Category Archives: Uncategorized

Paul Cameron’s Cameron the Capercaillie

My Mum has joined facebook. She loves Scottish Wildlife and follows a few photography pages including ‘Paul Cameron Images‘. I had an excited phone call from her to say he’d posted a beautiful picture of a capercaille as his wildlife highlight of 2016:


Not only that, she’d commented on this picture, saying how beautiful it was and how lucky he was to see a capercaillie and she told him about my book ‘Can’t -Dance-Cameron: A Scottish Capercaillie Story’. She then proceeded to tell me the most exciting thing was, he’d replied with this:

Can’t Dance Cameron – my wife bought me your daughter’s book for my Christmas last year. She says I can’t dance but I say what does she know?!! And yes, I consider myself to be very, very lucky to have encountered one of these beautiful birds and even luckier to have had my camera equipment with me.

Brilliant! Thanks Paul, you made my Mum very happy!

Find Paul Cameron Images on facebook here. My facebook Emily Dodd author page is here

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Posted by on January 30, 2017 in Uncategorized


Cover Reveal: Ollie and the Otter


I’m so excited to share the cover of my new picture book, Ollie and the Otter, illustrated by Kirsteen Harris-Jones.

It’s published by Kelpies in March 2017. Right now there’s a big ship full of boxes of Ollie, slowly sailing from China to Scotland. BUT… they sent one ahead by plane, I got an advanced copy already! It was so exciting to see it. I even read it to a very small, captivated (and sleeping) child, baby Zoe:


Everyone else has to wait until March and that feels like ages away.

The story is set in the Cairngorms and it’s about an Osprey called Ollie and an Otter called Rory. It’s about friendship, fun and fish splatting.

The story begins when Ollie has just caught a fish. This is rather challenging for osprey – check this out this video from BBC Highland:

Now Ollie needs to learn to throw fish because he wants to make friends with Isla, a female osprey. He has to drop a fish mid air and she needs to catch it below him for that to happen. Yes that really does happen with ospreys in real life. How awesome is that? In real life mating follows but never fear, there is no mating in this story aimed at children aged 3 to 6 years.

Rory helps Ollie by making targets for him to aim at and he even dresses as an osprey (with water weed wings) to get pinged through the air via a seesaw branch and MacAntlers the stag:


Unfortunately, all that focus on throwing isn’t working. The fish won’t go where they’re supposed to go. Will Ollie ever throw a fish to Isla? Will they ever become friends?

The theory behind the story

This book is loosely based on Sir Ken Robinson‘s educational theory ‘the element’. Robinson observes that if you’re not naturally good at something, schools tend to make you do more of it – think extra maths lessons. But actually, the research shows if you do the things you are naturally good at – the things that make you, you – it could be dancing or art or football, as you do more of that creative practice your confidence rises. Then you get better at everything, even the things you find hard, even maths. I love maths so I don’t mean to pick on that as an example, it’s just one of those common ones that gets people at school.

So for you, being in your element is doing something you love and you don’t want it to end, where time sort of stands still and you might forget to eat even. It could actually be maths for you. If that’s your thing then you need to do more of it! And if you’re not sure what your element is, think back to what you loved doing in childhood. That’s likely to help point you towards it. Or you might not have tried it yet – try new things because you never know what might be your thing.

Ollie and the Otter is published on 16th March. You can pre-order it from all good bookstores online. I recommend using Hive because they pay taxes, they’re cheaper than amazon and every time you order from them you support your local independent bookshop – you collect the book from there and they get a commission.

You could also order Sir Ken Robinson’s brilliant book ‘Learning to be Creative’ while you’re at it. This includes all the theory behind his book ‘the element’ but with extras. It’s really, really good.


Posted by on December 6, 2016 in Uncategorized


Made on Our Land: Aboyne


I felt a bit scared when I received a commission to write and perform a piece of spoken word responding to a nine minute silent film from the fifties. These were my thoughts:

Are you sure you got the right person? What if two minutes is the maximum poem length I can write? What if there’s not enough time to craft the words before the performance? What if I can’t write it? What if it’s rubbish? What if I perform it and everyone hates it?

