Duncan Harley

It's maybe just a few weeks till the annual anniversary of the demise of Bob Smith. I am always ahead of the game and just thought that you might be happy to remember the splendid man.  Bob famously spent a latter career slaving over adverts for an uncaring local paper and was a fierce critic of Donald Trump. He would never miss an opportunity to mention Trump in his popular poems, which featured weekly in Aberdeen Voice. He features in my two books along with the likes of Wallace, Bruce, Byron and T.E. Lawrence. And why not.  All in all, Bob contributed in excess of 200 poems to the Aberdeen Voice and had a few of his pieces published in the glossy Leopard. There maybe should have been a book but he never made it into that sort of print. Occasionally I think of the man. For some strange reason, his memory popped up today despite the few more weeks till the anniversary of his passing. Here, for what it's worth, is his take on the Doric: A’ve ayewis spak the Dori...

A conversation with number two son today, reminded me that there’s always a wee bit of thrill seeking when submitting words for publication. The buzz of seeing stuff from the innermost portions of the brain spread across a glossy page is just that … a buzz. Then of course there is the thorny question of payment. That’s a second buzz – that is, if the end-users are prepared to offer a financial inducement. Most are full of respect and payment of course, but some see us writers as easy prey. Personal episodes include that proposal, from an Embra' lady, that I ghost write her novel about some failed army general or other who invaded Tibet. Then there was the mad-man who insisted I contribute to his fictitious blog  concerning Jesus. The list goes on. But, at least I am learning how to body-swerve the more dangerous jobs. Many publications, such my local daily, are prepared to publish subject to a non-payment clause. Try as I might, I can’t seem to squeeze even a penny fr...

The snagging list for the next book pounds on. Off for an edit, the new tome – to the best of my knowledge – has but three embarrassing bloopers. Not so last night’s blog about Dracul, which had just the two. Fortunately, both Dacre Stoker and J.D. Barker were forgiving and, following a wee hint, suitable amendments were made to the inaccurate portions of the piece. That’s the essence of the blogging problem really. Bloggers generally have no editor. You write, publish and generally wing it. Unless readers take umbrage, or better still make suggestions, the blogosphere relies on feedback and hopefully kind words. I don’t as yet have a cover image for the new book, but here – in the hope of some pre-publication appreciation – is an extract … “In his circa AD 98 biography of his father-in-law Agricola, Tacitus records amongst other things the victory of the Roman general Agricola’s armies over the Barbarian hordes of Caledonia. Much has been made of the fact that, although...

Many years ago, in fact more years than I care to recall, I met a man in a pub in Inverurie. I had seen him a few times along the bar and imagined him to be some big landowner or at the very least some rich son of a gun. Deer-stalkered, he sat at the end of the bar swapping conversation with a few cronies. The conversations usually revolved around Africa, or Boston, or sometimes Portugal. Intrigued, I inveigled myself into his company. It proved to be a good move. Eventually he featured in a Leopard article or two as ‘Retired Railway engineer Joe Strachan’ and his tales of gunslinging ambushes on the railway route between Victoria Falls and death by landmine on the Mozambique railway lines will no doubt feature in an intended novel. Imagine my surprise when, during a visit today, he revealed that a street in the Zimbabwe province of Harare is named in his honour. Both Google Maps and something by the name of Geoview.com record that: “Strachan Street is next to Ardbe...

Had a wee half-hour break from pounding the keyboard today and headed out to Osprey Heights on the new fringes of Inverurie. It’s a new-build development and, until recently boasted a Bridge to Narnia. I referred to it in my old Leopard column in glowing terms as a source of local speculation. ‘The Bridge to Narnia has been a source of local speculation for several years. Constructed as part of the Osprey Village residential development at Souterford, the pedestrian bridge literally goes to absolutely nowhere and during the spring when the River Ury floods at Souterford, the decking of the bridge vanishes from view. Seemingly plans are afoot to build a footpath across the flood plain to link Osprey Village with the nearby retail park and, subject to satisfactory design and environmental consultations, the infamous bridge may finally find a new use. No doubt both C. S. Lewis and King Canute would approve.’ Thankfully this quirky landscape error has now been rectified and a spl...

