I’m not a great one for talking, me, never have been. In fact, I would say that, as a race, we are over-dependent upon the sound of the human voice and the words that trickle and flood from its facial orifices.
As a writer, I have always been more interested in what lies between, and beneath, the words that pour from people in such abundance – because it is my contention (and this is hardly a new thought) that we communicate a whole world of atmosphere as well as the stream of story: That what we give off is just as clear as that we give out in the verbal sense.
In ‘Heneghan’, and without going into any extraneous details, I attempt to pin down and explore the world of hesitant or reluctant speakers; people for whom emotional damage – often deeply buried – or natural inclination casts clouds…
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