Keeping the faith

 Douglas Skelton calling from a snowy part of Scotland.

OK, it's probably nothing compared to what some parts of the US of A experience but it sure beats the rain!

That's not a standing stone, by the way - it's all that remains of Kyle Castle in Ayrshire. Nothing much of note happened there, although Kyle is derived from Coelus, a king from ancient times who ruled this part of southwest Scotland. He is better known as Old King Cole but I have no idea if he was a merry old soul. Given this was before whisky was widespread and there was no Netflix, he probably wasn't.

The dog is Mickey and he is mine. Or rather, I am his servant. Between him and the cat I do wonder if this opposable thumbs business is all it's cracked up to be.

Anyway, happy 2021, folks! The year that shall not speak its name is now a bad memory and we should look to the future with optimism.

That's where the whisky and Netflix will come in, perhaps.

Seriously, we have a period of tumult ahead but I do believe we will get to better times. As long as people continue to take the virus seriously and follow precautions, give the vaccines time to roll out and for goodness sake don't listen to politicians who downplay its dangers. Naming no names, of course, but you know of whom I speak.

The book world reels from the effects of the year that shall not speak its name. Increased sales were reported - and not just in digital as you might expect but also in hard copies - but titles that were postponed will begin to appear. There remains a domino effect, though, for books that were perhaps due to hit the shelves this spring have been delayed.

I can vouch for this, for my Rebecca Connolly books generally surface in the UK around March but the third one will not see the light of day here until August. Good thing/bad thing, only time will tell.

(The second, by the by, hits US shelves on January 12 in hardback but I will regale you with that when next we are together.)

In the meantime, I am pressing on with something I am writing on spec. I've given myself until the end of January to complete a first draft because then I have to move onto the fourth in my series, which must be with the publisher by July. Failure to do so will result in a severe finger wagging and perhaps punishment, like being forced to read literary fiction. (I joke, don't write in).

So summing up - Happy New Year, everybody. Keep the faith, we can get through this. 

I must leave you now for Lord Mickey is pacing and it must be time for feeding. It's only a matter of time before Tom (the cat) surfaces from whatever warm spot he has found and goes on the demand. He does not like to be kept waiting.

Court in the Act

Ah, Scotland.

As you know, I'm a Scot, living in Scotland. And because many of you enjoyed the images last time (well, a number of you. Okay, a few. Fine! A couple) here's a taster of the delights:

The aptly-named Rest and Be Thankful

Not all if it looks like that, despite what the tourist board or Outlander may tell you. Yes, vast tracts of our 31k square miles and around 800 islands are picture postcard perfect, there's no denying it. We have mountains and valleys and lochs (one lake!) and green fields and rivers and beaches that can take the breath away. Usually by the weather. 

But there are a lot of misconceptions about my country.

We don't all wear kilts. We don't all look like Sam Heughan (no matter how much we suck in our gut). We don't all eat haggis regularly (they are tricky little rascals to catch). We don't all have the urge to go out and kill an Englishman when we hear the skirl of the pipes (although sometimes we do have the urge to kill the piper).

Not every part of my country looks like that above. There are areas that have absolutely no picturesque qualities at all. We have neighbourhoods that suffer from urban blight. We have crime.

It is our legal system that is arguably the least understood, even by Scots. We have seen and read so many legal dramas from the USA and England that there are many who do not know that, like the past, we do things differently.

For instance - juries. In Scotland they are 15 strong not 12, which means there can be no prospect of a hung jury. However, a judge can allow a trial to proceed with as few as 12 should any drop out due to illness. A majority here can be a straight 8 to 7, which means that if only one person believes guilt - or otherwise - the accused can be jailed. Or otherwise. 

Juries have three verdicts from which to choose - Guilty, Not Guilty and the controversial Not Proven. This is a holdover from the older system where charges were either Proven or Nor Proven. 

Our judges do not bang gavels and demand order. 

There are no opening statements. 

We do not have charges such as manslaughter or arson - they are culpable homicide and wilful fireraising. Other, more arcane, charges include hamesucken - home invasion today - and plagium - child stealing.

It was some of these differences that the Scottish Faculty of Advocates, the court service and forensic scientists wanted to illustrate in a courtroom drama in which I played a part. A real-life case was selected - one from the 1930s - and then adapted to fit a modern setting and names changed to be  presented in an actual courtroom during the Bloody Scotland crime writing festival in 2019 under the title You the Jury. 

Real lawyers played the advocates, a real judge presided, real court staff kept proceedings going, real forensic scientists played themselves and the jury was selected from the audience. I had put together the various witness statements and some of the evidence, the forensic experts handled their own. I also played the accused but did not give evidence. All I did was sit in the dock and look innocent or guilty, depending on your point of view.

Two performances were scheduled but they sold out within a matter of days so a third was slotted in. It sold out too.  

