Firth of Tay

The river is tidal for many miles upstream, and the current strong. To an observer on the southern shore the island midway across the estuary’s breadth is deceptively close. You might think you could swim to it, and explore undisturbed its unpeopled expanse. But whatever anecdote your reaching the island inspired, the journey back would … Continue reading Firth of Tay

“This time I will definitely do some writing while I’m on holiday”

Who am I kidding? Every holiday, I take pad and pen. Every holiday, they remain untouched. I think, though, that it's important I take them. It symbolises my intent. And if I don't actually put pen to paper, then I can spend time plotting and planning, right? Well, no. Not really. Not consciously, anyway. I … Continue reading “This time I will definitely do some writing while I’m on holiday”

The mapping problem

I've written about maps in fantasy fiction before. For every reader who enthuses and pores over a double-page spread of spidery waterways and jagged mountain ranges, there's another whose heart sinks at the OCD-level of detail, the neatness of it, the aura of omniscience. I'm currently reading "Passing Time" (l'emploi du temps) by Michel Butor. … Continue reading The mapping problem