Heroes

Heroes is what we are, we cyclists. That’s what they call folk who save lives. And we save lives everyday.

Sometimes it’s the child who’s toddling along a street too far from their parents to be taken into arms should a car or a bike come round the corner, whose parents panic and send the kid wobbling in random directions. Often it’s a kid of ten or so who wanders into the bike lane without looking. It’s also not uncommon for an octogenarian to do the same.

The zombies staring at their mobiles as they shuffle along aren’t probably really alive, but we save them nonetheless, sometimes just standing on our pedals until they eventually become aware of the proximity of living flesh and look up at us with their hollow eyes, then take a step back in shock allowing us pass on our merry way.

But mostly, we save our own lives. Every single day, when we cross a street and see a car coming whose driver has no idea we’re about to arrive at the asphalt and we prudently pull up to let them pass, because they weren’t going to let us pass. We might get an apologetic wave when they realise their mistake. More often it’s a thank you, because we’ve let them pass as if we’d any other choice. 

If we’re with a child, we’ve got to cycle alongside, instructing them to slow and stop, and sometimes having to reach out and hold them back so they don’t keep going out onto the street to their deaths. It’s sometimes line of sight, with cars too big nowadays, and their drivers often elderly and getting smaller all the time so they struggle to see a small bike and rider right in front of them. 

On the other hand, even though they see us, they’ll accelerate to get to the crossing before we’re actually in front, so we’d only hit their side panels should we continue at our current speed. 

The simple fact is that cars are killing machines driven by many inept to be in charge of such metal monstrosities, and every day they would kill us, regardless of any logical or ethical right we have and their responsibility to yield to us as weaker road users, except we keep ourselves alive. 

And we deserve medals, one and all.

Little Victories

Well, this is a little victory in itself.

This book took a long time to get here.

I had the idea way back when I published The Soul of Adam Short, thinking about a YA novel set in Ireland, and the part of Ireland I know best is obviously South County Dublin and North Wicklow.

The problem of fires and farmers and the protection of nesting birds was something that started back then, and of course has kept going years later….

It merged with an idea I had when I was around 17….

The characters came separately, from a different inspiration.

It took a while to get the pen to paper, but my first typed document has a date of June 2015.

Then the first draft was done in 2018.

Yes. I can be 3 years on a book that’s only around 60k words!

I gave a copy of the third or fourth draft to my family – the younger ones – asking for feedback.

Crickets.

For a couple of years.

I got on with writing my long novel, Paul and the Pyramid Builders.

Then I asked my ex-publisher of Adam Short to have a look at it, and see if it was for the drawer.

She says it’s not.

So here it is. Edited and proof-read and ready for reviews.

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Here’s the blurb….

Nicky and her two new friends, Mark and Ash, spend spring racing their mountain bikes through south Dublin – both down hillsides and hitching rides from HGVs – and exploring their feelings towards one another. They’re aghast to one day find an illegal fire on the mountain, just set by a farmer. When the police say they can do nothing about it, the three determine to catch the culprit red-handed. But life is as complicated as love, and as Nicky comes to terms with this, she discovers that sometimes you have to accept whatever little victories come your way.

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It’s dedicated to my good friend Phil, no longer with us, who was a great man for the biking round south Dublin and Wicklow, though more on a road bike than mountain bike.

It’s on Pre Order now, and will be published before my birthday – Paddy’s Day to be exact.

March is when this novel kicks off, when the fires that beleaguer the Dublin and Wicklow mountains should be stopped rather than started.

Anyone who’s interested in a review copy can email me at davidjmobrienauthor@gmail.com

Happy St. David’s Day, everyone.

Don’t forget, if you see a brush fire in Ireland from today, it’s illegal.

New Year’s Resolution?

I’m sure some of you have made resolutions. Many of you might have decided that it’s pointless. But for anyone wondering what you could do to improve your life, just decide to get out of the city more often – once a week if you can. I guarantee you’ll feel great!

Walk on the poppy side of the line, of course!

 

Sleepless in Fields

 

Zipping round town, ticking off lists, picking up kids,

Checking inboxes, replying to inquiries, meetings and

Meeting deadlines leads to lying down dead Friday night

Rather than revelling in the darkness inside or out.

 

Yet, rising in the wee hours, Saturday, in the woods

Ere dawn, a weekend in fields breathing walking, stalking,

Hiking, biking, till Sunday last light leaves us feeling more

Energetic Monday morning than the longest lie in let.