Or – How To Set Magic In Scotland, Even If Your Scotland Has Shrunk…

Two lovely things have happened to me in the last fortnight. First, a story I wrote in the spring about midwinter, called The Holly and the Ivy, went up on the BBC Scotland Learning website. And second, I did an online Q&A with a wonderfully creative and curious class in West Lothian, as part of their project to answer the question: Can Anyone Be an Author?

Those two lovely things did a wee dance together in my head and made me think about how circumstances can make ‘being an author’ more difficult.

Because, up until four years ago, my cheerful ‘YES, of course, anyone can be an author (if they love stories and are prepared to put in the effort)’ would not have taken into account the particular challenges some potential writers may have. 

One of my usual tips to kids keen to be authors (after the most essential: ‘read lots’) was ‘put down the books, get outside, have lots of adventures and an interesting life so you have things to write about!’ Which I now realise was a naive and and ableist thing to say. Because some people can’t get outside and have adventures, for reasons connected to health, access, resources etc. That doesn’t mean they aren’t having interesting lives, and it certainly DOES mean that their voices and stories are even more vital.

Why have I (finally) realised that, in the last four years? Because I have long covid. Because now I’m disabled, and I can’t do most of the things I used to do. That online Q&A would have been a school visit four years ago, but I can’t easily visit schools nowadays. And I can’t get out and have adventures easily either.

A few years ago, pre-covid, I travelled from Edinburgh to the west coast of Skye and back in one day, to do one hour of research, for one scene in a novel. (A novel I have not yet finished, due to long covid…) Nowadays, it takes me more planning and effort to visit my local bookshop than it used to take to travel to the Isle of Skye, and that bookshop trip might exhaust me for a week.

So, have I stopped writing? Have I stopped researching?

I have to admit, even before that ‘can anyone be an author’ project last week, there have been times in the last few years when I have been asking myself difficult questions. Can anyone be an author, if they have to deal with personal challenges? Can anyone be an author, if their life has changed completely? Can I still be an author? Will long covid stop me being an author?

The answers have been hard to find at times, but I’m delighted to stay that long covid has not stopped me being an author. I am still writing, I am still sharing stories with kids, I am still researching. I’m just doing ‘being an author’ differently.  

I’m writing in short bursts, slowly, with lots of rests, and very long deadlines. I’m writing short fiction: a picture book, The Tall Tale of the Giant’s Causeway; Scot translations like Hansel and Gretel in this Grimm collection; the short story for the BBC. I am still working on long fiction too, like that novel, with that one scene on Skye, but … it’s … so … slow…

I am still doing author events, but I’m doing far fewer, and I’m doing them online.

I’m still doing location research too, because I like nice solid landscape beneath my feet when I’m looking for inspiration to create magical stories. But I can’t go nearly so far from home, without exhausting myself for so long that I’d struggle to write the story I been researching. 

So, the BBC story – about the midwinter battle between the Holly King and Oak King, with a sneaky bit of business by the Ivy Queen – is set on the cycle-path in Edinburgh. It’s set five minutes from my house, so it was relatively easy for me to research. As a bonus, setting it on the cycle-path means I’m using wild areas in a city, rather than rural ones, showing kids who don’t have access to rural areas that they can imagine magical tales near their homes too.  

My available Scotland has shrunk, but it’s still there and it’s still inspiring my stories…

And I’m learning that ‘Yes, anyone can be an author, though sometimes circumstances make it more challenging’.

Just as everyone has different life experiences and interests which make their voices and stories unique, so everyone has different challenges and circumstances, which means that being a writer is different for everyone. So what works for me as a writer won’t work for everyone. (It doesn’t even work particularly well for me any more!)

Yes, anyone can be an author, if they want to be. Some of us climb mountains to find our stories, and some of us find inspiration in our back gardens or even our bedrooms … and that’s ok.

Everyone’s story, however they tell it, is unique and valuable.

If you want to hear me telling the story of The Holly and the Ivy – here it is, illustrated by the wonderful Eilidh Muldoon.

I’ve written a book! I know, that shouldn’t be surprising, because I am a writer… But I’ve been struggling with long covid since March 2020, so I’m doing everything very slowly right now. Which means that I’m almost as surprised and delighted about this book appearing on the shelves as I was about my very first novel getting published! 

And it’s not a wee small quiet kind of book either. It’s a GREAT BIG LOUD GIANT BOOK! With great big huge giants shouting, stomping, shaking the earth, throwing rocks, having arguments, and also … running away when they’re scared, and dressing up as babies.