It’s unusual for me to post two WordPress posts on the one day however a conversation with Janice’s brother Michael, also a Catto, earlier set me thinking about a visit to the RAF at the airbase at Lossiemouth. As usual, it was something to do with an article and as usual Janice drove while I consulted notes and gathered some thoughts. We were met at the gate by a Warrant Officer. I have no idea to this day what that is; but I have to say that he was pleasant and was as nice as ninepence. In the course of the day we were taken all around the base and fed lunch, for a miniscule and probably subsidised £2-32 per person, at the officer’s mess. Following that basic but splendidly adequate aviator’s lunch sat next to some highly trained fighter-pilots, we set off around the base taking in the fast-response units and the Typhoons sitting around the maintenance hanger. There were around 4 aeroplanes parked there and, although I am probably not allowed to reveal this, all were red and s...

James Gordon Bennett Senior is often associated with euphemism’s such as “cor blimey!” and “would you believe it!”. He was educated in the village of Newmill near Keith in rural Scotland-shire and, in later life was widely feared and indeed hated by many. Described by one reputed enemy as "an obscene foreign vagabond, a pestilential scoundrel, ass, rogue, habitual liar, loathsome and leprous slanderer and libeller" he specialised in “kiss and tell” stories. It seems that in 1836 for example, he offered a reward to any woman prepared to “set a trap for a Presbyterian parson and catch one of them in flagrante delicto.” Familiar rhetoric perhaps? Well, given the ‘Slime Ball vs Mob Boss’ headlines in this weeks papers and the ‘kiss and tell’ antics of Stormy Daniels, all is not well in the land of Trump. Tomorrow seemingly, Jim Comey’s ‘kiss and tell’ tale of a deeply disturbing presidency is due for publication – hence the proliferation of major-domo articles exposing the...

As subliminal messages go the Halo Effect is a sublimely subtle psychological concept. In essence a marketing concept and a route to unimaginable riches, the Halo Effect seemingly encourages us unsuspecting and blatantly thick consumers to assume that two and two make five. Apparently, the food-retailers have this down to a fine art. Or, at least their PR firms do. Joanna Blythman’s splendid article in today’s Guardian explains the phenomenon quite clearly when she writes that “When it comes to labelling, food retailers run rings around their customers, and mainly get away with it. They weave a lexicon of feelgood terms – ‘fresh’, ‘handmade’, ‘artisan’, ‘local’, ‘farmhouse’, ‘healthy’, ‘natural’ – into their marketing messages.” The halo effect in marketing allows a brand to positively anchor its reputation to a popular item. So, if you want to sell sausages you might just want to avoid descriptives which suggest dead stuff. A negative brand image is a big no no and ...

One of the pieces in my new book concerns the history of the early days of The Beatles. Not that I knew them or anything – although I did once meet an Elgin man who claimed that Paul played at his brother-in-law’s wedding -  but I have been privileged to both listen to the songs and I have of course visited a few of those local venues which – in those heady 1960’s – played host to the Fab Four. Now there’s a mouthful of words! There are of course many historical venues associated with the band and one of my favourites is Fraserburgh’s Dalrymple Hall. Billed nowadays as the Beatles ‘Lost Tour’ the 1960 tour included performances at Elgin, Bridge of Allan and Dingwall before climaxing at Fraserburgh. The stage at Dalrymple is on an upper floor of the building and leans towards the audience at some crazy angle or other. In the big scheme of things its surprising that performers, including bands and theatre groups, can remain completely calm whilst treading those illustrious boar...

That’s the second edition of the book both printed and delivered to both my doorstep and of course to bookstores all around the globe. Hopefully this second printing will sell out just as fast as the first edition. I calculate that it took just a smidgeon over 2,467 hours and seventeen minutes to pen the book but only around 18 days for it to completely sell-out. Work out the math. The Amazon rankings seem to suggest that, for part of today at least, my book is number seven in the category ‘history, Scotland’ and number 44 in the category ‘folklore and legends, United Kingdom’. Well that can’t be bad surely. Mind you, the rankings change by the hour seemingly so I may be only a shining prince for a day. That shiny yellow Lamborghini looks to be within grasping distance, albeit in Dinky Toy format. As for the rest of today? Well I bought a chicken from a well-known supermarket outlet – ostensibly for my pet cat Lucy. It was only £2-10 and came already roasted. Not that I am parti...