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breitzbachbea · 1 year

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Character Introductions in Irish Problems - Old vs. New

As a celebration with myself for finishing the first three chapters of the Irish Problems rewrite, I thought I'd compare the first appearance of the ten POV characters in the old draft (written between 2013 & 2015) with the ones in the new draft (written between 2022 & 2023). I haven't done my paper proofread yet nor had a Beta-reader look over it, so these moments may be subject to change. Still, I wanted to take a snapshot of my growth and achievements, so here we go!

Harry O'Connel

Old: And the ivy still entwined around the wooden trellis drilled into the bricks of the front, the windowsills were still green just like the door after Aaron had been gone for four years. His son didn’t mind the look of the house either; he actually did not care about it all. Harry O’Connel had far worse problems occupying his mind than how the ivy slowly started to grow over the window of his study.

“How did that happen?!” Harry thought out loud, tapping his fingers on the table. “Why can’t my life for once go in a good direction?! Why can’t this job for once not be a total pain in the arse?! Why can’t something in this godforsaken country work for just once! The state’s a total catastrophe and the organized crime. How?!”

Chewing on his lower lip, he looked out of the window and let the thoughts ramble on in his head.

(Chapter 1, Scene 1)

New: The windowsills outside were still painted green as the ivy slowly overgrew the window. A lamp on the old but sturdy desk lit the room, to help the few rays of light that still made it through the leaves. It was a nice summer day outside in Dublin.

Elbows on the desk and hands over his head, Harry O’Connel was hunched over it.

“Where’s the money going,” he mumbled to himself.

(Chapter 1, Scene 1)

Paddy O'Neill

Old: “I keep telling you to get help somewhere, Harry” Paddy said and Harry rolled his eyes.

“I can’t be helped in any way anymore but thanks for your concern for the poor sinner” he replied to his bodyguard.

The huge man leaning against the wall beside the window lifted his shoulders for a deep breath and let them drop again, an annoyed frown on his face but it faded quickly.

(Chapter 1, Scene 1)

New: He received no answer from the man who sat on the other side of the desk. Harry lifted his head and caught Paddy O’Neill staring out of the window. Aside from the tiredness, which was mirrored in Harry’s own bones, there was a special weariness in his eyes.

The mournful look had faded some when he looked at Harry. The hunched shoulders made the giant of a man, two metres tall and seemingly a metre wide, appear awkwardly small.

His voice was as deep as ever. “Living. The going isn’t as much of a problem, but the fact that there isn’t any new coming in. Which was also always your father’s problem, especially during the last years of his life.” Paddy sighed, almost inaudibly. “And it seems that after four years of living mostly off his deposit, we’re already at the end of our rope.” His voice had grown more tired over the course of his explanation.

(Chapter 1, Scene 1)

Charlie Higgins

Old: “But how?” he asked. “I need connections for this and my only real connection is Gavin. We can’t just jump into this European mess and hope somebody wants to help us before someone else has already gobbled us up.”

“Did somebody say connections?” Charlie said, entering the room.

Harry looked to the door which Charlie just closed. Turning to him, he had the smug grin on his face that Harry knew for almost 24 years by now.

Right now, he was not exactly in the mood for it.

The other young Irishman kept grinning: “I just waited for the cue to make my entrance.”

(Chapter 1, Scene 1)

New: The front door closed and the world was reduced to his dusty office and the voices of his two right hands downstairs.

“What brawl did you get into, lad?” Paddy asked Charlie.

“The brawl of love,” Charlie replied and Harry rolled his eyes. “A tug of touches, if you want and I came out on top. Don’t worry about the dark circles under my eyes either, these bags are the result of a night well-spent.”

“Alright, that’s all the detail that I need,” Paddy cut him off and Charlie chuckled.

“I needed less,” Harry said to himself.

The staircase wailed as if the combined weight was going to be the end of it.

Charlie Higgins stepped into the study first and Harry immediately spotted what they had been talking about. Dressed in a casual beige summer suit, the dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, the hickeys on his neck stood out as much as the bags under his eyes. His sunglasses hung from one of his suit’s chest pockets.

“There you are,” Harry said. “Did you take all morning to rearrange that bird’s nest on your head?”

The smile on Charlie’s face waned, but it didn’t vanish. His eyes were tired and glazed over.

“Perfection takes time, since this ‘bird’s nest’,” he did air quotes, “doesn’t come as naturally to my hair as it does to yours.”

