Finalist, Scottish Arts Club Short Story Competition 2018
Excerpt from The Genuine Article
‘What are you doing here Torquil? I told you, it’s not ready.’
Torquil cast his eyes around the jumble of tubes and brushes in Malcolm’s studio. Discarded paint adorned every surface, including the capacious canvas of Malcolm’s t-shirt.
‘I’m not here about the Rembrandt.’ Torquil mopped his brow with a white linen handkerchief. The studio was oppressively close and the smell of the oils was overpowering.
‘It took me ages to find the right canvas, without any modern chemicals in it. Something I can age convincingly. Then there’s the paint.’ He waved a tube menacingly at Torquil, causing him to step back into something sticky. ‘The lead will probably kill me.’...
I came to Glasgow from Newcastle-upon-Tyne for 18 months in 1980 and seem to have lost track of time. I expect my wonderful wife and three daughters distracted me. A couple of years ago I was made redundant by a grateful employer. Wanting more time to pursue other interests, I secured part-time work as a Development Manager for a housing association. I took a series of Creative Writing night-classes at Strathclyde University and found the tutor and my class mates to be inspirational. My shortlisted story started out as an assignment in one of those classes. . Three of my other stories have won the weekly peer reviewed competitions featured on the Hour of Writes web site. My best writing ideas occur to me when I am walking in the Scottish hills or along a beach in Northumberland. Almost anywhere, in fact, when there is no pen or paper to hand.