We had intended to take the show on the road but then 2020 happened and that was that. A charity event in Glasgow and almost two weeks at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe went by the board. 

One performance was filmed and the highly professional result, which has been made available for study in schools and colleges, was screened as part of this year's virtual Bloody Scotland Festival. It was again hugely popular.

In two of the three performances I was found Not Proven, which given the evidence presented was the best we could expect. It was, however, interesting to note that the evidence was presented in exactly the same way by the same advocates and witnesses each time and yet one jury was convinced of my guilt by a majority while the other two were not. They were not certain enough to vote Not Guilty, though, so the tricky third verdict proved useful to them. When someone could be sent away for life on the basis of a single vote, the Not Proven verdict is necessary, I believe.

It was a pleasure and an honour to work with the legal professionals and it was an incredible experience to watch it all come together in the single day rehearsal we had.

I am certain, though, if I'd had more to do than merely sit in the dock and look guilty, innocent or somewhere in between, we would have required a LOT more rehearsal time!

A rehearsal shot for You the Jury

Taking the show on the road

One of the things I love about being a writer is going on the road for book festivals and events.

I didn’t do much of that in my non-fiction days for some reason but when I started making stuff up I rediscovered my performing mojo.

I had lost said mojo for many years. As a teenager, I wanted to be an actor. This followed early ambitions to be an astronaut, a detective and a garbage collector. In pursuit of the world of make believe, I attended drama classes, performed in community theatre and wrote and appeared in comedy shows for hospital radio.

There was even a bit part in an episode of a TV show here in the UK. It was a drama for the BBC called ‘Sutherland’s Law’ and I played a drunken thief. No, it wasn’t typecasting. And yes, I would say that.

It was an exciting time. Filming for my scenes and others was done over a day and night near Oban on the west coast of Scotland. That episode’s guest star was Brian Cox, before he played Hannibal Lecktor (as they spelled it) on ‘Manhunter’ and answered the siren call of Hollywood.

He is a talented and erudite man who proved to be entertaining, funny and great to be around. There are long moments of inactivity on a shoot, unless you are on the crew, and he set himself up as morale officer as we sat in a mini bus waiting to be called.

It was after I saw myself on screen that I decided the likes of Mr Cox had nothing fear from my thespian talents.

I stopped performing altogether. Life took over; making a living, getting married, setting up a home.

Eventually the very thought of public speaking, let alone performing, filled me with horror.

That was, as I say, until I became involved with the fiction racket and had to get over myself.

Now I do a ten-minute bit when the fridge light comes on.

I’ve been all over Scotland for book festivals, events and shows with the two comedy/crime writing teams I work with. I’ve crossed the border to Newcastle and Bristol, both in England. I’ve even been to Spain for a show, which was great fun. I’ll tell you about those comedy/crimewriting teams in a future Type M for Murder.

Many authors love to meet readers, as long as they’re not telling us our books are nonsense. Some of us like to enteratin audiences not only on the page but on stage. We like to make audiences laugh. Off stage, though, I am actually quiet and reserved and not hugely sociable, which even I think is kinda strange given my antics in front of an audience.

All that activity came to a grinding halt this year, thanks to Covid-19, which has has been such a downer I don’t think I’ll binge watch the first 18. There were no festivals, no bookstore events, no comedy performances.

I had a great year lined up but one by one each of the events dropped like extras in a Tarantino movie. Yes, some have gone ahead in a digital format and they have been huge successes but you can't beat the excitement of being in the room with your audience. There's a  connection with live events that the internet just cannot replicate.

As I said, the suckage of 2020 has been immense.

It has also led to a curtailment of my photography.

Wherever I went I took my trusty Nikon camera (other brands are available, just not in my house) and I would click away like a snap happy chappy. It's landscapes mostly and I’ve included a few photographs here mostly from a trip to the isle of Mull last year, but that has been seriously curtailed this year, too, thanks to the C word.

For me, photography - and the editing of them afterwards - is strangely therapeutic. A writer's life is by necessity a solitary one and so is a photographer's. I prefer being on my own when at large with a lens because - frankly - I annoy non-photographers with this urge, no need, to stop every few miles, yards or feet to snatch a shot. And often more than one. 

So I hope festivals will resume when they can. I hope I will be invited and meet new readers. I hope I will grab new photographs! I hope our governments get on top of this crisis. I hope 2021 will see at least a partial return to normality for us all.

Towards the mainland from the Mull ferry

Lismore lighthouse

Oban

Tobermory

Kilchurn Castle on Loch Awe

Clouds gather on the road from Oban

St Conon’s Kirk

A beach on the isle of Arran

Ayr Harbour looking towards Arran

Wetlands around Wigtown

The marina in Javea, Spain

A medieval bridge in Javea

A winter shot near my home