Douglas Stewart

And I thought, I'm done with Scotland.

And

I set it in something that feels like the MoMA, the Museum of Modern Art in New York.

And then suddenly these two Glaswegians appeared on the page and dominated the story.

And I thought maybe you can never leave Scotland as a Scotsman.

Yes, I think so.

I think that's been part of my problem or part of my artistic mission.

You know, I lost my home and my family when I was 16 when my single mother died.

And that was such a rupture in my life because I literally became homeless in that moment as well as orphaned.

And, you know, I felt like I didn't have a home in Glasgow anymore.

And so when life changed and I was sort of pulled and, you know, sort of blown away by the winds that took me to New York, I always look back at my hometown thinking, gosh, I wish I wish I had a home there.

What was calling me back?

But then also, as the country has changed and as Glasgow has changed, I felt like I was losing it in the mists of time.

And so my writing has been about bringing me home all this time.

It's about sort of claiming my own past, which felt like it was lost in time, but also sort of bringing myself home from New York.

Yeah.

I don't know where the next subject of the next novel is going to be.

And actually, for the first time in my writing career, that's a wonderful feeling because I have been dealing with my home, my homeland and and trying to get at some pain that I carried inside myself.

And now who knows what I'll write?

It does.