It may surprise the majority of the public to know that the best selling book in Ireland during the 1970?s would physically lose itself in the palm of your hand. It was a small innocuous yellow paperback with the somewhat unprepossessing title of ?The Bones of Bridge?. At a time when an Irish publisher considered himself to have scored a bonanza when he sold 2,000 copies of a title, ?The Bones of Bridge? sold an average of 5,000 copies a year.

What must have been more irritating to the publishers of the day was the atmosphere that surrounded this little tiger. While they were publishing exciting new material written by the best and most creative minds in the country, here was this fátog of a book outselling them at a rate of knots. And all it was doing was explaining the rules of Bridge!

It was possibly just as well they didn?t know that the self same creator of this aberration was also the author and publisher of three extremely funny novels which gathered around themselves something of a cult following. Without apology, without obeying any of the so called accepted normal publishing criteria and with little or no distribution, these little beauties ran through a number of editions in a limited short space of time, hitting sales of 5,000 or 6,000 copies. And nobody took any notice.

These books broke all the rules. They were published in a paperback of poor quality, black covered with garish red titles, littered with typo errors, and selling at below cost price of the normal paperback at the time. That they had the rather intriguing titles of ?Vexed at his own Funeral?, ?No Time for Work? and ?Time for a Smile?.

The books, as I?ve said, gained something of a cult following. A member of this cult became recognisable by his demeanour. Nearly always male, he sidled into the shop generally in a raincoat that made Colombo look like the Best Dressed Man of the Year. He never raised his eyes to you but asked for The Book out of the side of his mouth. The couple of bob he had to give you to pay for The Book always came from different pockets and you were a little surprised when, somehow or other, he eventually managed to find the last penny.

Gradually the books disappeared, presumed out of print. While there is no evidence to suggest there is a connection, it is intriguing that their demise coincided with the first bleatings of the so-called Celtic Tiger. The side mouthed request for The Book became rarer and rarer and eventually gained an aura of reclusive nostalgia of the ?There?s only a few of us left? variety.

However, I am glad to report, some things never die. About three weeks ago a letter arrived on my desk with a Press Release. Normally, these are automatically thrown out, but this one had a story to tell. It reads:

?I was a national teacher in various schools throughout the Republic. I was never sacked and only once asked to resign, of which facts I am justifiably proud. Three times I gave up teaching for life. Inquisitive individuals who asked why I threw up the job were told that work was interfering with my drinking, whereas it was the other way around. I turned out to be an alcoholic. If friends hadn?t helped to steer me off the booze, I?d, this minute, be in a psychiatric hospital or dead or both.

I?m Bridge correspondent for the ?Irish Times? for 35 years. I used to do a daily article. Gave that up. Later I did a weekly article. Gave that up. Now I do a weekly piece reporting on Bridge events.

Over 20 years ago I wrote two humorous novels, ?No Time For Work? and ?Vexed At His Own Funeral?. They sold well, and were re-printed several times.

Eight years ago I was driving a crock of a 14-year-old car that was letting me down all over Ireland. As the same characters were in these two novels I decided to get the money for a new car by rewriting them as one book, called ?Time For A Smile?. I threw that book together and sold another 5,000 copies in about four months.

Last October I reread it. Even though people have told me they enjoyed it immensely I was disgusted with it; ashamed of it. I decided to rewrite it. Painstakingly I made a least 2,000 minor improvements in the phraseology, and added over 30,000 words, and thus came about the latest version of ?No Time For Work?.

Because of the price of books these days friends have told me that I?m stone mad to be charging only €6.90. I?m sane enough to know I?m a bit mad, BUT PLEASE MENTION THE PRICE OF THE BOOK IF YOU FAVOUR ME WITH A REVIEW.?

Now, who could resist that plea!! In fact, the book is a delight and totally irreverent. George Ryan insists that all the stories in it actually happened to him or one of his colleagues. It is not without a more serious message though, but for only €6.90, you could suffer that.