The Magic of the Highlands
My Scotland Book Research Adventure
There is a mystery I have been chasing my whole life.
The mystery of the Scottish Highlands. Maybe there are people out there who will understand.
This is why — obviously — I took my main character of the Prometheus Dystopian Trilogy on a journey across the country. And followed his footsteps.
There is a lot of movement and exploration in the novel, and the main characters cover an extensive route from the Isle of Skye all the way down to Pembrokeshire and finally, London.
It was a spur of the moment that made me realize I needed to cover all the stops on this route myself — see the landscapes, the distances, get a feeling for those places. So I set out on an exhausting journey of seven days: from Skye to Loch Lomond, Lake District, Pembrokeshire and London.
It all started in Glencoe — or Outer Area Three, the fictitious name I gave the place in the novel.
Glencoe Valley is where my heart keeps returning to. It’s weird how we can feel at home in placed we have never visited. But this is a place my rests in more than any place else. Maybe because home is a ford unfamiliar to me.
I grew up in the capital of Kirgisia, but remember mostly the summer days we used to spend in the mountains — barbecuing and running across the valley with the roar of the ice-cold river as a constant companion.
We never had a home–strangers to a country that never wanted us, remaining strangers when we immigrated to Germany in 1999.
I’m not Scottish. I may have no right to call this place home. But my heart doesn’t care.
The Isle of Skye is of another color. Another flavor.
It feels like a place where earth and sky touch and melt into something mysterious, too big for words. Only when driving across this bridge, and standing at the fairy pools, could I understand how my characters felt embarking on that journey. Landing on this island.
A place inbetween.
Lake District — Outer Area One — provided new sparkles of how the society and technology of the Outer Areas would work, according to the atmosphere of the places.
While the North was harsh and dark, more wild — we could drive for hours without encountering a village —Lake District felt more civilized and populated. This is what it became in the novels.
And finally, Wales.
A new world, a new culture. Stunning coast formations, colors and sentiments. The water beating against the current. The military bases nearby. All of this inspired and enriched my story in ways I never thought possible.
Research is the fuel of an author’s world.
I never regretted a mile we crosses on this adventure. Wait, I might have regretted one thing: having to leave this island with a bittersweet sense of Farewell.
Knowing I’ll come back as soon as I can.
