/managers who stocked the book and have been a pleasure to deal with – especially Oliver O’Dwyer in Munterconnaught and the McEvoy family in Virginia – who have been extremely helpful, generous and supportive. And thanks to my family who, more than anyone, have been incredibly supportive over the past six months.

The release of Lord of the Rams has been an expensive, time-consuming project. There have been some minor disappointments along the way, but ultimately it has been a very rewarding and educational experience, and I have few regrets. And I look forward to whatever 2009 may bring.

For those of you on the look out for a great Christmas present for yourself/friends/family, you can purchase a copy of Lord of the Rams online at http://www.lordoftherams.com/buythebook.htm. Or order if directly from your local book shop.

To get you in the mood for the Christmas season, I’ve posted a short festive extract from the book at http://www.lordoftherams.com/extract4.htm.

And if you’ve already read the book, please take the time to post a review, good or bad, on Amazon.co.uk or one of the other major book websites. It can be your new year resolution

To sum up, I’d like to wish you all a Happy Christmas and an odjous new year.

Ronan