Many times.
And that led me to the accusations of being pro-vigilante, a fascist, a supporter of all kinds of violent organizations.
You live in Galway, as I do, every single day, our latest horror, some thug walks free after raping an old lady, a seventy-nine-year-old nun, and the perp walks free, is given therapy, and in one ludicrous case, sent to Spain for a holiday.
I would love to say this is Irish exaggeration, but even in the past two years, my own personal history, a drunk driver who killed someone dear to my heart walked free because of personal problems.
The old people in Ireland used to say,
“Me blood boils.”
Jesus.
Mine wept… freaking buckets.
So, I put it on Jack.
Let him deal with it.
And he does.
Usually with a hurly.
Jack believes as I do.
“Law is for the courts; justice is administered in alleys.”
Controversial?
Of course.
In a society where there are no longer consequences, a hurly is a good edge.
One of me best friends, a doctor, has fretted for years about my views on so-called justice and the tone of my books.
He was, he said, my friend,
“Despite your, um… odd ideas.”
Three weeks ago, his daughter was very seriously mugged and he came round, not looking for solace, but for my hurly.
When I put Jack out there, I figured maybe three books, and lo and behold, I’m on number seven…
The bastard won’t go away.
Cross, the sixth, went another direction, had to if the series was to stay fresh and challenging.
More of a thriller element than any of the previous. It also showed the dying of the Celtic Tiger. We were plunging into recession after eight years of living it on the hog, and hog is the perfect term. It made us, indeed, greedy at the trough, and suddenly, they were taking it away. The sheen was off the tiger and we were… fook, in maybe financial trouble.
We reacted like any child that you spoil and then take away the toys. We reacted very, very badly.
Still do.
And Jack, no longer shopping in charity shops, might have to return to them.
And,
He’s getting old.
Losing his hearing.
Has the limp.
You ask,
Jesus, how much longer can he go on?
Indeed.
Would the only woman in his life, Ridge… and of course, the only constant female in Jack’s life, who’s gay…
take over the series?
No.
She doesn’t even read that much.
When should a series end?
Simple.
When it’s stale.
When you are no longer all that bothered by what happens to the main character. Jack is way past his sell-by date and if he gets through one more book, no one will be more surprised-or relieved-than me.
I’ve been truly amazed by the response to Jack.
The New York Times said he was as likely to give you a slap in the mouth as give five Euros to a homeless person.
I kind of liked that.
Brian Widenmouth, a fine online reviewer, suggested that Jack was already dead!.. and this was all in look-back. Long as he didn’t think I was dead too.
An Irish reviewer said I must have been a cop… had to be.
And you have to mention the movie.