On a blisteringly hot day in August, a young girl knocks on the door of a man’s house.
She is about twelve years old, small, skinny, dressed in odds and ends, her arms covered with biro marks. Her father, she says, has “gone too.” Thus opens Conor O’Callaghan’s debut novel, Nothing on Earth. What follows is a strange tale of disappearances, family secrets and inexplicable events set on a ghost estate. Part of O’Callaghan’s skill as a writer is in keeping the reader guessing. The more you learn about the girl, what brought her to the man’s door, and what happens afterwards, the less sure of anything you’ll be. Nothing on Earth is neither a mystery or a Gothic novel, although it has elements of both. It also functions as a commentary on contemporary Ireland and how marginalised people can fall through the cracks of society.
Beautifully written and carefully crafted.