You may notice that I am not Elizabeth. There may be several clues to this fact. The first in my accent. Let me assure you I do not have a speech impediment. I am merely Scottish. Secondly my beard. I call it “hobo chic” while others call it, “can’t be bothered shaving.” Both are true.
I am taking over Elizabeth’s site today in what will be the penultimate stop on my Blog Tour. For thirteen days I have been trawling the internet to promote the release of my latest novel, THE LOST SISTER. I believe Elizabeth may already have posted her thoughts on the book. I don’t know what they are. I sure hope she enjoyed it. [Elizabeth's Note: Review tomorrow, and I enjoyed the hell out of it.]
As we are coming to the end of the tour (this is the penultimate post – if all goes well, tomorrow I shall be invading fellow Scots crime writer, Stuart MacBride’s blog), I have covered a variety of topics. I have talked about setting books in a relatively unknown Scottish city. I have discussed movies and books that played a huge part in my development. I have toppled the myths of genre and discussed the best way to approach writing a sequel.
What I have not talked about is why I do any of this.
What made me a writer?
Because, seriously folks, you have to have your brain examined if you want to try doing this for a living. It’s a tough life. Your work has no intrinsic value. This thing that you for a living rises and falls on people’s opinions and moods. Technical skill counts for little if you don’t engage readers on some emotional level. (more…)
