Author Interview with Aoife Brennan

We know that, but to lose the stuff you have is not so easy, especially when it is not done on a voluntary basis. I wouldn’t have minded if I had chosen to give away my worldly goods, shave a tonsure on my head, don a hairsuit and walk the pavements. If I had chosen? I mean, if I had chosen then I would have felt sanctimonious, cool and really, really special. I think I might have even walked on water!

Freedom definitely comes from giving away your stuff and relying on your core. But what if you didn’t choose to give it away and it is taken anyway? Is that called being robbed, mugged or just recessed (as in recession)?

So when I lost all my possessions, one by one, then the rest in a great big flood of things, I stood in the receding wake like a tsunami victim. Waving not drowning, yet I was drowning in the loss. I thought my world had come to an end. A commercial end – and me with it.

But I learnt two very important things after my own personal tsunami-letting of goods. The first is that hings are not important. I knew that before. I was never very ‘brand’ focused before, preferring shoddy to chic. Shabby-chic I called it. My ex called it cheap as chips – that is just one of the reasons he is my ex. But going from not being particularly bothered about things to not having them at all is a pretty emotional experience.

I minded less the loss than the fact that my two children were unprotected and vulnerable. Losing for me was tough, but I felt losing for them was devastating. Not that they complained but I felt such the inadequate parent. They never moaned or asked for things out of the ordinary, and indeed often spent their own birthday money on necessities such was their acceptance of our combined financial stress.

I’d like to say at this point it was cathartic, but I can’t. I did not choose to lose my worldly goods, such as they were, and I did not feel the better for their loss. Quite the opposite. Guilt was strapped onto me tight as a backpack. I fretted over shoes for the children, tickets for outings, monthly shopping bills. I agonised over meeting friends over wine, but I still did it, and agonised all the more afterwards. What?

You bad mother you, that bottle of wine would have bought face wipes, stewing meat, insert whatever six euro substitute you can find. Someone may have said once that life is too short to drink bad wine. I’d answer and say you drink to your price range and now, yes, I was cheap as chips.

Knowing that things were not important allowed me to let go of the big things in my life, my home, my life savings, my security. But knowing I had children meant I had guilt every step of the way. I thought, frequently, if I were sick or they needed an operation, what would happen. Or even if they wanted something frivolous, what would happen. Oh, how easily your expectations are cut short and curtailed like the clipped wing on a bird of prey.

But I always knew things are not important. If I won the lottery in the morning, I would not go out and buy stuff. In fact, and very ironically, my ex and I used to fight over imaginary lottery wins as I would threaten to give away at least two thirds of it – but this was fictional winnings, maybe I might have been a lot greedier with the real stuff. I think, however, if I did win the lottery now, I might pop in Primark and buy some dresses. I might book a holiday – but not very far and exotic, and preferably with family. I might buy a Micra with power steering. Oh, go on I might buy a nicer car. But not much nicer. Nice enough!

So I have learnt that even forcibly removing goods from a person is tough, but you can survive. I cannot claim to have learnt any deep stuff from this shit. I probably should be able to point to a moment and a feeling and say – Yes that is when I knew who I was or some sort of thing. I can’t. I can’t even claim to feel good about hitting the bottom, because I have hit more bottoms than Mr Grey, without any pleasure, and I see no sign of that downslide abating – yet!

But it has reinforced my knowledge that possessions are much less important than things, experiences and people. Always people. But I always knew that Universe, so why did you take everything away? I can only hope so you can give it back, tenfold! Lol
However, while I know that stuff is not important. Hey, I was brought up by two great parents and a brother, so I knew that, but I learnt something else, something quite surprising.

You’d think that losing everything would make me very weak and vulnerable. It would turn me into a churchmouse who was scared of everything. I would be looking over my shoulder at shadows, jumping at noises in the bushes and terrified of authority. It didn’t. Actually the opposite was true. Now don’t get me wrong, I have spent nights crying myself to sleep, I have spent days unable to get out of bed, I have walked in a daze and known no one before me. But I am not afraid.

I admit to being scared. I worry about the future (although I recognise that is futile in itself). I alternate between great enthusiasm when I wake, to extreme tiredness at the end of day, and yet still fail to sleep through a full night. But I am not afraid. So, I looked at my talents and writing is my passion. While gainfully employed I had no time to write. Now, I had nothing to distract me, so, I took out my metaphorical pen and I wrote a bonk buster. A real page turner with lots of steamy sex. When I say steamy, a recent reviewer said I made 50shades look positively monochrome by comparison. But the difference is that I put my heart and soul into the book. It is a book about a 40 year old woman coming to terms with life, children, dating and basically holding the can.

I thought long and hard about this writing, especially the steamy side of it, but I knew at the end of the day I am not afraid. Of course, my two children are mortified. They are teenagers and the thought of their mother writing about sex is terrible, worse than if I was found guilty of shoplifting at Aldi. I don’t blame them but I am not afraid of them either, or rather their reaction.