Northwords Now

I'm excited to say that I have just had a short story published in the magazine 'Northwords Now.' The magazine is a free literary magazine that you can view online or pick up a copy of at various places throughout Scotland (see page 23 of the online version for places to find a hard copy).
I sent my story, Schrödinger’s Cat, off in October then found out just after Christmas that it had been chosen for selection. I have been waiting for the magazine to come out before telling people, just in case I jinxed it!
I started writing the story ages ago, but didn't really know what to do with it. The original version was almost all dialogue and it seemed to be missing something. I toyed with the idea of turning it into a radio play or something but never got round to doing it. Then, during my MA, I began to look more closely at the issue of dialect. My tutor asked me to try writing something in dialect, in the way that Irvine Welsh or Anne Donovan writes. It turned out that dialect was the missing element that Schrödinger’s Cat needed, and I was amazed at how the original story came to life by just making that change. My main character suddenly seemed to find a personality and a voice.
Anyway, if you want to read it, you can do so online here (page 15): Schrödinger’s Cat.
Or you can try and pick up a hard copy.
Hope you enjoy it!

Family Legend

The Scottish Book Trust are currently collecting stories about family legends - relatives who have achieved legendary status within your family. I have written one about my Granny and thought I would share the link to it here - Family Legend
I remember speaking to my mum's cousin once about Granny. She said to me 'Gerry was a great Auntie, but she must have been a brilliant Granny.' I always think about that, how lucky I was to have her as my Granny. And that's not to say that I loved her more than anyone else. She just fits this subject.
The Book Trust are collecting stories until the 31st March, so I urge you to join in.

Dog Woes and the Perils of Gumtree

Allan and I want a dog, and this weekend we almost got one. We contacted a girl on Gumtree who was selling her dog and went to see him on Sunday evening. Everything seemed perfect. The kind of dog we've been looking for. Young, medium size, playful, mongrel - a bit cautious of men but the girl assured us that he was fine once he got used to strangers. The girl seemed genuine and honest, she even admitted that the reason she was getting rid of her dog was because she was only 19, and didn't think she was mature enough to handle the responsibility. She offered him to us for £40 there and then, so we said yes but asked to come back in a couple of days to collect him.
Neither of us wanted to get our hopes up, and I think deep down we both knew it was too good to be true. Instead of preparing ourselves for our new arrival, the most we did was pick up an Asda leaflet on pet insurance. We didn't even tell anyone what was happening. I really liked the dog, but somehow I couldn't visualise him coming home with us. To paraphrase Star Wars, I had a bad feeling about it.
I texted the girl twice on Monday to arrange the pick-up but she didn't reply. She'd been really quick to respond before so I thought this was a bit strange. Then when I woke on Tuesday morning and switched my phone on, there was a text from someone claiming to be her boyfriend. He said that she had put the dog for sale in order to get back at him, and he wasn't very happy with her. I was disappointed but I wasn't shocked. Somehow, I knew something like this was coming. I was pissed off that we'd been messed about but I was more sad for that poor dog. For a split second I actually contemplated phoning the SSPCA, but that would probably just distress the dog more than anyone. The dog could do with his nails clipped and his eyes bathed, but he seemed a happy, healthy dog and it would be a shame to upset him.
I sent both the girl and her 'boyfriend' texts, which were civil but pissed off. I told them that I didn't appreciate being messed around, and that this obviously proved that neither of them were mature enough to take care of a dog and their dog deserved better.
I don't even really know if I believe the story we've been given, but I keep thinking what if we'd taken the dog on Sunday? Would the boyfriend have demanded him back? That would have been really confusing for the dog and we would have been even more disappointed if we'd taken him home then had to give him away. And what sort of girl sells her boyfriend's dog without telling him? What did he do that warranted that? And what will become of her now? And the dog? I hope he'll be okay. The scary thing was that the girl seemed so genuine. We were totally taken in by her. Looking back there were a few things that were a bit odd, but these are things you only recognise with hindsight.
Getting a dog is harder than I thought it would be. Allan and I would love a dog and we would give one a home for life, yet idiots like those two get to keep a dog and we can't seem to find one. Sigh.
The search for Catriona and Allan's dog continues...

On Your Marks...

The other day an old man tried to race me along the pavement, and it released a whole set of emotions in me. He wasn't even a fit-looking old man. He was frail and had a stooped, almost hunch back. He was also dragging along one of those tartan shopping trolley things behind him. We were walking side by side to start off with, heading towards a pedestrian crossing. I could see the lights turn red and the green man appear, but it was too far away for me to contemplate running to try and make it. The old man however did make an attempt to catch it. My first emotion was scorn. A sort of 'if I can't make that, you're never going to make it' sort of feeling. He didn't make the green man, and I felt guilty for mocking his attempt and for feeling so superior. We both ended up at the edge of the pavement waiting for the next green man. When it came he took off across the road leaving me to eat his dust, his shopping trolley clattering behind him. As soon as he hit the opposite pavement he stopped dead and started walking very slowly again, which meant that I almost walked right into the back of him. So I side-stepped around him and started to overtake. He was having none of it and this was when the race started. He began to run again, refusing to let me get past. This irritated me, and I sped up too but then I felt silly for rising to the challenge so I let him go. So he slowed down again. So I attempted to overtake once more. So he sped up again. Unfortunately for him, he was blocked by someone coming in the opposite direction at this point, so he had to stop (basket and all) while I strode on to victory. At this point, I was all 'ha, in your face!' As I got closer and closer to our destination (shop), I could hear him struggling to catch me again, his footsteps on the pavement and his shopping trolley being dragged behind him. Then the whole situation suddenly made me feel sad. I thought about how in his head he probably still felt like a boy, and it must suck not to have your body be able to do things it used to be able to do. I walk everywhere, usually at quite a brisk pace. I worked as a postie for two summers during uni, and ever since then I don't seem to be able to walk slowly. I sometimes get walking rage on the way to work if I get stuck behind someone slower than me. Anyway, it made me think how one day I might be the one getting frustrated at being overtaken by someone in the street. That made me a little freaked out, and also reminded me of what my granny used to say about how quickly old age creeps up on you, so you should appreciate being young while you still can. For a five minute walk to the shop, it was an eventful journey.