In The Nick Of Time

Galway, on Ireland's west coast, may seem an unlikely setting for a noir-ish crime novel. But it is Jack Taylor's territory, a private eye who works the underside of this seaside city.

"This is where Jack Taylor would have been stationed before he was unceremoniously bounced from the force," says Taylor's creator, author Ken Bruen.

Taylor is the antihero in Bruen's series of darkly comic crime novels, a boozing ex-cop, bounced from "Garda," the Irish police, after, "Numerous cautions. Warnings. Last chances. Reprieves. And still I didn't shape up. Or rather sober up," Bruen reads to CBS News correspondent Anthony Mason.

Bruen's been nominated for almost every crime writing award. "The Guards" won best novel from the Private Eye Writers of America, and Publisher's Weekly called him "one of the finest noir stylists of his generation." Not bad for a quiet Irish boy from Galway, the son of an insurance salesman – especially since Bruen's father was unsupportive of his son's career.

Bruen recalls his father saying, "'I would rather you be a homosexual than a writer.' I came from a family where there's literally - nobody reads books. They regarded books as highly suspicious."

Bruen admits he spent much of his life trying to impress his father. He proudly told him he'd earned his doctorate in metaphysics.

After telling his father his degree meant he earned the title of doctor, dad shot back, "If you think anyone in this family will ever call you doctor you can kiss my arse."

So Dr. Bruen wandered through a number of jobs. He came over to the United States for awhile. One of his jobs included a stint as security guard at the World Trade Center. "I was supposed to protect floor 107A."

Bruen then tried his hand as an actor in low-budget films. But then he stumbled on a career well suited to his restless spirit.

"I'm kind of afraid to admit this: I was one of the people who taught military English to the Kuwaitis," Bruen says.

"And two months later, the Iraqis came rolling down the pike and the Kuwaitis were not ready for them. And I got all these calls saying, 'Ken, it's your fault.'"

However, the job allowed him a way to travel. "I could go literally any place. And because I was single, I had a great sense of adventure," Bruen says.

He took jobs in Japan, Africa and southeast Asia. Then in 1978, Bruen got an offer to teach in Brazil, the South Americans and the Saudis were known to pay the best money to foreign teachers. It looked like a dream job. It turned out to be a nightmare.

"There's a side of my nature that I always want to go down the road less traveled. I'm the kinda guy that when I get into a taxi and the driver says, 'Whatever you do, if you have a couple of beers don't go to this neighborhood.' I write it down and think, 'Go to this neighborhood.'"

Bruen had heard that the infamous "great train robber" Ronnie Biggs frequented a bar in Rio. Unable to find Biggs, Bruen stayed for a pint.

But an ugly fight broke out. Bruen and four other foreigners were arrested. Without ever being charged, he would spend the next four months in a Brazilian jail.

He was exposed to physical and sexual abuse by both his jailors and fellow inmates. "Whatever you did to the foreigners was OK," Bruen says.

"My way of dealing with it was -- and the psychiatrist told me afterwards -- I completely retreated into myself into an area of my mind where they couldn't touch me, like catatonia."

He emerged from prison a scarred man.

"Now, I'm not one of those people that believes there's no such thing as evil. I really believe it exists. I just think some people are born seriously evil. And unfortunately I've run across four or five of them.

"But truly the best -- what has helped me best is writing. I mean that has been the best therapy for me," Bruen says.

Writing crime novels helped him recover. So did meeting his wife, Philomena.

"Now, according to Ken, he's only ever noticed two women in his life, his mother and me. And he actually thinks I believe this," she quips.

Well, there is another girl in Bruen's life, his daughter, Grace. Born with a form of Down's syndrome, the spirited Grace can lighten even her dad's darkest moods

This month, Bruen's newest novel, "Calibre," hits bookstores.

"It's funny now, 15 novels down the road, people say to me, 'When you gonna write a real book,' meaning literary and I'm not someone who's like a waiter hoping to be an actor. I'm not a crime writer hoping to be a real writer. I'm a crime writer, a mystery writer and my ambition is just to keep writing better and better mysteries."

He's an award-winning crime writer now. But for Bruen, the ultimate acceptance may have come several years ago, when his father, who had so disapproved of his writing career died, and Bruen was asked to clear out his dad's clothes and books.

"So I went up to the house and I was cleaning out his stuff and, like most Irish fathers, he would have the family bible by his bed," Bruen says.

"And when I picked it up it fell on the floor and every review of every one of my books was in there. And I thought he knew that I'd be the one clearing out this, so this was his way of saying, 'You did OK.'"