It’s the Tall Tale of the Giants’ Causeway, a retelling of the traditional folktale about Irish giant Finn McCool and Scottish giant Benandonner, and how their daft arguments lead them to build a rocky causeway between Scotland and Ireland. It’s also the story of how Finn’s clever wife Oona gets everyone to the end of the story without a fight or worse injury than a bitten finger. It has teddies, tricks and superbly hairy eyebrows!

It also has spectacular illustrations, by debut illustrator Emilie Gill. It was a tough challenge, asking her to make these giants comical (to fit with the folktale) but also splendid (to fit with the glorious illustrations in other books in the series, like the Secret of the Kelpie and the Legend of the First Unicorn).

It’s always a nerve-wracking moment for an author, seeing their precious characters in the illustrator’s sketches for the first time, but when I saw these pictures, I know Emilie had captured Finn and Benandonner perfectly!

This is the first re-telling I’ve done with Floris Books which isn’t set only in Scotland. It’s based on an Irish folktale, with one Scottish character, so just like the giants’ causeway in the book, it links Scotland and Ireland across the sea. And because it’s a story set in both countries, starring giants from both countries, I’ve tried to make it a bit more balanced than the original tales. The original tends to end when the Irish giants ‘win’, but I kept the story going a wee bit longer, so that everyone could find a satisfying ending.

You’d think that basing a story on an existing traditional tale would mean that at least I wouldn’t have to spend time choosing character names. But almost every single version of the story I found had different spellings for Finn McCool, and there were a couple of different possible names for his wife (Oona / Oonagh or Grainne) and an absolute confusion of possible names for the Scottish giant (Far Rua, Goll, Benandonner, Cucullin…). So, along with all the other decisions I usually have to make when retelling a trad tale in picture book form (where to begin, where to end, how much peril and danger can I get away with for this age group, how much backstory and motivation do we need, how do I make it short enough to fit in a picture book and still make sense, does the language work when read out loud, how can I structure the narrative to give the artist the opportunity to draw as many spectacular pictures as possible…?)  I also had to choose what names to give the giants. Eventually, my editor and I went with simplest spelling of Finn McCool, the most commonly used name for Oona, and most fun to say out loud name for Benandonner…

Usually, when a nice shiny new book comes out, I visit lots of schools and libraries and book festivals and caves and causeways to share the story and hear your ideas, but long covid means that I can’t get out and about very much. So my publishers and I have created a virtual event, with me reading the book, showing you Emilie’s amazing giants and giving you some tips about writing your own giant stories. If you’re interested in watching the event, please email me on info@laridon.co.uk

I hope you enjoy our meeting our giants!

It’s been almost a year since I posted anything on my blog. And here’s why:

I have long covid, which means that I caught the virus (last March, just before the first lockdown) and that I haven’t got better yet. I’ve spent the last 10 months struggling with exhaustion, brain fog and various chest problems. Because this is such a new thing, no one can tell me how to treat it or when it will go away.

But this post isn’t meant to be a medical moan. I just wanted to update you about what I’m doing as a writer, because lovely people have been asking concerned questions, and because I’m not answering tweets or emails very fast at the moment.

When I was knocked flat by covid, I was in the middle of writing the first novel of a new trilogy, but I had to put that manuscript back on the shelf in March and haven’t done anything particularly useful to it since. I have very little energy and very little focus, and the brain fog means that I sometimes forget things (like characters’ names, or why they went into an underground chamber, or what the word for that long sharp pointy thing is…) which makes writing an adventure story impossible.

However, there is good news. I’m not actually getting any better (still exhausted, still sore, all that boring stuff) but I am getting better at working round the symptoms. So I can now find a sliver of time most days when I have a wee bit of energy and a wee bit of focus, and I’m using that time to write again! (This blog is proof that I am managing sentences again.)

But I don’t just want to write blog posts. I want to write STORIES and NOVELS!

I’m nowhere near trilogy-writing capacity yet – my head still can’t hold a story which stretches across three books – so I’m being sensible and starting small.

I’m working on short fiction. I’m playing with picture books and retellings.

I’m not doing much on any particular day, and I’m doing it slowly and cautiously, but I hope that working steadily on short fiction will help me build up my writing muscles again, so that eventually I’ll be able to get back to novels and trilogies and great big magical adventures!

