Literary delights aplenty at Edinburgh Book Festival

The rain is tipping down as I walk through the streets of Edinburgh towards the book festival, the capital's annual delight for book lovers. As a rustic writer from rural Orkney, I find that the hazards have just got worse.

I now have to be hauled back not just from cars and buses, but from trams. The expensive white carriages snake through the city in an eerie, menacing silence. I fear they're out to get me. Back home in Orkney, I usually only have tractors bearing neeps to worry about. Crossing an Edinburgh street is a bit like crossing a war zone without defensive cover.

Will I make it back home? I phone my wife to ask her how she's coping with the torrential rain. No reply.

When she eventually calls me back, she tells me that she's been out, basking like a seal in the Orkney seas, in heat wave conditions.

I tell her about the rain. She tries to keep the triumphalism out of her voice. She fails. Ach well.

The Edinburgh International Book Festival is one of my favourite literary events. It sets in front of you a banquet of delights.

This year is no different. One of the highlights has been a sellout conversation between First Minister Nicola Sturgeon and Scotland's Makar, Jackie Kay.

What made it distinctive was the fact that instead of being interviewed, Scotland's first minister was herself the interviewer.

Whatever one thinks of Ms Sturgeon's politics, there is no doubt that she has star quality.

She obviously relished the change in role.

“As a politician, I’m more used to answering the questions, or, as the cynics would say, not answering them,” she said.

When Jackie Kay said she hoped she could do justice to the role of Scotland's Makar, adding, “If I don’t, I’m out in five years", Sturgeon retorted quickly, “So am I!”

The first minister revealed that she grew up wanting to be a writer of children’s books.

“I wanted to be the next Enid Blyton," she said, “though JK Rowling got there slightly before me."

Saying that she had always been a keen reader, she went on, “All my best childhood memories in some way come from the magic of reading books. For any child, a life that is lived without that is a life that is not as full as it should be.

“I was an odd child – I spent my fifth birthday party under the table reading a book.”

Nicola Sturgeon has challenged pupils across Scotland to read from a list of 100 books as part of a drive to improve literacy.

One of the most fascinating conversations in the bookfest so far has been the one between Professor Charles Fernyhough and retired bishop Richard Holloway on the subject of “voices in our heads".

This was of particular interest to me because a relative of mine had suffered from schizophrenia.

It used to be the case that people who heard voices were dismissed as mad, or even dangerous. More recent studies have shown that the hearing of voices is much more widespread than previously thought; and that internal voices often have constructed intentions.

My friend Richard Holloway at one time went through a phase of “speaking in tongues", a phenomenon that is linked to ecstatic religious utterances.

One observer stated that Richard was actually speaking Chinese; this emboldened Dr Holloway to approach a Chinese woman at Waverley station, and start speaking in tongues. This had an immediate effect – she ran away.

Still on the theme of conversations, a dialogue between Scottish comedy actor Gregor Fisher and Melanie Reid proved very revealing. Fisher, best known as Rab C Nesbitt, the string-vested Glasgow comic, has written a book about his strange upbringing, titled The Boy From Nowhere.

It turns out that Fisher's upbringing was a very complicated one, involving family secrets, deception, tragedy and rejection.

Melanie Reid, who helped Fisher write the book, was a colleague of mine when we were both columnists with The Herald.

An excellent writer, Reid was rendered paralysed in a horse riding accident five years ago.

With immense courage and determination, the wheelchairbound writer has fought back to become an award-winning columnist with The Times.

At its best, journalism and other forms of writing enlarge our view of the world. That's why I enjoy festivals that celebrate good writing up and down the country.

And remember: that child lying under a table reading a book while a birthday party rages on may turn out to be the next First Minister of Scotland.

At its best, journalism and other forms of writing enlarge our view of the world. That's why I enjoy festivals that celebrate good writing up and down the country