By Michael Pedersen

Copyright scotsman

We’re cantering into Autumn, and I’m sitting in a freight container (turned apartment) peering over a grassy plateau towards Loch Long. I’m at Scotland’s idyllic artist retreat centre, Cove Park. Since I was last here it’s had a pucker facelift, the hobbit houses now have both grass and gorse on their roofs, and the Highland Koos have made babies, which are brazenly bonnie. Meanwhile, “Welcome Week” (previously Freshers’ Week but renamed to disassociate it from its reputation for crapulence and rogue antics) has roared on at Edinburgh University. This must mean one thing: my tenure as their esteemed writer in residence has come to an end. The position – perhaps Scotland’s most heralded literary appointment in the university circuit for writers – dates back to the early 1970s. I now, humbly, add my name to a roster of alumni that includes Sorley MacLean, Norman MacCaig, Liz Lochhead and Alan Warner. READ MORE: Muckle Flugga by Michael Pedersen review: ‘an extraordinary first novel’ My closing events in the position were two back-back-back bobby dazzlers – Fern Brady into Simon Armitage. That’s one of Scotland’s foremost comedians, now a multi prize-winning author, and the UK’s Poet Laureate and an Ivor Novello-winning songwriter. Fern, I hosted at Edinburgh’s Futures Institute to a packed-out crowd of about 450, the tickets having disappeared in around 24 hours. The focus of the event was her incredible debut book: Strong Female Character – a stunning autobiographical account of how she navigates the world as a late-diagnosis Autistic adult in the entertainment business. Alongside this, moving accounts of a working-class upbringing in Bathgate and, apposite here, a savvy exploration of the trials she encountered entering the world of Edinburgh University and it’s generous serving of “elitely” educated students. What can be done better, of course, was a hot topic in a heartwarming and hilarious night. This book, this human, is a beacon, as will be the novel she eventually produces. The week after, Simon was on playful form, giving a rousing and humour-studded reading from his new book, Dwell, and sharing some insights into the thinking behind it. He even agreed to play my makeshift version of the “One or Tuther” game from his superb podcast, The Poet Laureate Has Gone To His Shed, which is, as it sounds, a fast-fire round of questions with an either or style answer. Naturally, I slung such agonising dilemmas his way as Burns or Shakespeare? Red sauce or brown? Spice Girls or Derry Girls? and David Attenborough or Judi Dench? as well as the loaded Scotland or Wales? As to which way he swayed, I’ll not breathe a word. I will note, however, that both of the above events ascended into lush feasts at my favourite Edinburgh restaurant, The Black Grape, where the conversation galloped into kookier and quirkier realms still. Head chef Owen Morrice, a fellow ex-Porty High pupil, has sculpted something special here. READ MORE: Jack Lowden on recording his first audio book, Michael Pedersen’s Muckle Flugga The Creative Writing Conference closed my public-facing proceedings – a gathering of publishers, agents and supremos from across the literature sector to espouse the joys, and strains, of working in the arts. This included readings from the winners of the university’s Writing Prizes. Some standout moments from that were a precocious first year winning one of the awards (look out for Ignacio Gil Pineda) and also Grace Murry’s triumphant piece, her debut novel having already been acquired by Penguin’s Fig Tree for publication in 2026. Onward to some zesty reflections on the WIR epoch. I adored this role – it celebrates literature university-wide, and allowed me to champion writers I admire and the city’s unparalleled literary chutzpah. The event programme burned brightly – we used bigger and bolder spaces than previous WIRs and saw huge numbers of humans waltz through the doors. Crucially, I ensured each of these events was absolutely free and open to one and all. Tensions between any university and the city at large are not uncommon – it’s true of most places with a hefty university population – so any work I could do to open up these spaces and implore “unmatriculated” dwellers along, I did. This included members of my family, old school mates and ex-colleagues, many of whom had never set foot in a university building before. There’s more I could have done, for sure, but I take a humble pride in this. In addition to the aforementioned, I hosted, in this role, the lush likes of Alan Cumming, Sara Pascoe, Nicola Sturgeon, Jackie Kay, Irvine Welsh, Conor O’Brien (Villagers), Val McDermid, Bernardine Evaristo, and heaps more. What a gaggle of beauties, I’m grateful to them all. I truly hope the university safeguards this position in perpetuity – it’s a stunner of a role. To the fab new writer in residence, Mary Paulson-Ellis, it’s a big bon courage from me. No doubt she’ll soar. Meanwhile, I’ll be doubling down on my Edinburgh Makar-ing and continuing to tour my new novel whilst servicing the international translations (and who knows maybe adaptations) to come. My final list of new book recommendations: Ocean Vuong’s The Emperor of Gladness; Nicola Sturgeon’s Frankly; Irvine Welsh’s Men In Love; Michael Mullen’s Goonie; and Hollie McNish’s Virgin. The Scotsman’s arts newsletter is now sent twice a week – subscribe today