It's time to post my 'trick or treat' angst again... It's Halloween, or All Hallow's Eve. The 31st of October is the night before All Saints' Day (All Hallows) in the Christian calendar, or the traditional Celtic festival of Sumhuinn, which marks the end of summer and the harvest, and the onset of a bleak and unsheltered… Continue reading We go guising in Scotland, there’s none of this trick or treat nonsense at Halloween.
While it may appear that I've been quiet on the writing front (my latest novel is progressing well, but is still a work in progress) I have been incredibly busy writing, producing and directing another project. My latest film, 'Jimmy Johnstone' was premiered at the IMAX cinema in Glasgow on Monday 19th of September to a… Continue reading Writing brilliant characters in fiction and creative non-fiction; a real privilege.
A piece I wrote about writing, producing and directing my latest purpleTV film; Jimmy Johnstone, is on the Glasgow Live website today. You can view it on the site, or below. The premiere screening is at the IMAX Glasgow on Monday evening! Growing up in a football family I was always aware of Celtic’s greatest-ever player: Jimmy Johnstone.… Continue reading From idea to cinema screening, the making of the #JimmyJohnstone film.
I'm returning to the city tomorrow, back to my home town of Glasgow. I've been at Maoil na nDreas, my home on Rathlin Island, for three weeks. I've been working (a lot) but I've also been holidaying, spending quality time with family, writing, laughing, looking. Just looking. We don't look enough. When we do, we… Continue reading Saying goodbye is easier when the island is keeping watch.
The swallows are home from their travels, fountain pen tails inking the sky with stories, polished backs glistening like stars falling from the passing night. They are way too quick to allow me to photograph them but they are making their presence felt, swooping low and daringly along the edge of the patio, their new… Continue reading Pushing beyond the swallows at Maoil na nDreas.
I was back at the Mitchell Theatre in Glasgow last night, this time attending an Aye Write! event featuring Kate Tempest, hosted by the brilliant poet Holly McNish. My friend Beccy and I settled into the packed theatre, a room tense with creative anticipation. We soon found out that the passion was well-placed. Kate, well… Continue reading “All fiction begins in a lived truth” says @katetempest
Grief is a monster. A parasite as heavy as sin that clings brutally to the emptiness that loss exhumes. It steals your breath, shocking your body at every turn, luring your soul into the slow tide of darkness. A bleak and endless eruption of eerie silence it rises methodically to the surface, piercing any hint of… Continue reading Grief is an emotional amputation.
Hidden in the urban setting, behind the houses across the narrow street from my city home, there's a mud-stained lane that serves as a tiny reminder of my rural life. Along with my dog and cats, I hobble there in the mornings, my joints like steel, my footsteps like fire, my imposter of a body carrying me into… Continue reading If you listen carefully enough you can hear the pain of pro-creation.
I'm at my island home. There's a storm outside. The wind is strong and vocal, its intensity tossing the sea into a sky kneeling so low it is swallowing salty water hungrily; head back, gaping throat open, the effervescent foam gushing down its impossibly long neck. The peat is burning, its heavy hue hitching an easy ride on the fertile surf that… Continue reading Today the world lost a friend and the island mourns.
It has been a long time since I've made it home to Mullindress, my wee house up the hill on Rathlin Island. Nothing has changed and yet everything has changed. The light has altered, and continues to do so daily. The sun rises and falls from a new perspective; this morning barely climbing beyond the horizon,… Continue reading A winter tale.