I also felt a tiny bit excited – it was a new challenge, a chance to learn and grow. Shona had seen a previous film poem I’d written, and she loved it enough to ask me to respond to something she was working on. She wanted to pay me. That’s got to be a good thing, right? I chatted to my sister and she said:

You should have at least as much faith in your writing as the person who is commissioning you, they’ve seen what you do and they think it’s good.

So, after asking to see film footage… I eventually said yes!

I think writers often think you’ve got the wrong person – especially if we’re asked to do something new. That’s every new book by the way. But at some joyful point during the process you’re totally alive and loving it. And then you think maybe you just got carried away in the moment and what you’ve written actually isn’t that great. And you spend a long time rewriting. And you just have to get on with making it better because it’s your job. If you’re a fire fighter there’s not time to mess around thinking “What if I’m not good enough to put out this fire?” You just use your experience and do your best. And it’s like that with writing. But with much lower stakes – no danger of death – just a looming deadline.

I was also asked to be a panel guest, after the event. I was okay with that bit. Chatting is easier than writing.

The Event

Around eighty people with an interest in local history and archive film came to the cinema in Aboye in Aberdeenshire. They watched a wartime film encouraging people not to leave the Highlands in search of the big city and another film encouraging planting crops in allotments to make the most of the land we have. They were brilliant and really entertaining!


Guests were encouraged to chat about the films while they watched. Then came the two Taggart films. A mother daughter film making duo. The Taggart family moved from their family business at the granite yard in Aberdeen to a rural farm and rural life. The films documented their new life on the farm over the first year. Planting, building, celebrating and working the land.


I’d been thinking a lot about origins and geological time.  I’d just been to see ‘Deep Time’, the spectacular opening ceremony of the Edinburgh International Festival. Projection of volcanoes and stars documented the history of Edinburgh and the Earth itself with music from Mogwai.

I loved the theme. I’d listened to podcasts and read articles interviewing researchers and professors about it. I studied geophysics so I had a bit of background knowledge but it was great to build on that. I decided to make the piece about origins and geology – with a focus on granite because of the Taggart’s move from the granite yard and with Aberdeen being the granite city.

I watched the film a few times and researched granite. The potatoes reminded me of the brown potassium feldspar crystals. There was a section of the film where a pyramid roof was being lifted up onto a building, just with people and long wooden leavers. It was amazing to see them do it like that – it made me think of the ancient Egyptians building the pyramids and how granite and marble cutting is the oldest known industry in the world. I decided to start the piece with a quote from Isiah which is about looking back to where you’ve come from – it was written after the Israelites had left the granite yards of Egypt. It’s also about digging – there’s lots of digging in the film.

Every day I watched the film again, searching for meaning. I worked on crafting and shaping the words and timing them to fit with images. I finally got the words organised into three acts. I sent this summary to Shona:

1: Where are we from?
All about origins. Where are they from? (the Granite Yard) and where are we from as humans. Layers in the landscape and in geological time. Establishing the family came from Granite. This was the rock that built them. Missing the former things. What granite stood for. What it made for them. How they underpinned everything. With metaphor of granite as the baserock for all our continents – everything.

2: Where are we now?
Building again – starting something new. Building on the former things. Renovating. Comparing and contrasting the new rural life with the old one.

3: Living in the present
Coming to acceptance of the new thing. Realising the beauty in agriculture and yearly cycles of time instead of the vastness of geological time. Being present and grateful in the moment. Celebrating the small things. Ending on the beauty of the question and a question about the origin of everything – refers back to the big bang.

Off to Aboyne

On the way up to Aboyne, the curator of the project, Shona Thompson read my words while she prepared questions for the panel discussion. She was excited – she thought they were beautiful. If she was pleased, I was okay. After that, I relaxed.

That evening I was munching fish and chips in the car in Aboyne in the rain (yes, welcome to Scotland) and I realised something.

I used to be so nervous before event, I couldn’t eat a thing.

I said that to Shona and she laughed and made a comment about how that had clearly changed! I chuckced the chip papers into the bin and we drove to the cinema.

And I still felt nervous but not ‘about to vomit’ nervous. I loved watching the other films and when it was time for me to perform along to the last film I felt okay. I’d done my best in the time I had and I’d really enjoyed the writing process along the way.

