Hello Wild Geese!

I've decided to write this blog to get congratulations - yes, for me - for not only finishing writing my book, but also this week publishing a readable copy of it. I actually published it in August but the print was so small only leprechauns could read it. Now I've improved it and it looks quite nice - just have a look and see on www.HuesBooks.com.

Finishing my project is quite a surprise. Now another has turned up. I expected a lot of flak because I knew it would be controversial. However, spreading the word here and there, I've had loads of comments but not one of them has been critical so far, not even slightly. Unless my faculties aren't working. Some people have even bought my book!

What's it about? Well it's non-fiction, nothing but fact, based on biographies of Yeats and his wife, newspaper reports of the murder of Honor Bright, Garda photos of her corpse and the bullet she was shot with, witness depositions from the trial and Yeats's poetry in the difficult years, 1918 to 1928. And plenty of other books and papers as well.

I started with a tiny newspaper article that my father brought back from Dublin when he went to see the Garda for details of his mother. All that he had then was his birth certificate, which he saw for the first time when he signed up for the British Army in 1942 at the age of twenty-one. It told him that the people he had always thought of as his family weren't. His dead father hadn't been his father, nor his mother his mother, nor his brother his brother. He was a cuckoo in the nest. His real mother had been called Lily or Lizzie O'Neill and had been murdered when he was four years old. At that time she was known by the name of Honor Bright. No father was named. The Garda told him she was a prostitute, so he decided not to find out any more since he had a wife and daughters to look after. He always wanted to write a book later about his parents, but he died before he retired. 

In 2006 I came across a photo of Yeats in Sweden receiving his Nobel Prize in 1923. He looked just like my father. I looked him up online and discovered he'd had severe unspecified "heart problems" at exactly the time my grandmother was murdered. The deeper I looked the more likely it was that I was related to him, and that is what I believe today, though I'm more proud of my 'illegitimate' father. Have a look at my book and let me know what you think. I'm more interested in getting people's thoughts than making a profit, so eBooks and paperbacks are reasonably priced.

Looking forward to hearing from you! 

Patricia