Gerard F. Kennedy

Gerard F. Kennedy Writer


‘Every morning between 9 and 12, I go to my room and sit before a piece of paper.  Many times, I just sit for three hours with no ideas coming to me.  But I know one thing: If an idea does come between 9 and 12, I am there ready for it.’ (Flannery O’Connor)

From my desk I have an extensive view of The Pennines.  Sometimes it can be conveniently distracting; but not always.

Until 2011 I was a practising architect.  Now I am a practising writer.

Happy reading…

My Work

novel / 2016

Peddling to The Moon – Synopsis

Timothy dwells in a world darkened by his blindness; the result of a childhood accident.  He has a poetic sensitivity and is inclined towards private contemplation; when he’s not enjoying the pleasure…

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novella / 2012

Lighthouse Shadow – Synopsis

  Berlin’s Oberbaum Bridge has been Stephen’s haunt for almost a decade. It’s where he comes to unwind, to mourn, to dream. On the Oberbaum he’s found by new friends and old. Stephen’s world has…

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short story / 2013


The day before yesterday someone stopped to say hello.  It was a shock, and completely unexpected.  It wasn’t that there was a shortage of people; quite the opposite. The place where I spend my wakefu…

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non-fiction / 2001

An Eye For Cork

    My photographic essay on Cork City was first published in 2001 by the Collins Press.  Here is the Foreword, written by Fiona Shaw.   ‘All photographs are accurate none of them are t…

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broadcast / 2002

A Tale From Two Cities

What are the connections between Belfast and Cork city? The people of the two cities look at the social comparisons and and use their memories to paint a picture of growing up in these unique places.

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My Blog

‘A Troubled Soul’, Ferdinand Hodler

On a recent visit to MASP (Museu de Arte de São Paulo) a painting caught my eye.  I had not heard of the artist before.  The painting, ‘The Woodman’ by Ferdinand Hodler hangs in the ‘transparent, suspended exhibition’ on the second level of Lina Bo Bar …

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‘Every beginning is cheerful’

‘On the tablecloth was a little scroll. “Here is your certificate of apprenticeship,” the Abbé said, “consider it well, its contents are important.” Wilhelm took it up, opened it and read:

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Paris, 25th December 1997

In 1997 Christmas Day fell on a Thursday; nothing exceptional about that. Except, I was in Paris and it was my first Christmas away from home. The entry in my diary for that day reads ‘Met Senator Edward Kennedy’.

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