Since the performance I’ve had a lovely message through my author facebook page:

Hi Emily,

I attended Made on Our Land event in Aboyne recently and really enjoyed both the films and your poem. I am gearing up to enter my third year at Gray’s School of Art in Aberdeen and have been thinking about the imagery of granite you used and its potential to form an element of a painting. I wondered if your poem is available online anywhere as I would be interested in reading it.

So that’s super exciting! I love the idea that Shona responded to some archive film by curating a cinema screening and tour and I responded to Shona’s curation and to Deep Time with words and now someone else wants to respond to all of that and my words with a painting.

So I’m putting the words up on my blog for that person who got in touch. These words were written for performance not page, plus it’s not the same without the film but hopefully this will be useful and maybe even enjoyable. I wrote it in two weeks so there’s potentially bits I’d change and add but here it is.

Made On Our Land: 

Look at the rock from which you were cut,
and to the quarry from which you were dug. (Isiah 51:1)
Beneath gables and in dry stone walls, stable.
The lines that mark the edges of our land.
Built over time.
Hand over hand.
Lines and layers in rock.

From the latin, granum or grain.
The earth that poured forth potatoes in coarse grained granular form.
Muscovite. Biotite. Hornblendtype amphiboles.
We carried them in bowls. The potatoes.
On our first year on Marywell farm.

I missed the quarry.
Cutting the basement rock of our land.
The batholith that crumples continents into mountains.

I could hold time gone by
captured in crystals that grew as the rock cooled.
Felsic, intrusive, igneous.

Look at the rock from which you were cut,
and to the quarry from which you were dug.


We needed to keep building.
Renovating outbuildings, along with our patterns of thinking.
Laying rock upon rock in our new lives.

We planted seeds and removed stones that once served us.
Stones that were now a stumbling block.
We shared the food we grew, giving thanks for as long earth kept on giving.

We cut farrows in fields, instead of lines in continental bedrock.
Those were good times.

I missed the dust in my fingernails,
They were brown now with earth.
Calcium meets potassium feldspar.
And I long to touch granite again…

Cut by the Ancient Egyptians
into the blocks that made the pyramids strong.
Cut from Alisa Craig
to make curling stones that glide along ice towards gold.
Cut into headstones and polished to commemorate
what once was and once… had meaning.

It’s past, it’s all in the past now.
Could the present ever lead us back there?
Looking back through time, looking through windows.
Looking close.
Plain polarised granite in thin section.
Light revealing so much beauty
in the ordinary of our lives.
We crushed the wheat to make flour for our daily bread.

They say time is a healer.
In time I saw the joy in cultivating the land,
our land, Scotland.
The rewards came for our toil.
We didn’t just take, we planted.
It felt kinder somehow, than the quarry.

I smelt the hyacinths in our sheltered window.
They made me smile.
The sun was warm through the glass
as photons met chlorophyll and became sweet food inside the plant.
I watched the same process out in the field
The harvesting of sunlight mixed with carbon dioxide and we have all growth and life.
All of that plant and the plants to come in one small seed.

As straw and turnips grew strong, the sheep returned our offerings with wool for the jumpers we needed to keep warm.
They kept us warm when the first snow fell, and lasted until spring.

“Can something come from nothing?” He asked.
He was wearing his sky blue woolly jumper.
“No no” I replied. “It started as a seed”. I laughed a little at his question.
“But seeds are so small, how can something this big come from something tiny?”
And I realised all at once,
all my certainty had made me miss
the wonder and mystery
that comes within a question.
Like plain polarised granite in thin section.
The closer you look,
the more questions you ask
the more beautiful it all becomes.

Made on Our Land is part of Britain on Film, a major project from the BFI National Archive, Regional and National Archives and rights holders from across the UK that reveals new and unseen stories of our lives through the history of film. Unlocking the UK’s film and TV history – our national collection, much of it previously unseen – the season will open up our local histories and provide unprecedented online access to our screen heritage. As part of a major programme of digitisation, which started in 2012 and continues until the end of 2017, Britain on Film offers ways to discover, explore and engage with the newly digitised films. Britain on Film is supported by Unlocking Film Heritage awarding funds from The National Lottery.

