That has allowed me to delve, free from the risk of spoilers, into the ever-helpful resource that is Lostpedia.  Essentially a “Lost” wiki, Lostpedia contains a myriad of pages on the characters, events, places and even mythology of the show, providing the kind of detail that you can too often miss when simply watching episodes.

Series 6 hasn’t been exactly the most bewildering but it’s still been helpful to remind myself of a few facts and get my head straight about the compelling “parallel universe” basis of the series.  It’s too early in the series to speculate how things might end, but there are so many options and possibilities, as Lostpedia outlines, and while we’ve had several mysteries explained there are still more to be cleared up.

Alas, like a briefly-passing portal in time, my ability to delve into Lostpedia will be… well, lost as of tomorrow, as the USA airs the next new episode, Lostpedia fills with new spoilers, and I have to wait for the next installment to arrive in the post from Justin.

I can’t wait.  I wonder what I’ll do once Lost is over?

On Saturday we did a long walk along the Victorian magnificence of Union Street, down to the beach and along the sand to Donmouth, then along the riverside to the Brig o’Balgownie, through Seaton Park, down the Spital and back to town.

If you happen to be in Aberdeen, I can highly recommend it as a circular walk – it’s a long way but there’s so much to take in, and you see a thorough synopsis of the city from the grey North Sea to the best of both medieval and 19th century buildings.

It’s a city brimming with history, civic pride, and a quiet, austere charm.

I took some photos, though not that many.

All are in black and white – Aberdeen is that sort of city.

Very unfortunately, they’ve had to cancel the event – due to stock problems at their warehouse they don’t have enough copies of the book in, and don’t want to do an event to promote a book of which they only have five copies.

That’s a sign, at least, of their faith in me to attract more than five people.

It’s a real shame for it to be cancelled at such short notice, and perhaps we can arrange an alternative date. I am sorry, as are the store, to anyone who’d been planning to come along.

Nicole and I had already made arrangements to go through and make a weekend of it, so the silver lining is that with no book stuff to worry about we can have a nice, quiet, relaxing wee holiday in the Granite City instead.

As I tweeted at the time, it was fun watching the increased exasperation of the conductor as he tried to explain the situation to the obligatory drunk in the carriage.

Among the work was, of course, my Edinburgh book reading on Tuesday night at South Bridge Blackwell’s.  I think it went well – there was a good crowd, people laughed in the right places, and I wasn’t too nervous.

My major flaw of talking too fast was reportedly non-existent, but replaced, I am told in constructive feedback, by a tendency to walk about too much while reading.  I guess I am still learning this whole “being an author” malarky.

In fact, someone told me that as they were buying their copy at the til after the reading, the member of staff serving them said that it wasn’t their sort of book personally, but they were persuaded by my reading to buy it – which was really lovely to hear.

I enjoyed the reading a lot – among the crowd was Niall, who features in the book (though he’s disappointed he tails off somewhat from the plot after chapter 5).  It was the first time I’ve read to someone who is a part of the story.

There was also a  good number of people unknown to me, mostly I think coming along on the back of the store’s mailing list – many thanks to the wonderful Ann, Events Manager at South Bridge Blackwell’s, for plugging the reading, not least through the sign in the window that I now realise I should have asked to take as a memento!  Among the folk I didn’t know at the event was a woman whose in-laws came from Belmullet in Ireland, and thankfully she agreed with my not entirely complimentary analysis of the village.

Thanks to everyone who came along, especially those “strangers” who I didn’t get a chance to speak to personally afterwards.

Next up on the tour is Aberdeen this Saturday – 12pm at the Langstane (not Union Bridge) Waterstone’s, then a week today in Stirling.

Please do come along if you’re in the area.  I promise not to walk about too much while reading.

The article reports my book launch – yes, the same book launch that was nearly a month ago now. You’ve got to love our cutting edge local fourth estate. Seriously, though, I really am grateful for the coverage.

However, they curiously write:

31-year old Varwell is not expecting to make a major impact on Scottish literature with his book “Up The Creek Without a Mullet”.

I have no recollection of saying that whatsoever. It is perfectly true but I am pretty sure I didn’t say that to the Courier, who in any case didn’t send a reporter to the event along with the photographer.

