
Dublin’s favourite arseholes consider what it means to be Irish, and how that might work to their financial gain. Don’t tell the European Union.

The notion of artists working for free is a frequent hot topic online. Is writing or performing for free in order to get so called ‘exposure’ the great modern swizz which is destroying the potential of a generation? Perhaps that question has already been answered, because a lot of high-quality free internet content is disappearing. And it’s making me think.

When it comes to selling your book, what’s the difference between marketing and shouting? Is it possible to promote through social media without your friends and family feeling like they’ve come under attack? I asked social media guru and non-fiction author Lorna Sixsmith – is it possible to market a book without annoying people?
You love the cops in crime novels. So careworn, and yet mysterious. They have money, and yet never spend it on themselves. Granted, being married to one is just asking for trouble. But you could just share a house with one, right? That would be exciting, and spice up your humdrum existence no end!
Let’s take a look, and see if you might want to think this through a little more…

Where did pieces of glorious human creativity go, before the internet? Where were the cat pictures, the listicles and the punny prose, before they appeared on our Facebook news feeds? The internet has had a lot to do with the way we consume our entertainment – but it’s done even more for how we produce it.

There are certain classic novels which we all know, because they’re still widely read today. But what would they look like if they were being published for the first time this year? Would Jane Eyre fit the Domestic Noir genre profile? Would the numerous plot strands of Bleak House be dumbed down? Who would supply the perfect cover quote for Robinson Crusoe? And who would dare to pigeon hole Ulysses? I would, that’s who.

Being a book reviewer is a tough gig, which is why I’m glad don’t do reviews on this blog. But because I spend so much time shouting and roaring all over the interweb about booky stuff, people often ask me for recommendations. It never ends well. Once it ended up in tears, recriminations, and a mud-wrestling pit. Who knew bookish types were so volatile? Well, actual book reviewers, for a start. And they’ve known for a while.

Oh, dear. There you are, minding your own business, when along comes another needy whiny blog post asking for support. Do you want to vote for me? It’s doesn’t really matter, because I’m asking you to do it anyway. Which is only logical. Also, Donald Trump naked on the toilet. It’s true. It’s the truth.