(Chapter 1, Scene 1)

Soph O'Connel

Old (voice): “Hello?” he answered with a pissed voice.

“Good morning, Mister Grumpy and I-don’t-bother-to-tell-other-people-that-I’m-still-alive” the voice on the other side of the call answered, female and sarcastic in tone.

“Soph!” Harry said surprised.

“Yes, I! Your little sister who is actually worried about you idiot!” Sophie O’Connel gave back upset. “Come on! Just one little call after you arrived down there would have been enough!”

(Chapter 3, Scene 2)

Old (in person): Sophie was worried.

She was always worried about her brother – if it was for his damn business or the fact he was a stupid twat – but now she was worried worried and not even her sheep could distract her.

“He promised to call me each noon”, she told Willow, who grazed in front of the stone she was sitting on. Willow was an old mother sheep and a real good listener – she wasn‘t good at conversation though.

(Chapter 5, Scene 1)

New: Charlie had barely made it down the stairs when keys turned in the front door.

Harry frowned and looked down from the landing.

The next moment, the door was thrown open and Sophie O’Connell almost ran into Charlie.

“Huh?!” She stopped for a second, but rushed past him right after. “Hi Charlie!” She rushed past the stairs. “Hey Paddy!”

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Harry leant over the railing and looked after her as she disappeared into the living room.

“Did the school go up in flames, or …?” Charlie asked. “Would explain the missing jacket.”

“I wish!” Soph answered. “But I forgot my PE bag this morning!” Her stomping and the dull sound of cushions being moved around stopped. “Ugh, I hate running!”

(Chapter 1, Scene 1)

Michele Vento

Old: And finally a person appeared from the pitch-black.

The man was slender, but not too tall. Maybe one or two centimetres taller than Harry. Long coat, hat. The frizzy hair was brown and tied to a loose ponytail. His skin was tanned.

“Buona sera, signori” he said with a soft, but deep voice. Italian, no doubt.

(Chapter 1, Scene 2)

New: It was a beautiful summer day in Palermo. August was less than two weeks away, together with its heat, and life was bustling in some regards and already crawling to a halt in others, all in preparation for finally lying down completely.

The sun hadn’t ventured far enough west yet for any shade to cool the office’s façade, but that didn’t matter. When Michele Vento entered the building, the staircase was as dim and cool as ever. He appreciated the breeze and readjusted his suit. The split second of bright natural he had left he wondered if it had been a good idea to neglect the stone floor during the renovations. Then the heavy wooden door fell shut behind him and the staircase was encased in darkness.

He reached for the light switch and began to climb the stairs. “Hello? Marco? Lorenzo?” He reached the first landing and opened the office door.

(Chapter 2, Scene 1)

Marco & Lorenzo Bontade

Old: A small smile wandered onto his face again: “Of course, Signore O’Connel. But before we start, let me introduce my partners here ̶ the Signori Bontade.”

The two men didn’t say anything, only lowered their sunglasses. It was so synchronously that it made Harry’s heart skip a beat. Like puppets, he thought as Vento carried on:

“My guards and loyal helpers.”

“Ah” was all Harry could get out before clearing his throat. “Pleased to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all ours” they said in unison once more with a grin this time before sharing a look. Their features softened, looking impish and Harry lost any bad feeling he had about them before.

“Or all yours?” the one to the left asked.

“We always mix it up” the right one explained.

Vento put a hand up; the smile on his face was gone: “That’s enough you two.”

They pushed their sunglasses back on, but the puppet effect was as gone as their displayed boredom.

(Chapter 2, Scene 1)

New: “Yeah Michele?” Marco Bontade called.

“What’s up?” Lorenzo Bontade added.

Michele half hadn’t expected an answer. When he had been in this morning, the twins hadn’t been around.

“Oh, so you made it in, marvellous!”

“Why do you sound surprised?” Marco asked. A moment later, he showed up in the doorframe of the office that he shared with his brother.

“We’ve had a few things to fix at home this morning,” Lorenzo said and joined his brother.

The same washed-out blue jeans, the same white sneakers and the same silver watches on their arms. Marco wore an old Caparezza T-Shirt, while the lousy, counterfeit “Mikimix” stitching on Lorenzo’s had seen far better days.

“Which we told you about,” they said in unison.