At least I now know who all those busts were of.

It’s been such a busy week since I last blogged – besides a couple of work trips to Edinburgh and Stirling there hasn’t been much else to report, except for a trip to Dunfermline at the weekend to visit family.

I don’t remember the last time I was in Dunfermline, and it’s always struck me as one of those bland, drearily post-industrial places that is commuterland for either Dundee or Edinburgh.

In my ignorance, I write off much of Fife as such.

It’s easy to forget, though, that Dunfermline is a place with deep and rich history – it was capital of Scotland for a few centuries, with significant royal connections, and its story goes back to medieval times, and no doubt before.  In more modern times, it was the birthplace of world-famous industrialist and philanthropist Andrew Carnegie.

I was vaguely aware of this history, but had no idea that it manifested itself in one or two remarkable things – the huge Pittencrieff Park that puts Kelvingrove Park to shame, the phenomenal Abbey and surrounding ruins, and a stunning medieval old town that conjures up an atmosphere similar to St Andrews, Old Aberdeen or other such places.

In amongst it all you almost expect to find the culture, wealth and stripe-scarfed youth associated with an ancient university, and even though it is quite close to St Andrews I wonder why a place with such important royal and ecclestiastical connections did not gain such a seat of learning.

Now of course, there’s two sides to every town, and I also saw the grimmer side of Dunfermline.  It’s doubtless a place with numerous blights – drugs, crime, faceless retail sprawl, Dunfermline Athletic FC, proximity to Kirkcaldy and so on.

But the atmosphere and history of the Abbey and surrounding park and town reminded me that this little country of ours is full of history, beauty and many surprises, even to those who live here.  You can read much more the town’s Undiscovered Scotland and Wikipedia pages.

As you can see, I took several photos.  The medieval architecture lent itself to moody black and white, while the bright winter sunshine and clear skies cried out for colour – I am not sure which captured things better.

The lit salon last night was an interesting experience. I spoke to I think around fifteen local writers about a range of issues relating to my book, and although I was nervous presenting about travel/humour to a group with mainly fiction interests, I received some positive feedback at the end and since then by email.

Because I wasn’t primarily there to sell and entertain, like at the launch, it required a different sort of presentation that I did at the launch, and I found I learned a great deal from the enthusiastic, thoughtful crowd at the salon through discussing the process of writing and being published.

For anyone interested in writing in the Highland area, it’s well worth getting involved in this vibrant and growing group.

I am in Stornoway today for work. It involved an early start (and a somewhat bumpy flight), and I head on later tonight to Edinburgh. I land about 15 minutes after Niall gets into town after being away, so hopefully we will have put the world to rights after a pint or two.

For the first time in ages, I was out on Saturday night to see some live music: local band Shutter were launching their new online home, playing a gig at Hootananny.

They were excellent, as usual, and played a few new songs alongside some older ones.  Compared to when I first heard them, their sound has evolved somewhat – though the same sounds remain in their brooding, evocative, gothic and often almost horror-soundtrack feel.

Their new tracks are great – you can download some here – and I look forward to seeing more on their site in due course.

I had told myself that with the launch of “Up The Creek Without A Mullet” I’d not take my eye off the ball of putting finger to keyboard on what I hope will be the sequel.  However, Mondays (which I take off so I can try to write)  have lately been eaten up with various unavoidable bits and pieces, including travel for work, and it might be a frustrating couple of weeks before I can properly get stuck in.

I am casting my mind, however, to tomorrow night, when I am speaking to the Highland Literary Salon.  As I mentioned before, this is a gathering of local writers, and I have been asked to talk about writing alternative travel narrative, writing humour (yes, I think that means my jokes are now officially good), and the process of getting published.  That’s all fine, but I need to think about what extracts to read as an opening.  If you have have any suggestions of parts of “Up The Creek Without A Mullet” which are particularly evocative of humour or travel (what do you mean you’ve not read it yet?), then post your thoughts below.

Oh, and tomorrow night’s event is open to all – Glen Mhor Hotel, Inverness, 7.30pm – but I’ve been warned by the gaffers at HLS HQ that because it will be a gathering of writers, “things could get geeky toward the end”.

That’s cool, I can do geeky.  iPhone on stand-by…