Little did I realise when I set out for my daily challenge walk in the Scottish Highlands, that it would change my life.
i had been born and raised on the Scottish East Coast just outside Dundee, but my heart was in the Highlands on the high peaks of the Munros. The Munros are a collection of the highest peaks in Scotland, all over 3000 feet (approximately 900m) high, and many keen hikers take the challenge of walking or climbing up all 282 of them and there is even a website where you can register those that you have successfully mastered. Personally I do not do it for the challenge and don’t bother ticking them off the official list, but I do it for the sheer enjoyment of the awe-inspiring scenery and the peace and tranquility up on the peaks and tops.
Today I was walking up to Ben Cruachan on the way toto Oban in Argyll and Bute on the West coast. I set out at first light from the rail station at Falls of Cruachan and took the well defined path through the woods up to the dam holding back the reservoir serving the Cruachan hydro-power station which is buried underground at the base of the dam so as not to intrude too much on the natural beauty of the area. Instead of following the usual circular route up the West side of the reservoir, I turned right to walk up the rise up to my first Munro of the Day, Stob Darbh, with its fine views South-East down to Dalmally and the peaks beyond around Loch Lomond, It was a fine day and there was only a light mist haze up on the tops as I followed the ridge and climbed up to the peak of Ben Cruachan, at almost 3700ft (1126m ) the highest in the area. There were stunning views down to Loch Awe , the River Awe, and the Pass of Brander down in the Glen to the South, and over Loch Etive and Loch Linnhe towards the islands to the West. The views were well worth the effort of the climb, and i could see why it was one of the most popular of the Munros, particularly for beginners, it was not a particularly challenging or long route and it was just awe-inspiring up there.
As I was still feeling fresh and it was glorious afternoon, rather than take the usual route back down to the dam and the station I decided to go off the beaten track and head West to drop down to Brochroy , which, although a difficult and undefined route with some slippery steep slopes, I felt was within my capabilities as an experienced Munro walker. However on the final stretch down to Brockroy, I slipped on the loose scree and slid on my back for a few yards before getting back in control, but not before ending up in a small pool, Unfortunately when I tried to stand up there was a sharp pain in my ankle and it was obvious that I had twisted my ankle and I had a really bad sprain. I probably should have called out the mountain rescue team, but I was not too far from civilisation and decided to continue. Finding a broken tree branch to use as a makeshift crutch I managed to hobble down to the small hamlet of Inverawe about 1/4 mile away, but there was no way I would be able to make it to my proposed stop-over about 2 miles further on at Taynuilt.
I approached the first house I came to, a whitewashed stone-built crofters cottage in a small parcel of land, and was just about to knock on the door when a attractive middle-aged lady with the common fiery ginger hair of highland heritage came round from the back of the cottage, took one look at me and rushed over to help.
“You poor wee thing, what have you done to yourself, come on in and let me have a look at you, but before you sit down let me put a sheet on the settee, your back is filthy and wet.” and she led me into a bright cosy sitting room, which was warmed by the central heating from the wood-burning boiler and cooker range .
“I’m Jamie MacDougall, I’m from Invergowrie, near Dundee, I’m over here on a walking holiday and coming down from Ben Cruachan I thought I would be adventurous and come down the slopes directly to here instead of going back down the path to the railway station. Unfortunately I slipped and damaged my ankle, I wonder if you could call for an ambulance to take me into the nearest A&E hospital to let them have a look at me.”
“That wasn’t a good decision, there have been people badly injured coming down that route and if you had called out the rescue team you would not have been very popular. Whilst they will not criticise you to your face, people who take excessive risks are not in their good books. They are all volunteers who give up their time to help others, and don’t like their time being wasted by people they consider having not fully assessed the risks.
As a strange coincidence, I’m also a MacDougall, Susan MacDougall, but then it’s a common enough name around here. My car is in for a repair for a few days so I can’t take you. I could call an ambulance but you’ll have a long wait, or get you a taxi if you wish, but there’s no need. I trained as a nurse, I’ll have a look at your ankle for you, if that’s ok, to see if you need a hospital, but first we need to get you out of those filthy wet clothes, or you’ll have pneumonia as well as a sprained ankle. There’s a towelling bathrobe behind the bathroom door, get stripped and wash off any mud and grit and we’ll see what I can do. there is a stool in there so sit down so as not to further damage your ankle”
“Susan,” I called out a few minutes later, “I’ve got a problem. I can’t get my jeans off over my ankle it is too sore, would you mind helping me.”
“I see your problem, the bottom of your trousers are quite tight and if we try to force them over your swollen ankle it could cause further damage. Your trousers are ruined anyway from sliding down the scree, it will be easiest just to cut them away, OK ? Don’t worry, as a former nurse I am sure I’ll not see anything I’ve not seen before.”
A few minutes later I was sitting on her settee, cleaned up and wearing her dressing gown with my foot up on a padded stool, and she was having a good look at my foot.
“Can you move your foot? Yes, that’s good, It looks like nothing’s broken, it’s just a nasty sprain, let me clean it and bind it up.” Susan cleaned up and put cream on my various cuts and grazes, put a cold compress of a pack of frozen peas on my ankle to help reduce the swelling, and then bound it up tightly with an elastic bandage to keep it rigid. She made a really good job of it, her nursing experience really came to the fore.
