Novelist Anne Griffin ‘exploring new territory’ with remarkable island thriller (2024)

On settling into a cosy table at the Commons café in the Museum of Literature, in Dublin, the novelist Anne Griffin checks the menu’s gluten-free options. She was diagnosed with coeliac disease two years ago and has to be careful — she orders the goat’s cheese salad. Originally from Blackrock, Co Dublin, she has travelled from Mullingar, Co Westmeath, where she lives with her husband, James Lowry, and their son, Adam.

It’s hard to believe that it has been four years since we met for her first-ever interview about her bestselling debut, When All Is Said. For this poignant story about an old man who raises five toasts to five people, Griffin won newcomer of the year at the Irish Book awards.

Her next novel, Listening Still, a devastating tale of chances not taken by a woman who speaks to the dead, was released at an unfortunate time. We were into Covid’s miserable second year, when there were still no book events, and Griffin was too sick to enjoy the moment. “My body started to collapse within,” she says. “As Covid came I was extremely ill anyway. I was feeling down about everything. I count myself lucky that I didn’t get Covid because I’m not sure how well I would have done.”

What was it like producing a second book when her first was such a juggernaut success? “It frightened the bejesus out of me and my confidence was gone,” she says. “Then times changed in terms of how we sold books. There were no book festivals and radio interviews were by phone and Zoom. I should have done quite well as I’m a person who likes my space, my own company, but what I found out was I may be an introvert but I need people. I missed that connection.”

Griffin tells me about The Island of Longing, the third feather in her writing cap. It’s about Rosie Driscoll, a 49-year-old mother whose teenage daughter, Saoirse, has been missing for eight years. One summer she returns to her family home of Roaring Bay Island to pilot the ferry owned by her father, a job she had as a young girl.

When writing the plot for Saoirse, Griffin considered real people who disappeared in Ireland: Deirdre Jacob, Annie McCarrick, Fiona Sinnott, Trevor Deely. She thought of their mothers. “I don’t claim to have any expertise, but it was an honour to watch interviews that these parents have given over the years,” she says. “So much communication is in looking at the face and seeing their worlds, as devastated as they were, and the dignity they brought trying to keep word of their children, to reach someone who might know what happened.”

Did the book come from a place of maternal fear? Her son, 18, is close to Saoirse’s age, and the premise was sparked by her ritual when he left for school. “I give him a hug, but before I close the door I wave to him,” she explains. “He walks up the road, I run up to my bedroom window and the last time I see him is through the passenger door of a neighbour’s car. I was standing there one morning thinking, ‘What if that’s it?’ People lose their children in horrific ways. They disappear and some return, some don’t. I dedicated the book to Adam because it’s that prayer. Not that I’m religious, but it’s that wish that you never go from me in that way.”

In the novel Rosie and her husband, Hugh, diverge because Rosie won’t stop searching for their daughter while Hugh believes she’s dead. At what point do you let go? “Two people who love each other dearly but who are wounded by the other person — there’s nothing they can do other than step away,” she says. With that Rosie retreats to her island and her boat and a posse of eccentrics.

One of Griffin’s great gifts is how she draws small-town communities and the personalities that make them what they are. It’s what the author admires in her fellow authors Anne Tyler and Donal Ryan. “I love the idiosyncrasies of each human being on islands. In small towns you always have a real mix of people. I’m sure everybody drives each other mad, but from an outside perspective there’s a beauty and such love and gentleness to it.”

Roaring Bay Island is inspired by Cape Clear Island off the coast of Cork, where, encouraged by her friend John Boyne, she started writing on a four-month stint in 2013. She’s been coming here for 20 years. Why do these islands have such a magnetic draw for so many? “The peace and the quiet and the idyllic setting,” Griffin says. “I went to Cape Clear Island with my own idea that I would sit every day looking out over the Atlantic and find a peace and a calm. I did find a peace and a calm and I did write a ridiculously terrible book when I was there.”

From that discarded manuscript she transferred the title, The Island of Longing, on to the book we discuss today. “I had a very high journey in the debut,” she says. “My second book was a fraught time. Now this third time it feels like I have come to some kind of peace around writing. I still struggle with who I am. Writing is wonderful for the craft, but everything else around it I sometimes find difficult.”

One assumes she means doing press and the business end of writing, which is a surprise. Griffin is a dream interviewee, sharing elongated, reflective moments without any pretence. Even at the start of her writing career she was candid in discussing herself and her work. Some authors loathe interviews, but they don’t appear to be a chore for her.

To prepare for Rosie’s character, Griffin spent time on Cape Clear Island’s ferry service. “For somebody who is an observer, it’s like being in the arrivals hall of an airport,” she says. “I happily sit with my book and read very little because my ears are co*cked and I’m listening and watching. It’s the meat for my books, the conversations that go on. Same thing as sitting on the wall on the island, watching the comings and goings. I could spend all day, every day doing that.”

Griffin’s three books are linked by grief, regret and loss. Is she naturally inclined towards those sorts of stories? “I’m definitely a glass is half-full … empty! Sorry, my husband is the half-full, I’m the half-empty,” she says with a laugh. “My setting is naturally very quiet, pessimistic.”

Is regret the cruellest emotion? She agrees that it is. “I consider myself a lucky person in that I haven’t had a huge grief. One of the things I like when I’m reading is when I see a vulnerability in somebody else that I know is mine. It’s like a little skip of the heart. I’m right there with the character, I’m living the moment with them. I hope that will come out in my books. I think humans are fascinating creatures.”

Do happy stories sell? Griffin believes they do. In fact her next novel may be one. “I’m trying to deal with vulnerabilities in a happier approach. I don’t know quite what that means yet, but I’m trying to challenge myself as a writer,” she tells me. “I’ve done looking at regret. I’m exploring new territory, but it still has that small community feel. It’s where I like to immerse myself. It’s what I love as a writer. I love the coming together of these characters, how they speak to each other and the mad things they say to each other. It gives me joy and I fall in love with them.”

The Island of Longing is published by Sceptre at €20.99

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