Writers and editors may share a love of words but one does not necessarily make the other.  For every author who loves editing, I'll show you three or four who shudder at the thought, and even those in the 'love' camp - especially those - soon realise that's it nigh on impossible to edit their own work.

Who would have thought that a tattered, much-touted and talked-about (by me) little manuscript like A Blonde Bengali Wife would be seeing Bhola’s Children enter its eleventh year?

I’m always unsettled by a new year. It’s something to do with the overt marking of time passing, a reminder that life isn’t infinite. In several fundamental ways, 2017 has been a challenge, but then again, dig deep and there’s always so much good in the minutiae. What better way forward than to reflect on that and use it as a springboard to 2018?

Much of my writing life isn’t actually writing, and sometimes it’s not all editing or teaching either. November has been one such month, when moving between WriteRight and Lothian Life has allowed for some slightly more out of the ordinary projects.

There are very few things that would get me talking about Christmas in October, but Wendy Clarke’s new book of short stories is one of them. Silent Night, (published on 10^th October) is her third collection, and it’s a full-on festive feast.