Eimear Ryan: if there’s a version of me in an alternate timeline, I hope she’s in Brooklyn

Sat, 26 Dec, 2020 - 08:00

I grew up in north Tipp, the youngest of three. My parents, Seamus and Ber, are former teachers and have always been very interested and involved in the GAA. My siblings Conor and Eileen and I grew up playing hurling and camogie, and we still play at club level even though we’re all on the far side of thirty at this stage.

I was also really lucky as a kid that there were always books around the house. My parents are big readers and I developed a ferocious reading habit almost without thinking about it.

I went to Carraroe on a family holiday when I was very small, two or three, and became fascinated with a laundromat there. I’d never seen anything like it. Apparently, my favourite thing to do that week was ‘go see washing machine’. I have a very vivid memory of watching the drum of this huge washing machine rotating and being almost hypnotised by it. But memory is a tricky thing and I sometimes wonder if I only remember this because I’ve been told the story so many times.

I definitely don’t believe in predestination. I think we all contain multitudes and there are many versions of ourselves that we could be. The things that happen to us, and the decisions we make, help refine who we become. But I always think it’s one of life’s tragedies that you can’t explore every avenue.

I went to New York after college to try and make it in publishing. I lived in Bushwick and had a couple of great internships in Conjunctions literary journal and Grove/Atlantic while also working in an Irish bar (classic). I was never able to secure a job in publishing or get sponsored, so I ended up coming home after a year when my visa expired. I was so energised and inspired by New York, the way pretty much everyone is, and also felt very much at home there. If there’s a version of me in an alternate timeline, I hope she’s in Brooklyn.

I co-founded Banshee Press in 2014 with my friends Laura Cassidy and Claire Hennessy. We’re all writers and, having received great support and encouragement from editors in our own careers, wanted to pay it forward and provide a platform for emerging writers.

We publish a literary journal, Banshee, twice a year, and have recently started publishing books: a short story collection called Paris Syndrome by Lucy Sweeney Byrne, and a poetry collection, Gold Light Shining, by Bebe Ashley. It’s a labour of love but I really enjoy reading and editing submissions, and it’s so thrilling to be able to find and promote new talent.

I’m very determined and driven, which has helped me massively in life, but there’s also a dark side to it – you can have tunnel vision, be impatient, run roughshod over people.

There’s also the danger that you’ll never quite be satisfied with what you have – that you’ll start to view life as an endless succession of hurdles. I’ve been consciously trying to enjoy the moment more lately, instead of automatically thinking ‘what’s the next thing?’

It took me a long time to write my first novel, Holding Her Breath. It’s about inheritance, complicated love, family secrets, the body and poetry. I wrote the initial notes for it in 2013 and it will be published in 2021, eight years later. It’s not even a long book! It has gone through four or five very different drafts, and evolved and grown with me.

I don't think there's an ideal timeframe for writing a book. It will get done in whatever time you can eke out alongside other commitments – work, family, study, sports, etc. It takes as long as it takes.

I interviewed the writer Kevin Barry when I was a student and he said something about ‘rotating the crops’ that always stuck with me. He meant don’t limit yourself as a writer to any one idea or any one mode of writing – try everything, always have a couple of projects on the go. When you’re stuck on one project, you can switch to another. Also, taking yourself out of your comfort zone and trying something new ends up benefiting your practice as a whole.

My partner Cal is one of the wisest and kindest people I know. I tend to talk out problems rather than brood on them, and he’s a good listener. He’s also a brilliant writer and editor, so I have him read everything I write before anyone else sees it, and he always has invaluable feedback.

My friendship with my parents has been one of the nicest things about adulthood for me, and I often turn to them if something’s bothering me. They’re supportive but they always ask the right questions, too.

What scares me? I’m really comfortable with expressing myself in the written word, but I get anxious before events or even meetings where I know I’ll have to talk a lot. There’s a vulnerability in speaking off the cuff, in performing yourself publicly, that I find a bit scary. I hope I’ll get better at that.