Showing posts with label #Scotland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #Scotland. Show all posts

Monday, 16 May 2022

Morag Edwards shares her journey from psychologist to author

I am delighted to welcome Morag Edwards to the blog today. she is going to tell us about her journey from educational psychologist to historial fiction author. Take it away, Morag.


I started my working life as a teacher and then as an educational psychologist, but after finishing an MA in creative writing in 2006, I began to describe myself in informal situations as a ‘psychologist and writer’. Now that my years of paid work are over, I’m simply a ‘writer’ or ‘author’. My path from psychologist to author wasn’t easy since educational psychology involves a great deal of writing. Reports about children spilled over into evenings and weekends to meet deadlines and then there were letters, strategy documents, minutes from meetings, supervision notes and the never-ending demands of email. What I learned was that all writing comes from the same pot and once that pot is empty, there is little creative energy left. I squeezed my own writing into the corners of my life, shaping up the novel I started for my MA dissertation, finishing a historical fiction novel, The Jacobite’s Wife, and starting another contemporary novel. There was never enough time to submit to agents or publishers or enter competitions. 

When writing my first historical fiction novel, I was struck by the similarity with writing a psychological report on a child. First, there was the information gathering, followed by trying to weave a narrative thread through huge amounts of information, held in my head, on scraps of paper or in notebooks. With a child’s report I had to think about whether the child’s personality was visible beyond all the facts and if their story was one the parents would recognise. In historical fiction, the details of events, dress and furnishing had to be accurate but too much information was worthless if it distracted from the plot and the intrigue of relationships. Finding out a fascinating detail can be one of the joys of researching a historical novel but it can be a wrench to leave those behind if they don’t add anything to the story.

Creating characters is where I make most use of my background in developmental psychology. Once I have the child’s background, I can imagine the adult personality. This is always where I start, even in historical fiction. Although much has changed about child-rearing practices and attitudes towards children over the centuries, we can predict that our ancestors’ personalities were shaped by early childhood experiences, much as ours are today. To create Winifred Herbert’s personality in The Jacobite’s Wife, I built upon the known facts. As a child, Winifred was separated from her mother for much of her childhood and had to make weekly visits to the Tower of London, knowing that her mother was at risk of execution. This early vulnerability and lack of a safe childhood helped me to understand why she risked so much to save her husband from execution. I am busy with a follow-on novel to The Jacobite’s Wife, provisionally called Neither Love nor Money. In this novel, a new character called Mary Herbert appears. Less is known about Mary’s early years but it was enough to discover that she felt unloved by her mother and was regarded as ‘different’ within her family and wider society.

My use of psychology in character development is not always successful. There are times when I make a character act or think in a manner entirely consistent with developmental psychology, but readers are unhappy, making comments like, ‘she wouldn’t have done/thought that’. Having beta readers scrutinise the novel is essential to catch such examples of professional over-thinking. If my description of a character’s motives or actions makes no sense to a reader, within their own lived experience, then it doesn’t belong in the novel. 

It is satisfying to use my knowledge of child psychology in fiction, if only because it gives my own narrative more purpose. Amongst many ‘what ifs’ is the one that goes, ‘what if I’d started my life as an author sooner?’ But perhaps I had to be a psychologist first, with enough knowledge and experience from a long career, to be confident about the authenticity of the relationships I describe. In my novels, relationships are everything and perhaps that is how it was meant to be.



The Jacobite's Wife

Morag Edwards

Based on the true story of Lady Nithsdale who smuggled her husband out of the Tower of London

Winifred had a troubled childhood. Her mother, father and brother were all imprisoned for treason due to their support for the Catholic king. When she falls in love with a handsome young Scottish nobleman, the marriage brings happiness. However, she is forced to rebel when her husband takes up the Jacobite cause and vows to restore the Catholic king to the throne.

While Winifred wants to be loyal to her husband, she also wants to protect him from imprisonment – and worse, the scaffold!

Buy it now


Morag Edwards is an educational psychologist and has an MA in creative writing . The story of the Earl of Nithsdale and his escape from the Tower of London has long fascinated her. However, looking further into this story, Morag realised that his wife Winifred was by far the more interesting character. Her motive for attempting to rescue her husband from the Tower remain a puzzle as she stood to lose everything - her home, her children and even her own life if she failed. Morag's knowledge of child development has influenced her attempt to understand Winifred and the forces that drove her to save her husband. However, there remains much scope for conjecture and for readers to reach their own conclusions. 








Thursday, 28 April 2022

The Coffee Pot Blog Tour presents: The Douglas Bastard (A sequel to The Black Douglas Trilogy) by J R Tomlin


Book Title: The Douglas Bastard

Series: (A sequel to The Black Douglas Trilogy)

Author: J R Tomlin

Publication Date: 26th April 2022

Publisher: Albannach Publishing

Genre: Historical Fiction


Tour Schedule Page: 


The Douglas Bastard 

(A sequel to The Black Douglas Trilogy)

By J R Tomlin


The Black Douglas is dead. With Scotland's greatest knight no more, the throne is up for grabs as enemies try to devour the kingdom.

