Harrogate, here I come.

July is nigh. I like July. July means the next major writering gathering I regularly attend each year.

Crime & Publishment in February, Harrogate in July. Bute Noir in August. Bloody Scotland in September.

Last year’s Harrogate was, for me, a little subdued because of some deeply hurtful personal stuff that happened shortly before July. Took the shine off a lot of my life, and rather tarnished my excitement at attending what was my first Harrogate.

But this year, I’m past the nastiness of 2022, and can’t wait to spend a couple of days mingling and jawing and hugging (and possibly imbibing a few refreshments) with My Tribe. I know Harrogate is seen as a great networking opportunity, and I’d be a big, fat, fibber if I tried to claim I wanted none of that cynical nonsense, but there *are* some people I’d dearly love to bump into, for various reasons.

There are people I feel a need to apologise to, like the lovely lady who took the trouble to hand-write some excellent notes on my then Pile-Of-Tripe, but which then I lost and possibly left lying on a chair in a hotel in Gretna. I then compounded my sins by failing to pluck up the courage to approach said person to apologise for said transgression when I saw said person at last year’s Harrogate.

Then there are people I want to thank (guchingly, I fear) for all the patience and support and bottom-bootings with which they’ve blessed me in my long, painful, embarrasingly needy, journey where I am today – actually believing my scribblings might actually be worthy of publication.

Finally, there are the people who just make my heart swell when I see them. Good, kind, generous, loving people. Typical crime writerers. My Tribe.

I’ve missed you all. xxx