Writing is a lonely business… Right?

Most of the time, anyway, so when the opportunity comes to meet up with other writers, I’m interested. There is nothing quite like talking books with folk who not only understand your passion (your family might just manage that on occasion) but share it. And are happy to spend hours swopping stories and experiences, good… and bad.

And when there’s also the chance to listen, chat to and rub shoulders with high-profile authors and other industry professionals, including agents and publishers, for 2 whole days, I’m right at the front of the queue.

Add in a lovely hotel, which, joy of joys, I’m reliably informed understands how to cater for a gluten-free diet and I’m hooked.

Which is why on the 22^nd-24^th September I’m heading for the ScotsWrite conference at the Westerwood Hotel, Cumbernauld. The location may sound less than exotic, but the hotel is situated in the middle of a golf course, with lovely views to the hills – what’s not to like. Oh, and I’m bringing my swimming costume –

their pool might be the best chance I have for a swim in Scotland this summer!

And my dancing shoes – for the ceilidh on the Saturday night.

Of course the main attractions are the keynote speakers – I’ve not had the chance to hear

Joanne Harris  before so I’m really looking forward to that, as well as lots more in the very varied programme, which has something to suit everyone’s needs.

I shall be signing up for one-to-one sessions as soon as they are released, for the chance to get face-to-face feedback is invaluable.

I’m also tempted by the workshops on   Scrivener – though I’m not sure whether a confirmed technophobe such as myself could cope…

‘Pain-free writing – the ergonomic workspace’ is definitely something I need to learn more about, but I’m hoping the all-day, drop in CPR training isn’t because I’ll be so busy (and excited) it will put a strain on my heart!

Don’t we all want to know what makes a publisher fall in love with a novel? I certainly do, and I’m sure Jane Johnson’s insights will prove valuable.

So notebook at the ready, here I come.

Winston Graham was one of the three novelists who most influenced my decision to write historical fiction. (The others were Daphne du Maurier and Dorothy Dunnett.)

So imagine my delight this morning to find A House Divided  sitting next to Demelza in the Paid Kindle Top 100 in Family Saga on Amazon.AU  That had to be worth a screen shot…

#One guest interview and one guest blog post in the past 10 days, and in both I’ve confessed to (you’ve guessed it) my love of chocolate. Indeed it is an essential part of my writing life.

Here they are:

http://thereview2014.blogspot.co.uk/2017/06/diana-talks-to-margaret-skea.html

An interesting selection of questions here – and a couple that I definitely had to ‘pass’ (well I still have to live with my family, you understand). Thanks to Diana Milne, whom I met properly at HNS 2016, for the opportunity to chat to her.

And thank you to Mairead for the chance to feature on the #IrishWritersWed slot on her Swirl and Thread blog.

http://www.swirlandthread.com/irishwriterswed-margaret-skea/

Clearly, I’m not the only one who sees the value of chocolate – must be the serotonin or endorphins or something…

I’ve lived in the Scottish Borders for over thirty years, about fifty miles south of Edinburgh. We visit Edinburgh a lot and I couldn’t count how many times I’ve walked along Princes Street – usually on the gardens side as it’s (fractionally) less busy than the shops side. It’s a rather attractive setting – Salisbury Crags and Arthur’s Seat in the background, the castle and the old stone tenements of the Royal Mile towering over the sunken gardens, the Walter Scott monument (yes I’ve climbed it, several times), and the Art Gallery at the foot of the Mound. At the East end, Carlton Hill dominates the skyline, while at the West on one corner there is St John’s Church and opposite it a rather impressive red sandstone hotel. In December there is a Christmas Market and ice skating and at New Year the fireworks display in the gardens is a sell-out. During the festival in August, Princes Street and the Royal Mile buzz with street performers and stalls of every kind and every few yards someone thrusts a flyer into your hand for one of the hundreds of performances taking place in venues across the city.

What does all that have to do with Battenberg for tea?  There is one constant on  Princes Street whether the sun is shining or the rain is pelting down onto the pavements and only a handful of people scurry along, heads bent against the wind. The piper. Sometimes you will find one at the entrance to the gardens opposite Waverley Station, sometimes in front of the Art Gallery, but it is rare to walk along Princes Street and not hear the sound of the bagpipes swelling in the background.

Combine that thought with a little café near the foot of the Royal Mile, a shop sign I saw once for ‘the support of Indigent Gentlewomen’ (what a wonderful phrase) and a cake that I loved as a child, but which I don’t often see nowadays and the character of Jean was born; along with her economic problems and the rather sad and unintended consequences of the solution that her lawyer suggests.

For me that is often the way stories come about – a fragment here and a fragment there that put together make a completely new whole.

Battenberg for Tea is one of the few stories in the collection Dust Blowing and Other Stories that I’ve never tried to place anywhere, so this is its debut. Signed copies of the collection (UK only) can be ordered here. They are also available in both Paperback and e-book format via Amazon, Kobo, Nook, etc and bookshops.

Celebrity Staus

This story is also set in East Belfast, where I moved following my marriage.

We bought a three-storey terrace house which was quite up-market of its kind – in that at the front it had about four feet of concrete and a small wall separating our space from the pavement, rather than a door opening straight onto the street, as houses around the corner did.  At the back it had a traditional yard, possibly about 12 feet by 6, which opened onto a cinder lane. (Handy for taking out the bins.)

The story opens with the phrase It was a headline in the paper,  and it actually was a headline that first gave me the idea. At that time in Northern Ireland dogs had to be licenced,  yet there was no provision for exotic pets, however large or dangerous. And, famously, there was a precedent for someone keeping a big cat, though I’ve no idea what happened in that real-life case.

Looking out at our yard it was a very small step to speculating about who might want a tiger, and what the consequences might be. It wasn’t hard to imagine that it mightn’t end well…

At one stage I submitted this story to Radio Ulster for the 15 minute short story slot. The response was interesting – the editor who’d read it loved it but said that it wouldn’t get past the top person in London unless I cared to change the ending. I declined, so sadly what might have been my radio debut never happened and this story lay in the proverbial ‘desk drawer’ waiting for an opportunity to be used. This was the first story I’d written in the 1st person and the first time I attempted a very distinctive voice. It remains for the reader to decide whether I succeeded or failed.

It is now part of my new collection Dust Blowing and Other Stories, more information / signed copies are available here.