Dublin features in my novel, Eggshells, almost as a character in itself, a sometimes magical but occasionally sinister character. For Vivian, the protagonist, Dublin is the place she hopes will show her how to live, where to go, how to be. Her hopes for a city are too high. Vivian maps the routes she walks onto greaseproof paper, in a vain attempt to discover where she should be. As someone who doesn’t quite fit in, Vivian is a drifter, an observer. She’s not part of the rush-hour speed-walkers, not part of the pram-pushing slow-walkers, not part of any group. Because she walks alone and spends so much time inside her head, Dublin becomes as alive to Vivian as a human. She takes street names...
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