About Derek
Derek Farrell has, since childhood, told stories.
Of course, back then they were called lies, and usually got him in to trouble, but nowadays his stories, humorous poetry and song lyrics are entertaining people from Kansas to Crawley.
Derek grew up in a small terrace close to the Guinness brewery in Dublin’s Liberties neighbourhood, where the smell of roasting hops alternated with the yeasty fermentation of the mash, and the cry of the seagulls was interrupted occasionally by the snorting of an escaped cow on the rampage from the abattoir at the bottom of the street.
To date, Derek has completed three novels. His latest novel is a contemporary Cosy-Noir mystery story called Death of a Diva. The book features his wonderfully human detective Danny Bird, and it’s been described as “Like The Thin Man meets Will & Grace via Ab Fab. In Bermondsey.”
Derek’s literary heroes include Agatha Christie, P.G. Wodehouse, Lawrence Block, Joe Keenan, Steven Saylor, Scott Fitzgerald, Jonathan Harvey, Doctor Seuss and anyone who actually drags their arse to the desk and writes, Goddammit!
His jobs have included: Burger dresser, Bank teller, David Bowie's paperboy, and eventually Investment Banker on the 80th floor of the World Trade Centre. Time in high finance, has given him an opportunity to observe people, to understand the persuasive power of language and to develop an insight into the workings of the criminal mind, whilst allowing him to live and work in Hong Kong, Istanbul, Tel Aviv, Prague and London.
And all the time, he’s been telling stories.
You should get to know him.
Twitter: @derekifarrell
Here are my most recent posts
by Derek | Sep 2, 2015 | Writing
I come from a story telling people. The Irish – the Celts – didn’t retain their personalities, their cultures, for as long as they did by simply painting themselves blue and waving their arses at invaders*. They did it by telling stories; by turning the everyday...
by Derek | Aug 29, 2015 | Writing
Write. Your whole life. Tell Stories to your family, to your friends and – sometimes – to total strangers. Write one of these stories down. Write another. Write a book. Read it. Decide it’s not very good. Write another. And another. Read this one. Laugh. A lot. Decide...
by Derek | Aug 16, 2015 | Memories
I don’t remember much of the sixties, and what I can remember consists of me lying on my back with a bottle within easy reach. Some things never change. I had an interesting childhood, as both my parents were international Nazi Hunters. Kidding: I grew up in Dublin,...