An orphaned youth returning from exile, Archibald, the Black Douglas's bastard son, fights for a land being torn apart from within and without. If Archibald is to survive, he must learn to sleep with a claymore in his hand and one eye open because even his closest friend might betray him...

This is an adventure set in the bloody Second Scottish War of Independence when Scot-land's very survival is in question.

Read an excerpt

My friend did live though he was months healing, and my beating hurt for only a day or two. He told me that winter was not the season for fighting, so he would not miss much. I spent my days keeping him company, being instructed by Sir John with sword and lance or the priest in reading and writing, and in the company of the men who were happy to regale me with stories of attacks on the English from caves where they hid in the great forest.

Life in the keep still got boring at times. So I welcomed it one chilly spring morning while I was giving his hauberk one more polish when he stopped in the door of the armory. “Come with me, Archie.”

I followed him into the lower bailey, happy to be called away from a boring task. It was a bright, crisp morning, and swallows were twittering between the thatched roofs. He strode to-ward the smithy, its smoke rising straight up. A skein of geese flew overhead, wending their way north. The clang of hammer strikes came from inside, along with the blacksmith’s shout-ing to his son to work the bellows. John and Andrew, Sir William’s bastard half-brother who had just returned from aiding the Stewart, stood chatting in front of the building.

When we entered, John and Andrew following us, the blacksmith leaned over his anvil, ham-mering a heated horseshoe he was forming. His face was broad beneath graying hair, and strong, muscular forearms stuck out of his tunic. He wore a leather apron and leather gloves. 

“Right with you, my lord.” He gave the horseshoe another couple of blows, stuck it hissing into a tub of water, and turned, beaming. “I found just the right one for the lad.”

“Let us see it, then.”

This was getting better and better. The smith put down his tools and strode to a table at the side of the smithy. The links of a hauberk clinked when he held it. “It was the smallest you took from that attack on the supply train at yuletide. It needed a few repairs, but those are done.”

Sir William stroked his chin. “Hold it up to him. It looks a bit large.”

I was bouncing, my heart racing, and the smith growled at me to stay still as he held it up to my chest.

“Aye, but he is growing, so that is nae bad thing. He should wear the thickest haubergeon we can find under it until he has grown a bit.” He tilted his head and frowned. “I will make the aventail on his helm long enough to cover any gap around the neck.”

Not able to contain it anymore, I burst out, “It’s to be mine? Truly?”

“My squire must have armor.” A corner of Sir William’s thin mouth twitched. 

John slapped me on the back. “I told Liddesdale you are ready. So dinnae let me down.”

“A squire . . .” I had been sure he would make me his squire, but it really happening was like a dream. The smithy appeared to spin for a moment as though I’d had too much ale. I turned to Sir William and burst out, “I will . . . I will serve you well. Always . . . I will be your man.”

Sir William opened his mouth, but what he was about to say was cut off when one of the tower guards beat the iron bar that served as a warning bell and shouted, “In view! Riders in view!” 

Sir William turned on his heel and stepped out the open front of the smithy. He called up, “How many?”

“Six riders. Not flying a banner.”

He strode across the bailey and up the steps to the parapet walk. Then he laughed and called down, “Open the sally port.”

I clutched the hauberk in my arms and went out to see that, indeed, only the small door into the bailey was opened, not the big gate. One of the guards on the ground was ushering in the cleric Bullock and his men-at-arms. A ginger-haired, craggy-faced knight strode beside Bullock. Sir William was bounding down the parapet stairs, shouting, “Welcome.” Two grooms were hurry-ing to take their mounts. “Simon Fraser! A welcome sight, my friend.”

“Liddesdale.” Bullock’s wide face was split with a grin. “I have a plan for taking Edinburgh.”

“Edinburgh cannae be taken,” Andrew said gloomily. “Not after the way King Edward strength-ened it.”

“Anything can be taken,” Bullock said. “It is a matter of finding the right way.”

Fraser added, “But we need to move quickly before they are resupplied. Later Bullock’s ruse might not work as well.”

“How many men do they have? Do you ken?” Sir William asked.

“My contact says a hundred or so total, about half men-at-arms and half archers. Also, some watch, half a score or so.”


J. R. Tomlin is the author of nineteen historical novels.

She has close ties with Scotland since her father was a native Scot, and she spent substantial time in Edinburgh while growing up. Her historical novels are set for the most part in Scot-land. Her love of that nation is traced from the stories of Robert the Bruce and the Good Sir James her grandmother read to her when she was small, to hillwalking through the Cairn-gorms where the granite hills have a gorgeous red glow under the setting sun. Later, her writing was influenced by Alexander Dumas, Victor Hugo, Nigel Tranter, and Sir Walter Scott.

When JR isn't writing, she enjoys hiking, playing with her Westie, and killing monsters in computer games. In addition to spending time in Scotland, she has traveled in the US, Eu-rope, and the Pacific Rim. She now lives in Oregon.


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