So, hang in there, be patient, and there will be book news on my website again eventually!  (I’m saying that to myself, as much as to anyone else…)

I should admit that this isn’t my first attempt to write short fiction while struggling with covid symptoms. Last spring, when I was confident I would bounce back from the virus in weeks rather than months (or years), I agreed to write a story for Cranachan’s Stay At Home collection of stories for lockdown. But to be honest, I adapted a story I’d already written, and now, several months later, I have virtually no memory of adapting it or submitting it. I’m almost scared to reread it, in case it’s complete rubbish! The rest of the book is lovely though…

It’s been a tough year for us all, and I’m sending my best wishes to everyone, because we’ve all faced our own individual difficulties during the pandemic. I hope you all stay well and safe, and I hope we can share stories again together soon.

(I’ve tried to be upbeat and optimistic in this post, because I am cautiously confident that I will write books again soon. But as well as an assertion of hope, you can also read this post as a warning about just how serious this virus is, and just how much damage it can do to creativity and career as well as to health. So, please wear your facemasks and follow the restrictions!)

I have 2 books being published in the space of a couple of weeks this spring.

The Legend of the First Unicorn – a picture book about the origins of Scotland’s national animal, written by me and illustrated by Nataša Ilinčić – comes out on 20 Feb (though most of the launch excitement will be around National Unicorn Day on 9 April.)

Fierce Fearless & Free – a collection of traditional tales about strong girls defeating their own monsters and solving their own problems, retold by me and illustrated by Eilidh Muldoon – comes out on 5 March, just before International Women’s Day on 8 March .

So why does that add up to a busy spring? I’ve already imagined, pitched, researched, drafted, written, edited and proofread the books. Surely I can just move onto the next book now?

Well, not really. It would be a bit daft to put all that work (at least a couple of years’ work, for each of them, in amongst writing novels…)  into any book, and then not bother to tell people about it!

So, over the next few weeks and months I will be:

appearing at various festivals

doing author events and signings in bookshops

visiting schools

writing blog posts

writing articles

doing radio interviews

and spending slightly too much time on Twitter …

All to share my excitement about the books, tell people about the books and perhaps encourage people to buy the books (though remember you can borrow my books from libraries for FREE…)

And it’s all very time-consuming, especially when I have a deadline for the next novel (shh, I’m not allowed to tell people out it yet!) later this spring. But it’s also great fun. I love sharing stories, and seeing readers’ reactions to new books.

I hope to meet some of you at events (check out my diary…) or hear feedback about what you think of the two new books!

I always discover something new at the Edinburgh International Book Festival. But not usually about my own books!

This year, however, I was astonished to discover something new about the creative process behind The Treasure of the Loch Ness Monster.

I did an event with the lovely Sara Sheridan about our two different picture books based on the same monster – Nessie.

We both intended to start the event with a short visual presentation about how our books were created. But my writing process is mostly scribbles on bits of paper, which isn’t that compelling visually. So I asked the illustrator of the Treasure of the Loch Ness Monster, the amazing Nataša Ilinčić, if she had any pictures of her creative process I could show, because her process is obviously more visual than mine.

I expected a few sketches of Nessie’s evolution, as Nata worked the shape and character of the monster, and perhaps some sketches of her background research. She did send those, and they were fantastic.

But she also sent a few photos which just blew my mind.

I discovered that when she was sketching the treasure chamber under Castle Urquhart, she actually built a 3D paper model of the chamber!

Look…

She didn’t just sketch the treasure chamber. She MADE it. Then she put it in front of a window to get the light and the perspective right, in the sketch, then in the illustration.

Isn’t that amazing? Isn’t that just so… magical? But also, really practical!

I feel overwhelmingly privileged that Nata put so much effort and thought and creativity into just one page of our book!

So, that’s what I learnt from this year’s book festival. Nataša Ilinčić is practical and magical and amazing. And we can never know how much work goes on behind the scenes of a picture or a scene or a chapter of a book…

I’m delighted to let you know that Nataša is currently working on the illustrations for our next book together: The Legend of the First Unicorn. I wonder what practical magic she’s building in her studio right now?

 

I love winter. I love frost-patterned windows, ice-rimmed leaves, brisk cold air, seeing my breath ahead of me, and wearing hats and gloves and scarves. I’m definitely a winter person rather than a summer person.

My love of winter inspires my books. For example, I’ve written a collection of winter tales from around the world, with lovely crisp silhouette illustrations by Francesca Greenwood.

