Highs and Lows in the Highlands

Oh, if only I could tell you everything that happened on the latest round of book touring! The thing is that some of the most annoying or ridiculous things that happen tend to be perpetrated by either lovely people who buy my books or lovely librarians who organise the events, and would I be rude about either of them? Of course not. They are lovely in every way.

And this is before I've been to Wigtown, which is next weekend, and which is designated the "Book Festival Most Difficult To Get To". So, be prepared from some tall tales from Tipperary next week.

Meanwhile, on the subject of my recent events, I will pose some questions. Please keep your answers to yourself.

1. If you were asked to collect someone from Inverness arriving on the "11.47 from Aberdeen", would you go to the airport or the train station?
2. If you were a teacher and your school arrived 15 minutes after an event had started, despite the fact that you were walking distance away, would you apologise to the speaker?
3. If you were a teacher taking your pupils to a book event (at no cost to school or pupils), would you allow them to buy books or whisk them away as soon as possible before they could chat to the author, buy a book or get a card signed?
4. How many different colours of wallpaper is it possible for one B&B to fit into one room?
   
5. If you were supplying two tea-bags for your B&B guest, how many sachets of sugar would you also provide? a) 2-4 or b) 16

But I will say that, apart from the rubbish that tact and fear of litigation prevent me from mentioning, there were some spectacularly excellent things too.

1. Boat of Garten Book Festival - the best small festival there is.
2. Having a very relaxing lasagne supper with Jim Naughtie and his wife Ellie, between mine and Ellie's events and Jim's event with Chris Bonington (at Boat of G). I know Ellie well already because we both write for a similar age group and it's always fun to meet up.
   
3. The scenery and weather of Aberdeenshire, Banffshire and Invernesshire.
4. Seeing a herd of bison. And that was not after a glass of wine.
5. A great Society of Authors event in Crathes Castle, where 13 authors met and talked to (and in some cases almost came to blows with) an excellent feisty audience of readers collected together by the superb Yeadon's Bookshop in Banchory.
   
6. Everything to do with Yeadon's Bookshop and the first-rate and exceptional manager, Vicky Dawson, who ferried me all around NE Scotland in her car, so much so that when she needed to take me to the station the following morning, the car was dead. I don't blame it. But the ensuing taxi was somewhat pricey. And I left my coat in her car, thinking I'd be in it the next day. Yes, I was that person shivering on Inverness station a few hours later, while my lift went to the airport instead ...
7. Sitting in a hotel bar in Perthshire having hysterics while we wondered why a menu described as a "Taste of Tartan" featured tinned grapefruit salad in syrup.

And now I had really better stop before I forget about that very useful fear of litigation thing.

Back from foreign parts

Just back from an exhausting but really interesting trip to Zurich. I was speaking to teenagers in the Zurich International school - 12 hours of brain workshops over two days and then a parent talk to a packed hall on the next day. The school had put a huge amount of effort and resources into the whole trip and I am very grateful to them for making me so welcome. I was really impressed by the youth, energy and commitment of all the teachers too, but special thanks to Marge Schreier, the middle school librarian, and to Laurie Watt who organised the parent talk. And to all the parents who made Brain Cake in advance of my visit! The school also bought every pupil a copy of Know Your Brain and it was fantastic to see all the pupils eagerly reading it during the breaks.

I discovered something extremely unsurprising - teenagers are the same the world over... Something that was given extra truth when I stupidly switched on my phone during my first break and found a voice message from my own teenager (19 tomorrow) saying that she'd had her phone stolen the night before and what should she do? PHONE TO GET IT BLOCKED, you silly girl. So, I had that stress, including worrying whether the thief (who'd already been abusive to her when she tried to phone the phone) would rack up hundred of pounds worth of foreign calls or downloads (something which happened once before, luckily AFTER we'd reported it and so the phone company had to pay £300 for its mistake). Anyway, it was fine, but I didn't know that till I got home 4 days later. ERGHHHHH. I know I wrote a book about them but honestly!


I will calm myself down with this gorgeous view from
hotel window, looking over Lake Zurich.
Marge had especially asked for a lake view room.


Meanwhile, I've just been invited to an international
school in Paris next May. Hold me back!



On the other hand, I am SUPPOSED to be saying no to everything at the moment, to try to make space for writing. But I've just had a rush of lovely invitations for places far and wide and I'm not very good at no. Which could possibly be why I don't have a book coming out till next June. And a whole load of writing deadlines looming ...

Facebook group

Helped by my younger daughter, I have now entered the Facebook age, rather later than most people. If you know any teenagers (anyone from 11 upwards, really) who like my books, do steer them towards the group. It's called, with incredibly creative imagination, Nicola Morgan's Readers.

I am at that embarrassing stage where it sys I have "no friends". Help, please!

Tartan Loony

Well, that's the Edinburgh Book Festival over for another year. Anyone with a snorkel had a distinct advantage.

Now, there are many things I could say about my experiences this year. And some of them are simply not for public airing. (Oh, and can I say first that the festival is fabulous and any negative experiences do not at all imply any lack of wondrousness of the whole thing?) But gosh, the egos that parade around that authors' Yurt (aka large and splendiferous tent) can make you dizzy. Some authors are painfully full of their own importance. Others, of course, are just delightful.

But I would like to share my tartan loony moment. (The tartan loony wears tartan from his tam o'shanter to his shoes). He hadn't heard of the internet, so there's no danger of him reading this, just in case you were wondering. This is the guy who hi-jacked (for the third year in a row) one of my workshops, and spent it asking bizarre and pointless questions and being quite angry with me for actually having had some books published despite being an idiot.

To explain: I run some workshops for unpublished authors. This is a deeply frustrating business, as no one really listens to me. I tell them it's simple: write the right book at the right time and send it to the right publisher at the right time and in the right way. They only listen to the last bits but actually the first bits are way more important. Anyway, the tartan loony has been to these workshops before (so, I'm obviously doing a great job). But this time he chose to come to the one for published authors. Since he is nowhere near being published (having not yet written a book), I asked him why he hadn't come to the one for unpublished authors - "Because it was fully booked." Actually, he wasn't the only one - 24 out of 30 of the participants were also in the wrong one, which was thoroughly discombobulating.

By the way, in each workshop, there were several people who were actually doing all the right things and showed every chance of one day being successful writers. I hope they will tell me when they get their first contract.

Back to the TL. The TL asks many questions. He writes all the answers down, using a tartan shopping trolley as a table. When I say "many" I do mean many. But I will just give you one example:

TL: How long should a book be? (bear in mind, please, that this is the workshop for published authors).
Me: (thinking that the correct answer - "as long as it needs to be" - is not going to satisfy him) What sort of book?
TL: (thinking for a moment) Probably a novel.
Me: (deciding that a simple answer is definitely what he wants) 120,000 words
TL: Thank you. (and writes it down on his tartan clipboard)

Anyway, to the point. After the first workshop, I had told a fellow author (let's call him John) about the experience. So, when I turned up in the Yurt before the next one, I breezily said to John, "So, that's me ready for the tartan loony!" He looked at me, horror writ large on his face. The horror stayed there for several seconds. Then realisation and relief dawned. "Oh, you mean your workshop guy? I thought you meant ..."

Yes, I should have realised too. Sean Connery was about to do his event. And there he was, not a million miles away ... That's me off his party list, then. Shame.