Duncan Harley

One of the joys of feature writing is that awful feeling when, despite your best efforts, you get it spectacularly wrong. It’s a bit like putting your head on the block really. Once in print, there’s no way back really. Digital stuff is different – but that’s a story for another day. In far off 2013 I had penned an article about Maggieknockater. It was published in a couple of places including Leopard Magazine and of course Aberdeen Voice.   For those not in the know Maggieknockater is a tiny village on the A95 made famous many years ago when an Aberdonian named George McLean built an apiary by the roadside. Now, I soon discovered that George’s efforts had led an Englishman by the name of John Drewry to pen a 32-step jig about the place. Aptly named ‘The Bees of Maggieknockater’ the dance was inspired when John drove past George’s banks of bee-hives on his way to Craigellachie. John seemingly failed to stop and almost certainly never tasted George’s heather-honey. But he was ...

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...

That’s the reprint done and dusted. Not that I had anything much to do with it. The whole point of having a publisher is after all to free up from the business of handling that end of the process. Not for me the ink-stained hands and the ear-shattering noise of the printing-press. Not for me the tedium of taking orders, invoicing them and shipping them to bookshops around the globe. And not for me the tedium of trying to actually get paid for my work. That is what a publisher does and, to date at least, The History Press seem well qualified in this regard. So, hopefully, those bookshops which have sold-out the first edition will shortly be selling out this second edition. Onwards and upwards etc. As for that header – New Books and Panties. Well it’s a not very successful play on Ian Dury’s debut album.  Wiki, and I am confident that they are right, says: ‘ Released in the UK on  Stiff Records on 30 September 1977. Usually thought of as the first album by Ian Dury a...

The writing of words is such a learning curve. And the publishing of words is at best fraught. I have said this before and will no doubt say it again, but that moment when the send button is pressed is such a bastard. Once the words have gone to wherever words go, the power and control has been given to another. An editor probably, and an overly pedantic editor might just be on the horizon. Or would it just be a friend intent on sorting out the mixed-up rhetoric. I have met both. Well, when I say met, I mean something much less. Since, some of the unmet editorial influences have been disastrous to say the least. And some of the met have been similar. Mind you, and on balance, those whom I have taken tea with have mainly excelled and taken good care of my words and intents. Leopard, Aberdeen Voice, Northern Scot are but to name but a few. Today, I was set to do battle with a new foe. Invited to review a Sondheim musical I was faced with a multitude of wordily issues via an unknown dig...

A loyal friend has subbed my work over the years. Alongside a good few splendid editors along the way, he has stuck by me for whatever reason and has often kindly suggested changes to my words. Banksy-like he is known only as PK, and has been kind enough to suggest changes to my recent book also. Sadly, and I say this smilingly, the book is almost sold-out and is on a fast-track to a re-print. February 8 is new publication day and Macmillan Distribution assure me that all outstanding orders will be fulfilled shortly afterwards. What a relief; and indeed, what an honour. And that’s great. Except, of course, the subbed text and the thankfully very occasional howlers will remain unchanged until the revised 3 rd edition which is due out sometime before summer. In the best possible taste and with a stereotypically familiar nod – whatever that may mean - to those, including Paul, who have pointed out the errors of my pen, here is a small selection of the corrections: ‘A-Z of Curious ...

This is the tale of Garioch local-lad 'old Dod Mutch' and was first published in the May 2015 edition of Leopard Magazine. I recall that publication resulted in a payment of some £50 and that it made it into the Leopard's Tale spot near the back page. Quite why I chose to publish using the name of James L. Ramsay still escapes me. I may have been trying to hide my talent behind a bush - but I am unsure if that was a good strategy. In an effort to rectify the quirky 'nom de plume' e rror, here it is yet again. The names of the guilty parties have in the main been changed however, in the big scheme of things, much of what follows is completely true. I can reveal that 'Birtybogs' is near the village of Oyne however and that ' the Gairnie Inn' was situated in a former bank building  near the Garioch settlement of Durno. A one armed bandit -  By James L. Ramsay Old Dod Mutch was found dead in his chair. It was a stroke apparently and probably...

It’s been quite a heady week review-wise. On top of the – now four – feedback reviews of the new book on the Amazon platform several local and not so local newspapers have been brave enough to expose my curious writings to a wider audience. First of all, The Scotsman published a wide-ranging piece titled ‘7 gems from Aberdeenshire’s past’. Penned by Alison Campsie, whom I have never knowingly met – honest Injun’s – the article begins with the history of Aberdeenshire Alligators and concludes with a tale about Aberdeenshire toilets - I kid you not. And the full feature can be found on the Scotsman website at: https://www.scotsman.com/lifestyle/7-gems-from-aberdeenshire-s-curious-past-1- On the previous Friday a good friend had contacted me to say that I had finally made it into the Evening Express. Now, to put this in context, I have been trying to get the local Aberdeenshire papers to take my articles and theatre reviews for ages but without much success. On this occasion however,...