I loved researching this book, and discovering how winter is viewed in different cultures. In some (colder) parts of the world, winter is the baddie, killing the friendly warmth of summer; in other (hotter) areas, winter is the goodie, saving people from the vicious heat of summer. Also I got to retell stories about wolves, polar bears, eagles, reindeer, trolls, and the only really positive story I ever tell about spiders.

 

Winter inspires my fiction too: I’ve set a couple of my Scottish adventure novels in cold Scottish winters.

First Aid for Fairies is set around the winter solstice, though in keeping with my experience of most Scottish Decembers, the weather during Helen’s first adventure with the Fabled Beasts is cold and wet (including raining on one of Helen’s violins!) but not actually snowy.

 

The final book of the Spellchasers trilogy, The Witch’s Guide to Magical Combat, is set in February, which is often colder than December, so I wrote a fight scene set in a blizzard, with sharp snowflakes used as weapons again Molly, Innes and their friends. And this book has a beautiful icy blue cover!

 

Even though my other novels are set in spring, summer and autumn, I often do my location research in the winter, during the Christmas or February holidays.

So when I was researching Storm Singing (which is set in the autumn) I was trapped in the snow on a steep road in Sutherland. And when I was researching Maze Running (set in spring) I was nearly blown off a cliff during a winter storm, and I dragged my kids up a hill on a freezing cold Christmas Eve to time how long it took a flower to float down seven waterfalls. (They have never entirely forgiven me…) So when I reread those books, I’m always reminded of winter!

Of course the best thing about winter isn’t the weather outside, it’s curling up inside, with a warm blanket and perhaps a purring cat and a hot drink, to read a shiny new book. I hope to do lots of warm reading this winter.

But I will also be researching and writing more books over the winter months. And I’ve just realised that my  current books are set in spring, summer and autumn. It’s definitely time to come up with some new wintry story ideas!

It’s March, and I have a new book out this month!

I’m really excited about The Treasure of the Loch Ness Monster. It’s a picture book inspired by traditional Loch Ness folklore, with wonderful illustrations by the amazing Natasa Ilincic.

I admit that this is not a book I ever thought I would write (though I could say that about most of my books!) I’ve lived near Loch Ness, but I’ve never seen a monster there, and I’m not sure I’ve ever believed in a monster either.

But I do believe in the power of stories. And I’m a big fan of questions too… Does Nessie exist? If she did exist what would she look like, what would she care about, what would she want, what would she prepared to do to get it? If you met Nessie how would you react and what would happen next? (These are the sorts of questions I ask about all my characters, whether they are huge and green or not.)

I’ve had the opportunity to explore all those questions and more in this picture book. I also did lots of folklore research, which I love.

This book is a companion to The Tale of Tam Linn and The Secret of the Kelpie, as part of Floris Books Traditional Scottish Tales range, but it presented very different problems.

The Tale of Tam Linn is based on one Borders folktale. There are many versions of the tale of Janet and Tam Linn, but the heart of the story is always the same. So my challenge was to find the best way to retell that story for a picture book.

There are lots of different kelpie folktales from all over Scotland, so for The Secret of The Kelpie my challenge was to create a new story that reflected lots of different bits of kelpie lore.

But as soon as I started to discuss a Nessie book with my wonderful editor, Eleanor, I banged up against one great big monster-sized problem. There isn’t a Nessie myth or legend or folktale. There is an old story, from more than a thousand years ago, about a saint driving away a water monster in the loch, but that monster had just eaten a local man, so I don’t think that’s the Nessie we know and love.

There are lots of glimpses and partial sightings of Nessie, lots of rumours and mysteries about her. But there is no authentic, full-length, story-shaped traditional tale.

So, I started reading more widely (getting to read lots as part of your job is one of the best things about being a writer) and I found a little snippet of folklore about treasure under the castle overlooking Loch Ness. I started to wonder about that treasure and the magic guarding it, and what Nessie’s connection might be to the treasure. Then I started to imagine some children who were prepared to take risks to get that treasure.

And that’s when I had a story. A mysterious monster, a dangerous treasure? Both of those were great. But it wasn’t until I met Ishbel and Kenneth that I had a story I wanted to tell.

I also met Natasa. (She’s real: I met her in a café; Ishbel and Kenneth aren’t real: I met them in my head.) Natasa is a wonderful, magical, wise artist. She has created a classically beautiful Nessie, but also given Kenneth and Ishbel all the character and cheekiness and courage that I could have hoped for. (And she has created the most amazing treasure chamber ever!)

