
This is because the old tales of Scotland were passed down through the generations of my family, told to my grandmother, Joy Mackenzie-Wood, by her grandmother, Ellen Mackenzie, who was born in Scotland in 1840.
Nonnie, my mother’s mother, was a wonderful storyteller, and knew great reams of poetry off by heart. Her two elder sisters, Aunty Clarice and Aunty Gwen, lived in a house with tartan-covered chairs, paintings of stags and lochs, and bookcases laden with Scottish fairy tales and history. Aunty Gwen would cook us scones with homemade jam, and Aunty Clarice kept shortbread in a tin with a photo of Eilean Donan Castle on it.

We were thrilled by this story, and by tales of how Robert the Bruce was saved by a spider, and Bonnie Prince Charlie by a brave young woman called Flora Macdonald (this was a favourite tale of ours since our other grandmother, our father’s mother, was born Jean Macdonald).
I can remember Nonnie telling me how Mary, Queen of Scots, escaped her enemies several times, once dressed as a boy, once disguised as a laundress.

Mary, Queen of Scots was taken captive but she tricked her guards and escaped the palace that night, by climbing down from the windows on a rope made of knotted bedclothes. She was seven months pregnant with the future king of Scotland. She rode back a week later at the head of an army, and defeated the rebels and avenged her friend.
The story of the bloodstain that never fades and the queen’s escape down knotted bedclothes began my fascination with Mary, Queen of Scots. I began to read everything I could about Scotland and its most tragic queen.

My sister and I always thought this was most unfair, and used to dream about going back to Scotland and winning back Ellen’s home as our own. In our imagination Ellen and Jane were wronged, the uncle was cruel, and her home was a beautiful old castle, on the shores of a loch, with all sorts of romantic secrets waiting to be discovered. We hoped that one day a mysterious letter would arrive, summoning us back to Scotland and our lost inheritance …
I wrote a novel with just that storyline in 1977, when I was eleven years old, called Far, Far Away, about a girl calls Fiona who finds herself heir to a castle in Scotland, but will lose everything if she cannot find the lost Killarney Treasure.
And then, thirty years later, I wrote it again, showing just how compelling are the tales of our childhood.

Thank you, Kate, for such a great guest post! You can buy The Puzzle Ring on Amazon UK and The Book Depository (free international shipping). Visit Kate Forsyth's website.
Yesterday and tomorrow's tour stops:
Today with me
5th Feb - Chicklish - Interview with Kate Forsyth
Make sure you check those posts out!
Ooh, that was fascinating - thank you for this guest post! I loved hearing about "Far, Far Away". (And thank you for the tour stop links!)
ReplyDeleteIt's such a great post, isn't it?! I loved reading about Kate's family history, it's awesome! No problem about the links! :)
ReplyDeleteWow, it is amazing that Kate kept her stories that she wrote in her childhood and that she can remember all the tales that were told by her gran. Fun post!
ReplyDeleteI know! Great memory, and so awesome that this story was started when she was so young! I love it! :)
ReplyDeleteThanks for this post, I really loved reading it. It's great to hear about the beginnings of The Puzzle Ring!
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you enjoyed it! :) It was an interesting post, I'm so glad Kate wrote it for me! :)
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