Born in London, raised in Stevenage, currently living in East Anglia where he works as an editor, writer and project worker. Studied Modern Languages, which, he is sad to confess, he now speaks with the linguistic incompetence so typical of his fellow natives. Co-founder of Imsatso Productions, and occasionally involved with Menagerie Theatre Company. His Kindle collection of flash fiction The On-and-On Tin is available on Amazon.
Sean McSweeney in 60 seconds
When did you start writing?1982 England
What do you love about Short Stories?That the best can deliver the same punch as a good novel or film.
Do you write in other forms?Many – too many, in fact.
What distracts you from writing?Anything that messes with your head – incompetent bureaucracies, hopeless transport systems, the need to earn money, mendacious software, cold callers, etc.
Outside of writing, what are your other passions?Music and sport are big ones.
What is your favourite book?Tristram Shandy (today – could be a different answer tomorrow).
Who are your favourite writers?Alice Munro, Russell Hoban and George Orwell
Where is your dream location?A traditional English mediterranean town in Central Europe.
What one item would you put into Room 101?Buskers using amplification (especially for a backing track). I admire buskers and will often reward them, but they must be acoustic; otherwise it is intrusive.
Do you have any advice for new writers?I wouldn't dare presume… except, perhaps to remind them that rejections are opinions not definitive judgments.
Work by Sean McSweeney:
Tell Us a Joke
“Once I roared out of the dark days of winter like a young lion, stored up the triumphs and heat of the spring and summer to see me through the coming cold and dark.” But Nigel is past his peak now, long past, and a string of trivial incidents during a boozy day in the pub bring it home to him. Memories of the past are no solace when you don't get the respect you think you deserve.
No One Ever
“Many who waded through the water coloured it with their blood, wine-red – a new meaning for the wine-dark sea of legend…” The battle of Marathon, fought in a time of treachery, danger and intense fear and superstition, was a military disaster for the Persians. But it was not the end of danger for Greece, and the courier’s famous triumphant journey, commemorated in the Olympic race, carried a frightening secret: “His own shadow, long and thin in front of him, was like a rope pulling him towards Athens; as he neared his destination so it gradually shortened, so the sun rose, so the enemy fleet moved towards Phalerum.” What of the Athenian runner himself? Surely, there was no way he could have known how his feat would be celebrated: “Thousands upon thousands of people running. In all the known world, and even lands beyond.” He would surely not have known or cared how fast he was running. And he would not have been able to predict that two messengers, not one, would be named in the annals. Or would he?
What if the dead could apologise for leaving you? "The first thing you have to take in – if you're fairly young, that is – what you have to try to imagine is a world where people never heard anything from anyone among the departed. There was no message, not of any type … So, from a world in which there was no such communication, to one in which sooner or later just about everyone would get word. When the phone calls started it was amazing…"
Latest posts from Sean McSweeney...
Sean McSweeney has not posted anything yet