And you don’t have to wait very long to meet Natasa’s Nessie, go on an adventure with Ishbel and Kenneth, and find out all about The Treasure of the Loch Ness Monster!

The book is published on the 22nd of March, and you’ll be able to find it or order it in all good bookshops and libraries.

And I’d love to know what you think of it!

 

 

 

 

I ask my characters difficult questions all the time: ‘how are you going to get out of this trap, how are you going to defeat this monster, who do you trust, what kind of magic user do you want to be…?’ So I thought it would only be fair to let the main Spellchasers characters ask me a couple of awkward questions in return.

(nb – I’ve tried not to give away too many spoilers, but if you don’t like to know too much about a book before you read it, you should probably read the Spellchasers trilogy before you read this post)

Molly

Q – Why did you choose to turn me into a small vulnerable hare?
A – Hares are beautiful, fast and very hard to catch. Also, there are lots of old stories from the north of Scotland about women transforming into hares, so it felt authentic. Finally, the witch who cursed you was obsessed with dogs, so it made sense for him to turn you into something that dogs like to chase. Is there an animal you’d have preferred to be? Mouse, snake, goat, worm, perhaps?

Q – Why did Beth dislike me so much when she first met me?
A – She was afraid you would slow the curse-lifting workshop down, and prevent her lifting her own curse. She has never really trusted humans, because humans can be very damaging to trees. Also, to be honest, Beth can be quite grumpy at times. I suspect she doesn’t make friends easily. (Just ask Snib…)

Innes

Q – Why are you so negative about kelpies eating their natural diet of human beings?
A – Because I’m a human being, and so are all my family and friends who live near your rivers! (Here, have a biscuit…)

Q – Am I the hero of this story? I’m the best warrior, so I should be the hero!
A – It’s Molly’s story… And you all work as a team (some of the time, anyway) so it’s not about one of you being more of the hero than anyone else. But you all get to be the heroes and heroines of your own subplots and your own part of the huge battle at the end.

Q – Do I ever get to beat Molly in a race?
A – Probably not! Perhaps the only way you’ll ever beat her is to see if she can shapeshift into a horse, and race as exactly the same animals. Or you could challenge her to an underwater race?

Beth

Q – Why are you so obsessed with dark magic, and with characters who use dark magic?
A – Probably because stories with a little bit of darkness are more exciting, to read and to write. And because you get so upset about dark magic, which is also fun to write…

Q – You feel sympathy for the witch who burnt my trees, don’t you? How dare you take her side rather than mine?
A – Yes I do. She was tortured and executed in a genuinely horrible way, and her curse on your trees was a panicked reaction to that. I don’t think she did the right thing, but I do feel sympathy for her and the circumstances under which she did it. The true history of how people accused of being witches (people who weren’t really magical at all) were treated in Scotland hundreds of years ago is really nasty and distressing, and I couldn’t write a trilogy about witches without recognising that. So, yes, I do feel sympathy for Meg Widdershins. But I’m not taking one side or the other, I’m trying to see both sides. Something which you very rarely do, Beth…

Atacama

Q – Why do I have a job, when all my friends get to go to school and take holidays?
A – Oh, sorry! I wanted you to have a connection with riddles (because I love riddles!) and guarding a door to somewhere important, using a riddle as the password, made sense for your character and for the wider story. And I didn’t think you’d be guarding a door as a hobby, so I had to make it your job. Which I know meant you had to dash off to work quite a lot. Sorry. But I did give you a few catnaps as well. And as for not going to school – you have much more magical knowledge than either Innes or Beth, so you must be doing a lot of reading!

Q – And why do I work at a distillery?
A – Because I grew up in a house beside a distillery, and saw pyramids of casks every day when I was young. So when I needed somewhere that felt right for a sphinx in Speyside, I decided that you and your family would be guarding a door beside my own local pyramids…

The toad / Theo

Q – Innes shifts into an elegant powerful horse; I transform into a clumsy warty toad. That doesn’t seem fair.
A – Kelpies have evolved to take on shapes that lure humans to the water, so their out-of-water forms have to be attractive. You were cursed to become a toad, so your form was meant to be insulting to you. Also, Innes has tentacles when he’s under the water, therefore he’s not elegant all the time!

Q – Why do you keep denying me the chance to use my full magical powers?
A – Partly because you have the potential to be so powerful that if you had your full powers right from the start you would probably defeat the baddies and shut the story down too fast. And partly because you are more interesting as a character and more fun to write when you are having problems. And honestly, I didn’t want to unleash your full powers until the battle at the very end.

