I started writing my first book when I was still at school. It wasn't historical fiction, it was high fantasy, and it was the first of ten books, under the collective title The Watcher's Heir . I knew from the word go that it was going to have this number of books, although I didn't really work out exactly what would happen in each one. Twenty-five years on and the books are still not finished, although I now only have a couple more to go! Every Christmas I settle down and manage to write a chapter or two more, and every New Year it is my resolution to finish them. I suspect this will go on for a few years more. In the passage of time since then, I've written more than a dozen books. I can't quite pinpoint what it is which keeps obstructing the conclusion of these books. It could be that I am not the same person I was 25 years ago (who is?!), and so the voice which began the books is almost unrecognisable. It could be that I have now passed the age almost all of my ...
During November, the Scottish reading and writing community come together for Book Week Scotland . This week-long, themed event is designed to break barriers and promote a love of books and reading for all. This year's theme is Hope , and I encourage all of you - whether you are in Scotland or not - to keep up with and enjoy the events which are happening (quite a few are online). This year, Book Week Scotland is 18th-24th November. So, in the spirit of community and hope, here is a little poem I wrote about a mother rocking her child to sleep. It embodies the fears and hopes of the historical communities of Orkney, where I grew up, and Caithness, where I live now. In a time before mobile phones or satellite weather forecasting, hope was the only connection those on land had with their loved ones on the sea. The Fishwife’s Lullaby Hush… Father’s boat will soon be mooring. You shall see him in the morning When tide returns him home. Sleep… Time for thoughts and dreams of glor...