That’s a wrap!
This has been a rollercoaster of a ride, from having Whirligig accepted by Fledgling Press to being shortlisted for the McIlvanney Prize – with all the media attention that involves.
I’m very much a new writer, and I hope my short journey can inspire other potential writers out there to ‘just do it’! I only started writing three short years ago when I produced the prologue to my Fairy Tartan Noir – One is One. I have no idea where it came from; one moment I was sat staring at my laptop screen and the next I opened a Word document and started typing. I didn’t know that I was on a journey at that point, but then the most exciting journeys often start that way!
Now I’m well on the way with my second crime book, there’s a half-finished environmental thriller waiting for my attention and I have at least four more books clamouring to be written. I think the most important lessons that I have learned during this process is firstly to have confidence and belief in yourself, without that none of us can reach anywhere near our potential. The second is to take opportunities when they come your way, see them for what they are. The third is to be kind and help one another on this journey we all undertake from cradle to grave – but try and have fun on the way.
Is there a negative to all this? I guess any creative person who releases their work into the world will be able to tell you it’s a worrying time – not that dissimilar to seeing your child go out into the world. There are plenty of people who will welcome you with open arms, enjoy your creation and comment accordingly; then there will be those that for whatever reason will put you down. That is unavoidable, and like the fabled starship captain you may have to learn the command ‘Shields Up’.
Thanks to everyone who made Bloody Scotland happen this pandemic year, possibly the strangest year of my life in many respects. Thanks to everyone who enjoyed Whirligig, the next one is coming… and of course thanks to everyone who picks up a book and reads – without you our stories would wither and die.