Snib

Q – I joined the story really late, so am I a member of the Spellchasers team or not? I don’t get my symbol on the cover.
A – I think you have to decide that for yourself, and work out whether you can really be friends with people if you don’t tell them the truth about what you are doing…

Q – Why are you so cruel to your characters? You always take away the thing that means the most to them, like my wings.
A – Am I cruel? I suppose I am. I took your flight, Atacama’s riddle, and Theo’s power… But if I hadn’t taken something you really care about, you wouldn’t have a reason to go on dangerous adventures and face difficult obstacles to get it back. And I needed you to do that so I could write an exciting story. If I am cruel to my characters, if I take something you love and force you to take risks to get it back (and yes I realise that is horrible, sorry), then at least you know it’s all for the story and the readers…

A shorter version of this post was put up on the Discover Kelpies website during the Spellchasers blog tour in October, and some of the additional questions above came from our request for even trickier questions! I’d be happy to add more awkward questions if you want to suggest any! Possibly a few questions from the baddies?

(And if you liked these awkward questions from the Spellchasers characters, you might enjoy this set of difficult questions from Helen, Yann and the other Fabled Beast characters)

I’ve been working with the pupils at Pirniehall Primary in Edinburgh as their Writing Mentor this year, and they all created wonderful illustrations for this Christmas story about Molly. Here are the seven winning illustrations, which bring the story to life beautifully!

Pawprints in the Snow

Molly’s paws made tiny dents on the crust of last night’s snow.

She had wished for a white Christmas, hoping to test her hare-speed on a new surface. But she hadn’t wished for the beast behind her. The creature she’d found chewing her stocking this morning.Now Molly could hear heavy breathing and heavier feet. It was catching up.
She felt hot breath on her neck; snow melted to water under her paws.

Molly leapt to the left, and her paws were back on cold crusty snow. She sprinted and zig-zagged across the rugby pitch, trying to escape the heat and the heaviness, the flames and the fangs.

The noise of the feet faltered, and stopped.

But Molly couldn’t stop running, because now she could hear flapping above her. Her wide hare vision showed that her pursuer had lumbered into the air and was swooping down towards her.

Speed wasn’t enough to beat this beast. Dodging and ducking wouldn’t work either, if it could hover above her.

How could she beat a predator that could run and fly and melt the snow under her?

Molly sprinted and leapt and sprinted again, hoping to confuse it, hoping to escape its long claws and hot breath.

She was used to magic and monsters in the wild lands of the north, but she hadn’t expected them to follow her south to the sensible streets of Edinburgh. She especially hadn’t expected to find a monster in her living room, chewing the end of her Christmas stocking.

When she had walked into the living room, her first thought had been: don’t you dare eat my chocolate coins! Her second thought had been: I don’t want mum and dad to see this, and I don’t want this to see mum and dad. Her third thought had been: RUN! So she had flung open the back door and shifted into a hare in one practised move.

It wasn’t until she had been running down the back garden, drawing the beast away from both her chocolate coins and her parents, that she finally thought: what’s a dragon doing in my living room?

But now, Molly wished she’d found somewhere small to hide rather than somewhere wide to run. She circled and dodged and zigged and zagged across the school’s rugby field, and the dragon swooped and dived and soared above her.

Though, so far, it hadn’t tried to roast her or bite her.

Molly realised it wasn’t a very big dragon. It had seemed huge in the living room, but compared to the wyrm she’d met in Speyside in October, it was really quite small.

Perhaps she could fight it off.

Not as a hare. Hares can only run and punch. As a girl. Girls can wield weapons.

So she ran for the nearest fence, dived between the black iron railings, and became a girl again as she skidded along the icy ground.

That’s when she realised she was still wearing her pyjamas, and rabbit-printed cotton doesn’t give much protection against ice or snow. Or dragons.

She leapt to her feet, grabbed a long forked stick from the snowy ground and waved it at the pursuing dragon.

Who was no longer pursuing.

The golden dragon was perched on the tall spiked fence, back feet gripping the rail along the top, front feet tucked up almost like a squirrel’s paws. The metal fence was bending slightly under the dragon’s weight.

Molly shouted, “Go away!” and waved her stick.

The dragon was the size of a lion, or a tiger. Much bigger than a dog, slightly smaller than a horse. Definitely smaller than the wyrm Molly had chatted to in October.

So Molly waved her stick again. “Go away!”

