Karen Campbell — об авторе

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Today, Wigtown seems to be replicating its glory days. The air is festive; it is electric with books. The crisp white crack of them, their bold and glossy hardness, the soft, dry whisper-touch that can set your teeth on edge. Bookshops spill open, trestles outside to display their wares – there are five, six shops Kelly…

Glasgow is a living beast of sandstone and grit, of smart-mouthed sideways humour, of traffic cones as modern art and soaring grandeur and dear, dear green places, of glittery puddles reflecting Victorian statues – men, all men, and one torn-faced queen – of deer grazing by gravestones, of the Molendinar Burn and a gentle…