Michael Pedersen on 'setting bonfires in bellies' in his first semester as Edinburgh University’s writer in residence
Let’s address the elephant in the room – what exactly is a writer in residence? Well, that’s a lithely-loaded, brow-bristling, and (often) combustible question – depending on where it’s asked. In the dank cellars of social media, the notion of writing in residence anywhere can be seen as an indulgence met with jeering and ribaldry. In literary circles, a well-administered, salaried, WIR (that’s the in-vogue abbreviation) position is a highly coveted, career-bolstering accolade. Not only that, it’s one that affords the bearer the ability to galvanise newbie writers and unfurl events that set bonfires in bellies.
Advertisement
Hide AdThe WIR role at Edinburgh Uni boasts an esteemed history of writers who’ve previously held the post. The first to take the reins was Gaelic poet Sorley MacLean, not long after him came the irreplaceable Norman MacCaig, then former Makar Liz Lochhead and heralded novelists Alan Warner and Jenni Fagan. Back when I was at Portobello High School, Edinburgh University didn’t come to our careers fair, which was mainly populated by the Army, local supermarkets and a solo college. There was a central Edinburgh careers fair the uni did go to, hosted by a more affluent school, that we were welcome to attend.
Advertisement
Hide AdThat said, having achieved an A in Higher English, I scored an invite to Edinburgh University’s Creative Writing Summer School – as auspicious a thing as had ever happened to me. With the promise of a publication at the end of the week – an internally printed, yet spiral plastic bound, slab of A4 sheets – it felt akin to a baby book deal (though definitely wasn’t). Either way, this week was one of divine inspiration for me and catalysed me into penning poems non-stop during my undergrad down the road at Durham. It was this flash of being in a uni – no-one in my large family having previously attended University – that demystified the application process.
Since then my career has cantered forth with good fortune, but it’s reflecting back upon this summer school epoch that provides me with the greatest impetus to use this opportunity to its utmost. I believe the WIR can light a wee literary beacon across the city, and foment relations between the university and the many denizens who dwell outside of academia. Although much of what I do is open solely to those within the uni, all the events I’ve hosted have and will continue to offer plentiful free tickets to the public. We’re sharing our ancient city after all – those entangled with this world-renowned institute of learning, and those that have never set foot in this, or any, university.
As for the shows themselves, we started with bravura. The first event was my big Edinburgh welcome in October, and what better way to start than to quest off into 30 years of Trainspotting (1993-2023) with the maestro Irvine Welsh. This city has carouselled, chaos-ed and coruscated these three decades and this writer has seen it all, releasing books aplenty in the process. Alongside that Edinburgh newbie(ish) Gemma Cairney on what it’s like to arrive in the city and hit the ground running. November saw former Makar Jackie Kay visit to discuss the treats and trials of such a venerated position, and showcase her stunning forthcoming collection May Day. She enthralled.
In December we closed the year at a sold-out Queen’s Hall, where Nicola Sturgeon sat down with me to discuss the books that sustained her over her term as Scotland’s longest serving First Minister. Revelations from that? Well, as chance would have it Nicola was reading Albert Camus’s The Plague when Covid came to Scotland. And she rightly tackled head-on the odious comments flung her way every time she posts about books she’s relished – as if there wasn’t a solid track record of humans edifying themselves from reading. The spotlight on her own book, due in 2025, left the masses with appetites whet. To close proceedings there were complementary readings by Hollie McNish, Val McDermid and Andrés N Ordorica, covering such topics as people losing their sh*t over the death of a monarch and the potential murder of Santa Claus. Can’t get more festive than that.
A reading list to waltz you into the holidays you say? My pleasure.
*Irvine Welsh, Alan Warner, John King: The View From Poacher’s Hill
*Jackie Kay: Red Dust Road
*Val McDermid: 1979
*Andrés N Ordorica: At Least This I Know
*Hollie McNish: Lobster (coming March 2024)
To find out about forthcoming Edinburgh University writer in residence events, visit www.michaelpedersen.co.uk/events