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Emerging Writer Member Profile

Wayne Power

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Member Bio:

A journalism graduate from Waterford , still looking and working on my big break. I have been writing since I was a kid. And always dreamed of walking into a book store and seeing my book on the shelves.
At the moment I suffer with agoraphobia and that is an ongoing battle that has influenced a lot of my writing. However it doesn’t define me. I’m influenced by pop culture , music , romance and the human condition. My literary influences range from Jonathan Harvey to Roddy Doyle to Donal Ryan.
I like stories with a bit of grit and substance but that can come in all shapes and genres.

Current Project

Currently working on The heartbreak Monologues which follows various characters that deal with heartbreak and loss. There’s Panda Eyes who was jilted on her wedding day yet is still deeply in love with the man who left her at the altar. then theres Tara who walked in form a 12 hour work shift to find her long term boyfriend in bed with her gay best friend.
The various monologues I hope will show the wide spectrum of emotions that come with love and heartbreak. And I see it as a starting point from which to launch into other projects.

Writing Sample

The Heartbreak Monologues

Panda Eyes

Besotted!! They all said it. She’s besotted with him. And they weren’t wrong. I was besotted with him. I AM besotted with him. Right until half twelve this afternoon.
I should’ve seen it coming. But no, not Pamela. Panda Eyes Pamela. He gave me that name the night he asked me to marry him. The night Waterford lost the Munster Final. Six years ago. Six fucking years. We had walked up and down the sand hills in Tramore. We would have done it right there in the dunes at half seven in the evening. Only I’m terrified of dogs. Some woman came walking past with those husky dogs that look like wolves. And me with my bare arse hanging out. And him doing up his zipper. Pretending he dropped his keys in the sand. We were both buckled with the laughing. We had our first date in Tramore. Three years beforehand. We went on that rickety rollercoaster. I loved it. He came off and he was white in the face. I don’t know. There was innocence about him. And just the way I’d catch him looking at me. I don’t even know how to describe it. It was love. It was just, just perfect.
And he bought me a chip in Cunningham’s. It started pissing it down. We got in his car. WLR FM was on. I still remember the song. BellX1 – Rocky Took A Lover. We loved that song. And there was just silence. All you could hear was the radio and the Tramore rain pelting off the window. And the pair of us was scoffing a spice burger. When the song finished, an ad came on for the Credit Union. We both sang along to the jingle. Oh the laughing. And before I knew it, he’d leant it and kissed me. And even though I could taste the spice burger on his lips. I didn’t give a shit.
His thumb circling my cheek. I fancied him rotten. Besotted. And when we stopped, he bowed my head and kissed me on the forehead. And gave me that dopey, semi brazen smile that would always make me go weak. That grin that would make me forgive anything. Like deleting all my episodes of Long Lost Family to make space on the Sky planner for Game of Thrones. Or forgetting to pick up a Euro millions ticket when there’s a rollover. Like the time he walked into Boots to pick me up fake tan and came out with a tube of Vagisil. Like today.
So we walked up that glorious promenade six years ago, like it foreshadowed today. And it was a gorgeous July evening. Everybody enjoying the summer whilst we had it. All the oul wans nattering away “Oh they think we’ll have it until Thursday before it breaks “
There’s something about the sunshine that brings out the best in people. The hope. Of course, the sun doesn’t shine forever. It breaks. Like your heart.
We went up to Dooley’s for a chip. He insisted on ordering. Then had me search his wallet. Said he’d misplaced some card. I was looking right towards the bumpers in the amusement park. When I turned around he’d handed me a tray of chips. I looked down and there he was. On bended knee. And that’s when I saw the ring. Winking at me amidst the top of the chips.
“What the f..”
“Pamela Kelly, will you marry me? “
My head was spinning. My hands were shaking. A group of people had stopped to watch. Beaming at the pair of us. I was purple.
“Yeah!! Yeah. I’ll marry you. Yes’’
The tears cascaded down my face like the raindrops on his car window, that first night we kissed. And even though that little crowd clapped and cheered. All I heard and saw was him. The rest of my life. I saw it playing out in my minds eye. And I cried and cried.
“C’mere to me panda eyes ‘’
He called me that ever since cos I cried at everything. One Born Every Minute. Panda Eyes. Those videos on Children In Need. Panda Eyes. When Adele sang Someone Like You at the BRITS. Panda Eyes. When Pat Butcher died in Eastenders. Panda Eyes. When the marriage referendum was a Yes vote. Panda Eyes.
When the man you want to spend the rest of your life with jilts you on your wedding day. Panda Eyes.
Not a phone call. Not a word. A solitary text at the altar of Ballybricken Church.
“I do love you. But I can’t’’
Well I smashed d that iPhone so hard off the marble, the entire place jumped. The entire place.
Friends. Family. Me poor Nanny Bridie. The poor woman didn’t know what was going on. And she only getting over the hip operation. Me niece. She looked like a little doll in that dress. My father. Me poor father. He never shows any emotions at such occasions. I wanted to hug him. Tell him I was sorry. Tell him I’d let him down. Me two sisters, Niamh and Caoimhe. They never looked so stunning. They did me proud. His poor mother. She couldn’t look at me. Poor Teresa.
And then I could feel the room spinning. Decked out in my £3000 dress. I couldn’t catch my breath. I ran. Ran like Usain Bolt. The veil flapping behind me like bunting on All Ireland Sunday. I legged it. I couldn’t stay in that church a minute longer. Where I had my First Holy Communion. Where I had my Confirmation. Where my husband not to be had roared like a child in my arms. When cancer took his father. Poor Tony. God forgive me, I’m glad he didn’t live to see this day.
I must have looked like a right lunatic flying through Ballybricken. All the lunchtime traffic was honking and beeping at me. I got to the bandstand on the green and had a full blown panic attack. Before I knew it, Niamh and Caoimhe were





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