We wanted to challenge ourselves, and friendship is still at the heart of it
Sarah Breen and Emer McLysaght, the duo behind Ireland's beloved Aisling series, are stepping into unfamiliar creative territory with a crime-comedy novel rooted in their own noughties J1 experiences. Our Deadly Summer marks not an abandonment of what made them beloved, but a deepening of it — the same trust between friends, now placed inside a darker, stranger world. It is the kind of creative risk that only writers who have already found their audience can afford to take, and perhaps only writers who have found each other can dare.
- After five Aisling novels and half a million copies sold, Breen and McLysaght are deliberately stepping away from a formula that made them household names in Ireland.
- Our Deadly Summer drops two friends onto Long Island in the early 2000s with a J1 visa and, somehow, a corpse — a tonal shift sharp enough to invite comparisons to Bad Sisters and Richard Osman.
- The noughties setting carries its own quiet tension: an era close enough to sting with recognition but distant enough to feel like costume, flip phones and low-rise jeans now labeled vintage.
- A new publisher, Bloomsbury, signals a broader ambition, even as the long-awaited Aisling TV adaptation remains stranded in development hell with no clear horizon.
- The two authors write separately but converge regularly, their voices so intertwined after years of collaboration that neither can always recall who wrote which line — a creative symbiosis that is itself the engine of the work.
Sarah Breen and Emer McLysaght built something rare with Aisling — a character so attuned to Irish life that she sold half a million copies and won three Irish Book Awards. But their next novel, arriving next May, takes a deliberate turn into darker territory.
Our Deadly Summer is set on Long Island in the early 2000s, where two friends on J1 visas find themselves entangled with a corpse. It's crime fiction with a comic edge, drawing comparisons to Bad Sisters and Richard Osman. The friendship at its core echoes the Aisling books, but the genre, setting, and tone are entirely new ground. The idea grew organically from a conversation in Sarah's kitchen, where the two were sharing unusual experiences they'd each had before they ever met.
The noughties setting is deliberate. There's a particular comfort in that era now — dial-up internet, flip phones, jeans that defied gravity — and a slight sting when you realise the clothes you wore in your twenties are being sold as vintage. Emer lived that J1 summer on Long Island herself. Sarah didn't do the visa, but a week crammed into a Montauk house with 27 Irish students gave her enough material to work with.
The book marks their first with British publisher Bloomsbury, a new chapter professionally as well as creatively. The Aisling TV adaptation, meanwhile, remains in development limbo — possible, but uncertain. On the question of whether Irish humour travels, both authors point to Father Ted, Derry Girls, and Sharon Horgan as evidence that specificity can find its audience, even if it doesn't always show up on the British bestseller charts.
Both spent over a decade as journalists before turning to fiction, a background that gave them curiosity and the discipline to meet deadlines. They write apart but plan together, their styles so closely matched that they often lose track of who wrote what. They're heading somewhere new with Our Deadly Summer — but, as ever, they're heading there together.
Sarah Breen and Emer McLysaght built their reputation on Aisling, a character so perfectly calibrated to Irish life that she became, in their own words, the Irish everywoman. Five books, half a million copies sold, three Irish Book Awards. But next May, they're walking away from that world entirely—or at least sideways into a darker one.
Their new novel, Our Deadly Summer, is set in the early 2000s on Long Island, where two friends arrive on J1 visas and somehow end up with a corpse. It's crime fiction with a comic edge, a tonal departure so sharp that comparisons have already been drawn to Bad Sisters and Richard Osman's work. Emer actually lived that J1 summer herself, on Long Island, though she never crossed paths with Billy Joel. Sarah didn't do the visa route, but she spent a week crammed into a small house with 27 Irish students in Montauk, which gave her a taste of the particular chaos that era produced.
Why abandon a formula that worked so spectacularly? Both authors say they wanted to challenge themselves. The friendship theme that anchored the Aisling books remains central to Our Deadly Summer, but everything else—the genre, the setting, the tone—has shifted. The story itself came from an unexpected place: Breen and McLysaght were discussing two unusual experiences they'd each had before they ever met, sitting in Sarah's kitchen, and the idea simply grew from there. It's the kind of creative accident that only happens when two writers trust each other enough to build something entirely new.
The noughties nostalgia angle isn't accidental either. There's comfort in that era now, Breen suggests—dial-up internet, flip phones, jeans cut so low they defied physics. McLysaght finds it jarring to see the clothes she wore in her twenties labeled vintage. She knows how her mother felt when bell-bottoms came back around. That temporal distance, that slight sting of recognition, is part of what makes the setting work.
This is also their first book with Bloomsbury, a British publisher, a shift from their previous home. The publishing industry is in flux—AI, cost-of-living pressures—but both authors express confidence in their new team. The Aisling TV adaptation, meanwhile, remains stuck in what the industry calls development hell. It may never happen. But they're hopeful, because these things take time.
On the question of whether Irish humor travels: the Aisling books never hit the British bestseller charts, but Breen still receives messages from UK readers who are enjoying them. Father Ted, Derry Girls, Sharon Horgan—there's precedent for Irish comedy finding an audience abroad. The specificity doesn't always translate to chart position, but it does translate to connection.
The two write apart but meet regularly to plan the next chapters. Their personalities, imaginations, and writing styles are similar enough that they often forget who wrote which section. Both spent over a decade as journalists, a grounding that taught them to be curious and to meet deadlines—skills that transfer directly to fiction. Breen's advice on writing is simple: write it first, then make it good. McLysaght's supreme ruler decree would ban phones from making any sound on public transport, not even a text notification. They're heading into unfamiliar territory with Our Deadly Summer, but they're heading there together, which seems to be the only way they know how to work.
Notable Quotes
It's quite jarring to see the clothes I wore in my teens and early twenties referred to as 'vintage'— Emer McLysaght
Write it first, then make it good— Sarah Breen, on writing advice
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why move away from Aisling when she was clearly working so well for you?
We'd told her story. Five books, and we felt we'd said what we needed to say. But more than that—we wanted to scare ourselves a little. Crime fiction is different muscle work than comedy.
The noughties setting feels very deliberate. Is that nostalgia, or something else?
It's partly nostalgia, yes, but it's also distance. You need distance to see something clearly. The early 2000s feel far enough away now that we can examine them without being inside them.
You both drew from real J1 experiences. How much of the book is autobiographical?
The setting and the atmosphere are real. The dead body is not. We took the texture of that summer—the crowding, the strangeness of being Irish abroad, the particular friendships you form—and we built a crime story inside it.
Switching publishers to Bloomsbury is a big move. Were you nervous?
A little. But good editors exist everywhere. What mattered was finding people who understood what we were trying to do with this book, which is quite different from Aisling.
The Aisling TV show is still in development hell. Does that sting?
These things take time, or they don't happen at all. We've made peace with both possibilities. The books exist. That's what matters.
What do you hope readers who loved Aisling will make of this?
That we're still the same writers, just working in a different register. The friendship at the heart of it—that's Aisling DNA. Everything else is new.