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Elle Blackwood, FSAScot


If you’re here for random snippets of prattle, read on. Maybe we’re a good fit.

Q: Who’s Elle?

A: Have you heard of Beyond the Latch and Lever: Speculative Short Stories? Check it out. I co-edited this lovely anthology with Susanna Skarland, and I’m a contributing author. If you happen to read my short story, Esterbell, be sure to tell me if you cry at the end. It’s the polite thing to do. I’m also the author of A Map of My Existence, an autobiographical collection of poetry that even poetry haters enjoy.

Q: What do you write?

A: When crafting prose, I write magical realism and literary Gothic fiction steeped in folklore. Dark woodland landscapes with thatched cottages, mist-filled lochs, and lonely moors. I write about the magic of the in-between. The thresholds of changing seasons, and the boundaries between day and night—between past and present. I write middle-grade, young adult, and adult fiction. I also write picture books, mostly about witches. Write what you know.

Q: Which project are you most excited about?

Aside from my picture book manuscripts, Little Hollows is upmarket women’s fiction with Gothic elements. It’s filled with atmospheric settings, compelling characters, and a unique plot that twists and turns. In upcoming blog posts, I’ll share Scottish landscapes and villages that have served as inspiration.

Q: What else do you do?

A: I spend a lot of time in front of my easel. I paint modern-cubist women, odd landscapes, animals, people with clocks for heads—whatever comes to mind. I don’t believe in under sketches (because I can’t draw) so I never know what I’ll end up with. My donkey was the most difficult by far. I couldn’t get the eyes right. First, they were too big, then they were too small, then I wondered if he really needed eyes. The artistic process isn’t pretty, but I refuse to give up. It will be painted.

Q: Painting bores me. Don’t you do anything interesting?

A: Maybe. I love to travel and explore. I traipse through forests and old kirkyards with my silver birch walking stick in search of lost stories. I drive through the countryside to find ramshackle barns. Or if I want to be civilized, I browse old bookstores for antiquarian books no one’s heard of (or cares about). Or I hunt through antique shops for vintage photographs of people I don’t know—especially photos with writing on the back. Seriously, what sort of person abandons old family photographs? Not you, I hope.

There’s a gentle tree with satiny bark, all silver-white, and upon it, dark.
— Cicely Mary Barker, 1923

First time to the site? Start here.
Or not. I forget where it leads.

Wee Snippets of Prattle

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