The dragon’s shoulders sagged and its long spiky tail drooped.

Then the dragon fell clumsily backwards off the fence, landed on the rugby pitch, and blasted a long line of flame from its mouth. Molly backed off, planning to run the long way home, lock all the doors, and find the fire extinguisher from the kitchen.

But then she saw what the dragon was doing with the flame. The thin precise flame was melting shapes in the same snow Molly had marked with her zig zag line of pawprints. The dragon was writing words in the snow.

HELP, CURSE-BREAKER, HELP ME

Molly didn’t run away. She leant over the fence and asked, “You want me to help you?”

The dragon nodded, and perked up a bit, its golden tail wagging like a retriever’s. Then it swooped low along the edge of the rugby pitch, melting the snow with a long pen-like line of flame.

HELP ME BREAK MY CURSE. CURSED BY ANGRY WITCH – IF I BURN ANYTHING ELSE THIS YEAR, I WILL BURST INTO FLAMES MYSELF, TURN TO SMOKE & BLOW AWAY IN THE WIND

Molly walked beside the fence, reading the whole long sentence. She frowned. “Burn anything else? What did you burn the first time?”

The dragon drooped again. And wrote: WITCH’S GARDEN SHED. ACCIDENT. HICCUPS

Molly nodded. “So you annoyed a witch, and she cursed you so that if you burn anything else in the next week, you’ll become smoke yourself?”

The dragon nodded.

Molly shrugged. “So, just don’t burn anything…”

The dragon sighed, a little cloud of sparks. Then wrote: BUT I HICCUP AND COUGH AND SNEEZE AND SOMETIMES MY AIM ISN’T PREFECT. PERFECT. STILL LEARNING

Molly remembered the questions she’d been set as homework on the curse-lifting workshop. “Did you say sorry to the witch?”

The dragon nodded. SAID I HAD TO LEARN LESSON. AND CACKLED!

The dragon had written on all the snow near the fence. So Molly climbed the fence, and walked with the golden dragon to a smooth white part of the pitch. Molly’s slippers flapped soggily on her feet.

The dragon wrote in the clean clear snow. I’M SCARED. MAKE ONE MISTAKE AND I’M SMOKE.

“Do you burn things deliberately?” asked Molly.

The dragon shook its spiky sparkling head. NOT ANYONE ELSE’S THINGS. JUST MY TOAST AND MARSHMALLOWS. BUT … HICCUPS

“Is there any way to put your flames out and just not make any fire at all until the New Year?”

The dragon shrugged and opened its mouth. Molly saw a bright orange flame burning at the back of its throat.

The dragon hiccupped, a blast of flame jetted out of its throat, and Molly dropped to the ground, making a messy snow angel as she scrambled away.

The dragon wrote OOPS

“Just as well you didn’t burn me, or that would have ruined both our Christmases.” Molly stood up and brushed snow off her damp pyjamas, her fingers tingling in the cold.

She smiled. “I have an idea! Would you let me try to put your fire out? Just for a little while?”

The dragon nodded.

While the dragon danced around her, melting a spiral of clawed footprints into the snow, Molly made snowballs, her fingers growing numb as she formed the icy shapes. Once she had built a white pyramid of snowballs, she said, “Open your mouth, please.”

The golden dragon opened its jaws wide. Molly stood as close as she could bear to the furnace heat coming out of its mouth. And she started to throw snowballs in. Like one of those serving machines on a tennis court, she threw them in fast, one after the other, aiming for the back of the dragon’s throat, for the base of the orange flame.

She missed with one or two snowballs, some bouncing on the ground, one getting stuck in the dragon’s left nostril. But most of the snowballs hit the target.

The fire in the dragon’s throat fizzled and sizzled. Molly threw in even more snowballs. The fire became dimmer and dimmer, then died.
When Molly had used up all her snowballs, the dragon breathed out. And the air that hit Molly was warm, not flaming hot.

Molly nodded. “Now you can’t make fire, so you won’t trigger the witch’s curse. If you feel your throat sparking up again this week, eat more snow. And if you want, I’ll use you as snowball target practice again. So you can use the Scottish weather to get round the curse until Hogmanay.”

The dragon used its claws to scratch in the bare grass of the pitch, where Molly had scooped up snow to make snowballs.

THANK YOU CURSE-BREAKER. THANK YOU!

As the dragon flew away, Molly shouted, “But don’t eat yellow snow. And don’t eat any snowmen either!”

