The Problem With Time Travellers

Why every historical novelist secretly wants to strangle anyone who says, “I’d love to live in Victorian Scotland.”

Why every historical novelist secretly wants to strangle anyone who says, “I’d love to live in Victorian Scotland.”

For centuries, very clever people gave spectacularly bad advice with complete confidence. More inconveniently, they sometimes gave very good advice for entirely the wrong reasons.

The places with one volunteer, six visitors a day, and the best stories in Scotland.

Museums preserve the sights of history beautifully. They rarely preserve the smells. A journey into the forgotten sensory landscape of the past—and why we've all been imagining it wrong.

Come for the scenery. Leave with a nickname you can't repeat in church. A light-hearted guide to Scotland's remarkable ability to turn profanity into affection.

A tour through the surprisingly inventive world of Victorian Scottish food, where potatoes worked overtime, and nothing—not even the sheep's spare parts—went to waste.

Victorian death rituals weren't simply superstition and solemnity. Behind the customs lay one last act of care, performed quietly by neighbours, friends, and family.

Apparently authors are supposed to have websites. Consider this mine: "Books, occasional updates, and a steadfast commitment to keeping my breakfast off the internet." or "How decades in forensics tends to discourage oversharing."