Lucky number Twelve
Some will reminisce about the ambitious first draft that miraculously made it off the editor’s slush pile; others will cite a chance encounter with a publisher, or an acceptance letter that unexpectedly flopped on top of a stack of rejections. Such watershed moments are part of every author’s career but few, if any, are as remarkable as that of Northern Irish crime writer, Stuart Neville.
“I was working late in my office one night,” says Neville, who runs a successful multimedia company in Markethill, Co Armagh. “I got this email from Nat Sobel. The name was familiar, and, in the email, he mentioned that he was a literary agent and listed some of his clients.
The first name was James Ellory, who’s my favourite writer – then, I knew that this was something special.”
The legendary New York agent, whose other clients include the late FX Toole, Joseph Wambaugh and Pulitzer-winner, Richard Russo, had stumbled across Neville’s short story, The Last Dance, in an online crime fiction publication, Thuglit.com – and wanted to read more.
“I was working on a full-length novel at the time. I sent him off a copy, not expecting anything to come of it. But then he came back, saying he wanted to work with me – and I’ve been thanking my lucky stars ever since,” Neville says.
A year and half later, and Neville is celebrating the release of his debut novel, The Twelve. Set in post-conflict Belfast, it is the story of Gerry Fegan, a former Republican hitman cut adrift in the new Northern Irish political climate.
Fegan is haunted by past misdemeanours, 12 ghosts who plague his waking hours and are driving him to search for vengeance.
His vendetta against the peace process sets him on a collision course with David Campbell, a double agent tasked with preserving the new Stormont, and with his own reasons for wanting the former paramilitary eliminated.
In his late-30s with dark, rugged features and a pugilist’s build, all Stuart Neville needs is a brown mackintosh and trilby to complete the classic crime writer profile. Chatting over tea in a downtown Belfast bookshop, his speech is slow and considered: though when I ask whether Fegan’s demons are an analogy for contemporary Northern Ireland’s unreconciled past, he becomes reticent. “There’s nothing conscious in there, if people see that theme, that’s fine, but there’s no conscious effort being made to comment on Northern Ireland,” he says.
The Twelve takes no particular political line, but Neville says that “the get out of jail free card” that people like Gerry Fegan received after the Good Friday Agreement has caused “a lot of resentment, from all sides.” Neville has turned these contradictions and double standards into a taut, fast-paced, thrilling read that requires no prior knowledge of the North’s fractious history.
That Neville, who cites his main influences as Ellroy and Ted Lewis (Get Carter), ended up writing about the Troubles surprises him. “In all my years of writing, I’d never wanted to write anything about Northern Ireland.
In fact, I’d always steered clear of it, but, then, this short story presented itself,” he says of the tale of a paramilitary killer meeting his past in a Boston bar that became The Last Dance and, later, the Twelve’s opening chapter.
“Personally, I’ve always been a bit reluctant to pick up anything from the North. It tends to be very dour and not great in terms of entertainment value.” Many of the Twelve’s test audience had similar reservations. “We got reader’s comments back, saying things like ‘I saw it was about Northern Ireland and I was unsure, but then I got drawn in.’ I really hope people can get past that prejudice,” he says.
The novel’s original title, Ghosts of Belfast, was dropped for the UK and Irish (though not the US) release, on account of what Neville describes as “an antipathy towards fiction coming from the North, especially anything with a hint of the Troubles.”
Decades of fatuous Hollywood IRA flicks may have given audiences Troubles fatigue, but in the last year both Hunger and Fifty Dead Men Walking have garnered critical and box office acclaim, while Brian McGilloway’s Devlin detective series, and literary offerings from Glenn Patterson and others, have dealt with Northern Ireland. Does Neville see himself as a Troubles writer?
“To be honest, I’d like to think I could step outside Belfast and that world, if I wanted to... it’s been interesting to explore it (the Troubles), but I’d hate to ever feel bound by it in any way,” he says.
As well as overcoming his aversion to writing about his home, Neville’s had to adapt to the daily grind of life as full-time author – not easy after 10 years as a web designer. “When you’re writing under contract, it is much more difficult to write freely. Especially when you know someone important like Nat Sobel is going to read it,” he says.
Writing to a deadline is a skill he’s had to pick up quickly. “It’s always a rush, often I’m left feeling like a kid at school doing revision the night before an exam.” If he ever needs study buddies, Neville knows where to go.
“The crime writing community in Ireland is great, really strong and supportive. People like John Connolly have blazed a trail, but they certainly didn’t pull the ladder up after them.” His big break may have been unusual, but now, with t Sobel in tow, Stuart Neville is set to follow a more predictable literary trope – the successful Irish crime writer.