Mike McCormack

Once I was on a bus to Cavan town to meet a Cavan man and I overheard two young lads a couple of seats in front of me talking about cool stuff they were reading. One of them said: “You gotta read Philip K. Dick. He’s fuckin maaad.”

That’s the genre of Getting it in the Head. If I’d had a copy of it then, I’d have given it to them and said “This is maaaaader.” But that’s a big if.

The titles say it all:

• A is for Axe
• The Angel of Ruin
• Dead Man’s Fuel
• The Occupation: A Guide for Tourists

and of course the title story: Getting it in the Head.

I’d heard about this Mike McCormack a long time ago: an Irish writer who writes stuff about the crazy modern world we live in. A writer who could go toe to toe with Ballard. K. Dick, or Chuck Palahniuk. Once or twice I asked in a bookshop had they anything by him, but they never did. I kept hearing things at third or fourth remove about his books — someone knew somebody who had read them and said they were brill. Someone had the book once, read one story that was absolutely amazing, then the book went missing. It was all very legendary.

I tried to order online but there were no new copies available. There was a secondhand copy available for £0.05. That is, five pence. What shop can sell stuff for ten cents?? I looked up the bookshop, tracked it on google maps, zoomed it, switched to satellite view. It appears to be some massive warehouse on the outskirts of the city of Durham. Julies bookshop. A couple of weeks later the book arrived.

I pictured a human searching the shelves for the last copy of McCormack’s book, typing out the invoice, putting it in an envelope, licking a stamp, sending it off. All for £0.05. Why? Why? Why? I want to live in a world that makes sense.

BTW don’t let the cover image get you into the bad habit of scribbling out people’s heads.