Scotland. The landscape is like no other place.

This can be said of everywhere, of course, but. Scotland. A small country that feels enormous, like its own planet.



From its pools and waterfalls to the highlands and the bogs, thick with clinging midges, to the alien landscapes of Skye (on which part of Prometheus was filmed) (don’t see that movie it sucks).

My trip to Scotland was an immersion in a landscape that that feels like home despite the fact I’ve never lived there. This is the feeling I am trying to capture, describe, in my novel. Weeks spent drifting amongst the heather-clad hills, lochs and shores of the island of Skye, of the spectacular Applecross Peninsular. Hours sitting by the shore looking over to the islands of Raasay and Scalapy, where the cottage I rented hunkers down out of the wind, watching seals, gannets dive and silent otters play in the weed, making photographs, taking notes. Fishing boats. Sunsets. Midges. Great forests, their trees huddled so close together that between them there is only blackness. Weird spires of rock glowering over rivers and waterfalls.

What a land. This is the land of my book.

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