Thanks to Shona Thompson for having the faith to commission me and to Joey for asking me to share the words online and to everyone involved in the project. Find out about Made on Our Land and the ongoing tour here.

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Posted by on September 12, 2016 in Uncategorized


Lady Scientist Stitch and Bitch

It’s tomorrow night at the Storytelling Centre. You can bring knitting. It’s almost sold out. Turn to page 45 of your Edinburgh International Science Festival Programme and you’ll find it. Illicit Ink‘s ‘Lady Scientist Stitch and Bitch’: Lady scientist

I’m playing Emma Darwin. That’s Charles Darwin’s wife. The lady scientist with which I’m stitching and bitching are:

And the brains behind the operation, that is the lady with the time machine who’s been stopping off at various points throughout history to collect us all – your compere for the evening is Ariadne Cass-Maran.

GET TICKETS HERE. Join the event on facebook here.

I should maybe point out that I’m not really bitching – I’m presenting the final monologue of the evening. It’s a spoken word piece I’ve written as Emma about her thoughts and questions on life, faith, feminism, science, death and love. I’m also sewing the tree of life onto a cushion and reading one of the letters I actually wrote to my dear Charlie (the real Emma wrote it – you know what I mean). I’m not saying anymore because I don’t want to spoil it! 


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Letter from the Cat

oscar ears

Hi Emily, this is Oscar. Your cat. We’ve been living together for three months now and I have a few things I need to say. You seem to like writing. You’re always doing it. So I thought I’d write to you.

Firstly, I do not appreciate being called furry pants, silks or ‘my gorgeous lovely’. My name is Oscar.

Secondly, when I drink the water in the sink that you’ve just washed your hands in, it’s because I like the way it tastes. I’d rather you not lift me down and place me in front of my water bowl. If I wanted to drink from my water bowl, I would drink from my water bowl. I know where it is.

I singed one eyebrow on the candle on purpose. It’s hipster. Please stop pointing it out to visitors.

I would prefer not to be referred to as ‘a cartoon comedy cat’ or for you to point out my, as you so eloquently describe them ‘Albert Einstein old-man ear tufts’. I am distinguished. That’s how I’d like you to describe me and my ears, if you feel the need to describe them at all.

And when my eyes are closed and you say “Oh, Oscar, I love your ears” I pretend I’m sleeping but I do appreciate it. It helps me to understand you do really love me and my ears. I’d just prefer it if you didn’t point them out to visitors. I feel conscious about going grey at such a young age and I don’t want to draw attention to it.

With purrs and affection,



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Posted by on March 16, 2014 in Uncategorized


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Don’t Forget the Snowdrops

Earlier this week I was running forest families workshops with children at Gorebridge library as part of Love Your Libraries week. During the workshops I told to the children why I like to go outside. I explained I feel relaxed and it gives me ideas for stories.

Six workshops later, I prepared to head back to Edinburgh. I’ve got writing deadlines just now so I had no time to lose. But then I changed my mind. I realised making the time to go outside would make all the difference to my time inside writing. I needed to do what I’d been telling the children. I needed to go outside.

It was a sunny day so me and the Educator I’d been working with took an hour out before our trip back to Edinburgh to visit Vogrie Country Park. We were met by these snowdrops:


That hour made all the difference. It was so good to see the snowdrops and remember there’s a world changing and growing all around us. If we stay indoors we miss out on moments like this.

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Posted by on February 6, 2014 in Uncategorized


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Home Sauna Kettle Kit

I’m having kettle trouble. The lid broke.

It still works, you just have to be there to switch it off. It’s fine, I’ve managed like that for two weeks.

But then I filled it up for a hot water bottle. I was off in the other room, busy. I’d forgotten the lid issue.

Suddenly I realised that bubbling noise had been going on for ages….

OH NO QUICK the kettle!

I opened the door to… a sauna!

Almost all of the kettle’s contents had evaporated, the air was thick with steam. I braved the boiling water and switched it off.

I’m editing a Greener Leith podcast about repairing things – the message is we don’t need to throw things away.

The kettle is my nemesis. It broke in less than three years, designed to fail to force me to buy more, to keep me consuming.

Do I get a new one?
Home sauna kit anyone?

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Posted by on February 2, 2012 in Uncategorized


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