Molly squelched home, in her soggy slippers, to see if there were any chocolate coins left in her stocking…

THE END

Weren’t the illustrations amazing? Thanks so much to everyone at Pirniehall, pupils and staff, who created so much brilliant artwork – it was really tough choosing the winners from all your fabulous pictures…

And if you want to read more about Molly’s adventures as a hare, you can find her at a curse-lifting workshop in the Spellchasers trilogy:

 

‘Where do you get your ideas from?’ I’m asked that question at almost every author event. It’s a great question, but there’s no quick easy answer!

My ideas don’t come from a place. I don’t think it’s possible to draw a map of where ideas come from. Maybe we need a history of ideas, rather a geography of ideas? Because I can tell you the history of the Spellchasers idea coming to life in my head…

All stories start with a spark of an idea, usually a ‘what if…?’

But Molly’s story started with three different sparks, at three different times. Which is probably appropriate for a trilogy!

The first spark arrived when I was writing the third novel in the Fabled Beast Chronicles. That must have been in 2010 or 2011 – 6 or even 7 years ago. One of the new characters in Storm Singing was a mermaid called Serena. I had lots of fun writing her, partly because I was never entirely sure whether I liked her or not. And Serena was cursed. She was taking part in the same Sea Herald contest as my main character Rona, because she thought winning would help her to lift the curse on all mermaids. And one little line of Serena’s dialogue made me think about whether there was a right and wrong way to lift a curse, ie whether there were rules of curse-lifting, and I wondered if there was a story in that.

But I was still in the middle of editing Storm Singing and I knew there was another Fabled Beast Chronicles book to come, so I just scribbled the thought down and put it to one side.

So that was a wee spark, about the rules of curse-lifting. And it sat in my head for a while.

Then there was the moment that the story arrived. That wasn’t a spark, that was a firework, exploding in my head. I still remember how it felt.

It was in January, 2012, so just over 5 years ago. I was meant to be doing my tax return, but that’s really boring, so instead, I was having fun typing up a list of possible future book ideas. I found the little note I’d made about Serena’s curse, and I started to add it to the list, but as I typed, the sentence about rules of lifting curses became a question about ‘what if…?’ ‘What if there was a workshop about lifting curses, and what if lots of young cursed fabled beasts met on that workshop… ?’ And suddenly I wasn’t typing a list of possible future books, I was typing characters and curses. Then I started to see and hear what I thought might be the first scene, in a room with desks, and they were all snarking at each other and arguing about curses…

This is a blog post I wrote that day, showing just how excited I was… Rereading the post now is quite odd – I can still remember that physical sense of a story coming to life in my whole body, not just my head. (Also notice how I carefully didn’t give anything away about the details of the idea!)

So that was the point when I knew that this idea was strong enough to be a book.

But I was still finishing the Fabled Beast series and I knew I wanted to write Mind Blind next. So I put this idea to the side again. But I was really excited about it, and I was sure it was one I was going to write very very soon. However, at that point, the idea was based around a mermaid, not a hare. So it still wasn’t Molly’s story.

And then, the third spark:

In 2013, so almost 4 years ago, someone asked me to write a very short story about winter, to publicise a book of winter stories I was launching. The first image that came to mind for a winter tale was a hare’s pawprints in the snow. So I wrote a page about running like a hare, about being chased as a hare. And as I wrote, I knew this wasn’t a real hare, it was a person who had become a hare.That was when I knew who my main character was, and what her curse was. And I knew this book was no longer about a mermaid, which I’d honestly never been convinced about, it was about a human girl transformed into a hare.

That was also when I knew that I had to write this book as soon as I could. In fact, I never sent the winter hare story (I wrote something else about paper snow) because I knew this character’s adventure wasn’t a short story, it was a novel.

But soon, it wasn’t even a novel, because once I went on the curse-lifting workshop with Molly and the others, there was so much story, so much magic, so many questions to answer, that it become a trilogy.

And now you can read the trilogy (well, the first two parts anyway!)

So that, as far as I can remember it, is the history of how the idea for the Spellchasers trilogy arrived in my head and grew into the story I started to write. But it’s still not a complete answer to the ‘where do you get your ideas from?’ question, because every other novel idea has arrived in a completely different way!

Though one common factor is noticing the ideas when they arrive, and remembering to write them down. And the other common factor seems to be that writing stories (or even lists) gives me ideas for other stories! So that’s not a ‘where’, that’s a ‘when’ and a ‘how’ and maybe even a ‘why’…