(Chapter 2, Scene 1)

Tahir Rashid

Old: “You’re the third one to interrupt me minding my own business and I swear Bailey, If you don’t have a good reason you will be the first one I take my anger out on” Tahir Rashid had threatened the taller blond when somebody tapped his shoulder with a “Oi!” while he had been occupied with this morning’s issue of The Independent lying on the table of their conference room.

(Chapter 3, Scene 3) New: There was no need to let the shutters down to keep out the nosy public, since all glass in the huge windows was one-ways. Nor was there a need to fight the humid London summer, should the sun peak out from underneath the clouds, with so many taller surrounding buildings throwing shades and the only window in the room north-facing.

Tahir Rashid liked his privacy, however, so the shutters were partially shut while he finished his issue of The Independent at his desk. Once finished, he closed it and straightened it out. Before he put it into the paper holder on his desk, to be disposed of later, he took a last look at the date. 25th of July.

There were no new notifications on his smartphone and no calls on his landline. He stood up and retrieved his suit jacket from its hook on the side of a shelf. After he had buttoned it up and adjusted the rest of his appearance, he stepped out of the room.

(Chapter 2, Scene 3)

Robert Bailey

Old: He heard the door open, followed by a “Sir?”

Arthur turned towards Robert Bailey, who just entered the room, his boss having a frown on his face: “Did you just enter my office without knocking, Mister Bailey?”

“The rumours are just got proven right and I think that this information is rather important so I didn’t want to waste time, Sir.”

Now Arthur cocked one of his thick eyebrows, still unimpressed: “It’s still not very gentlemanly to just enter my office without knocking.”

Robert sighed: “Since we found out that from all the Sicilian clans he begs Vento I didn’t really bother with being a gentleman this time.”

(Chapter 3, Scene 3)

New: “To be fair to them,” King said and held Tahir’s gaze when he looked over to him. “A goose is unpredictable.”

“Without enough preparation,” Jones began, both pointer fingers raised to underscore her statement, but she was interrupted by the sounds of footsteps.

Robert Bailey came upstairs, oblivious of everyone else as he adjusted his suit jacket. Tahir rolled his eyes.

It didn’t need his intervention for Robert to look up and notice the congregation around the table. “The fuck’s going on here?” he asked with one eyebrow raised and a frown on his face.

“Battle planning,” Jones said. Miah nodded in agreement.

“For the weekend?” Robert asked.

“Afraid not,” Tahir said and Robert’s attention skipped to him for a second.

(Chapter 2, Scene 3)

Arthur Kirkland

Old: It could have been a nice day since it didn’t rain like it usually did in London. Arthur Kirkland however, had too much problems to enjoy it.

Besides, grey skies and rain tapping against the window of his office would have fit his mood way better.

“Why couldn’t you little pathetic leprechaun just stay there in your hole and die slowly?” the Englishman snarled, trying to read the Guardian for the third time this morning but once again without success. He just couldn’t concentrate since there was maybe a problem.

(Chapter 3, Scene 3)

New: “Yes?” The voice was muffled by the door.

“Mister Bailey could finally join us, Sir,” Tahir said and maintained eye-contact with Robert who rolled his eyes.

“Do you think you get paid to be a prick?”

“Do you think you get paid to be a slob?” Tahir smirked.

“Oh, it’s you, come in.”

Tahir opened the door. Exposed brick framed the large window at the back of the room, before the plaster, painted in mint-green, took over the walls. The massive desk could have belonged to the Victorian factory owner that had resided here a whole century ago.

Arthur Kirkland sat behind it. The jacket of his suit was hung over the backrest of one of the visitor’s chairs and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to the middle of his lower arms. The messy blonde hair was as kempt as it would ever be and the big bushy eyebrows weren’t furrowed in annoyance or anger.

“Good morning,” Arthur said while they came in. There was an automaton of a ship on waves in front of him. “You shouldn’t rag on him like that,” he told Tahir while Robert closed the door behind them. He looked over to Robert. “You should quit smoking, though.”

(Chapter 2, Scene 3)

#long post #beablabbers #storie nostre #writing #harry #charlie #paddy #soph #miche #marco #lorenzo #tahir #robert #arthur #for me personally who I am by the score is playing in the background of this post #justice for Sophie girl! And also for everyone else but especially Soph!!!!#look at that new Arthur too. There is some actual imperial jolly good ol britain confidence #not whatever brexit bargain deal britain for britons is going on in the first draft

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