Introducing Carl…

A crime novel wasn’t an obvious choice for my first book. My father had loved Ian Rankin’s Rebus and nothing gladdened his Glaswegian heart more than a pint in Edinburgh’s Oxford Bar. But fantasy, folk-tales, mythology, supernatural and horror dominated my reading. I’d written various stories and always wanted to publish something, so after my father died, it seemed fitting to attempt a book in the genre he loved.

Unfortunately, my background in that genre was lacking. I’d read a limited amount, mostly by “name” Scottish writers such as the aforementioned Mr Rankin, Chris Brookmyre, Val McDermid, alongside some American crime writing and reportage from the likes of David Simon, and James Ellroy. I was a more frequent consumer of crime story on the screen, often American long-form shows like The Wire, The Sopranos, True Detective, The Shield. But US based shows are not UK-based novels, and Inspector Morse never wandered around Oxford wondering who had stolen his ding-dongs.

So, I did what I suspect a lot of first-time writers do under those circumstances: I made a lot of stuff up. I wasn’t completely at sea – one friend had Scottish criminal law experience, and a chance encounter with a police officer outside a DIY store provided a helpful contact. But I doubted I’d bump into a pathologist at a bus stop, or stumble into a forensic anthropologist in Starbucks.

My relative ignorance meant only one thing: I would need to conduct proper research, reading books to broaden my knowledge rather than just as entertainments. But that sounded worthy and difficult, so I conjured an imaginary friend to badger me into it. Which was where Carl appeared snarling: “Tell them who I am, you faker!” I think Carl is what you get when you anthropomorphise Imposter Syndrome. He thinks it isn’t a syndrome since I genuinely am an imposter. We don’t always see eye to eye.

But Carl, when he is being civil, curates my Crime Author’s Reading List. The books recommended there, like Doctor Who’s Tardis, won’t always take me where I expect to go, but will hopefully reflect where I need to be. There will likely be a few quirks from time to time, but you’re very welcome to come along for the ride.