“You will need to rest it for a week or two or three, depending on how bad it is, and not walk on it too much. Where are you staying ?”
“ I haven’t got anywhere booked, I came over on the train today and was going to book into a Hotel or B&B in Taynuilt.”
“It might be best if you stayed here in my spare room, at least for a few nights until you start to heal so I can keep a check on your ankle, and by then I should have my car back, and you can decide what you want to do.”
“If it is not too much trouble to you, that would be brilliant and so kind of you, I’m not sure that I’ll be able to help out anyhow, but I’ll try not to be too much bother.”
“Och, it’s no bother, I’ll be glad of the company. however you can’t sit around in just a dressing gown all night, have you got a change of clothes?”
“I only came for a long weekend, with one spare shirt and a spare pair of jeans in my backpack. The jeans are the same as the ones we have just destroyed so I wont be able to get them on and off easily either.” With that, Susan went into one of the other rooms and a few minutes later came back with some clothes in her arms.
“I couldn’t find any trousers that would comfortably fit you, I don’t have many and those I do have are quite tight fitting, and you are a bit bigger and stockier than me, but I found a tartan kilt skirt and woollen pullover top that should fit. The skirt is pleated and is almost like a kilt anyway, and the jumper is not too girly, do you think you could manage with them for a day or so. You didn’t say if you had any clean underwear, but if you are a typical man, you probably did not bring any spare with you, so there are a couple of pairs of my plain cotton briefs for you. Unless you have any better ideas, hobble next door to the bathroom and get freshened up and dressed with what I have found for you.”
Not having much choice, after getting cleaned up after walking the hills all day and having my fall, I got dressed in what she had given me and feeling a bit silly and embarrassed, I went back out.
“That wasn’t too hard was it, the clothes actually fit you quite well, and clothes are just clothes, it doesn’t matter whether they are men’s or women’s, and they actually suit you. Sit down we’ll have a cup of tea and you can tell me all about yourself.”
We sat and chatted and I gave her a potted history, 28 years old, only child, my parents passed away, single, working as a freelance web designer, mainly from home in my shared rented flat in Invergowrie, but occasionally in client’s offices, a bit of a computer geek with a not very active social life. The only time I felt at ease and in tune with the world was walking up on the tops of the hills. Like all men, I probably told her a lot more about my work, designing web sites for companies selling stuff by internet mail-order, than I did about my personal life, and in truth there was not much to tell about my personal life it was all pretty boring.
Susan told me she was 42, divorced and had reverted to her maiden name, no children, and since she left nursing was working as a travel writer, mainly for brochures, personalised to particular hotel and attractions, of the the sights and places of the West coast and the Islands. She frequently went on her travels to research and get the feel for the atmosphere of the the areas but spent most of her time at home in Inverawe. She had bought the cottage with the proceeds of her divorce settlement, and lived quite a simple life and managed to keep her head above water with the income from her writing. Between her travelling, her cynical opinion of men following an unpleasant divorce, and living in a small collection of houses that couldn’t really be classed as a village, her social life was as lacking as mine.
“If you have a distrust of men and are quite cynical about their attitudes, I’m especially grateful that you are letting me stay here.”
“At the moment you need me more than I need you and, besides, with that ankle I can run a lot faster than you.”
She had prepared a pot of vegetable and lamb broth earlier and we sat down with a big bowl of it served with chunks of fresh home-made Scofa Farls (soda bread) and I felt a lot better with a full stomach and a warm feeling inside.
Susan cleared up having told me to just rest my ankle, there would be plenty for me to do when I was more mobile, and then joined me. bringing a bottle of wine over and we sat and chatted until bedtime. I told her that I had researched my family history and that a few generations back some of my ancestors were from the Airds Bay area, about 4 miles away, and it was not impossible that we were loosely related. “Just for fun would you like me to check it out, I’ll get you a DNA kit from Ancestry and we can get it checked against mine.” Although it was a long shot and the same clan name in Scotland does not necessarily mean any blood relationship, merely at one time ancestors lived in the same area, she agreed to give it a try.
“ I assume that you didn’t bring any pyjamas with you and that you were proposing to just sleep in your underwear, like most men away on a casual weekend, but that won’t do here. Your body is still in a state of a shock and you need to keep warm. I have some pyjamas that will be ok, unless of course you would prefer a flannelette nightie” she said with a big grin. I was beginning to warm to her sense of humour.
Other than buttoning the wrong, having calf-length trouser legs, and being a soft cotton material with a forget-me-not pattern, the pyjamas were nothing to worry about and I hobbled to her spare bedroom, changed out of my skirt and jumper (my skirt ?) into the pyjamas and quickly dropped of to sleep after all the exertions of the day.
i was up bright and early the next morning, and, still in the pyjamas, managed to limp to the kitchen and put the kettle on for a coffee, boiled milk to make some porridge, and put some bread under the grill to toast, and set the table for breakfast. All the clatter from the kitchen and the cooking smells soon woke up Susan and she joined me in the kitchen.
“You’re earning your keep already, I can’t remember last time someone cooked me breakfast, but I told you not to put any weight on that ankle, let it recover and then you can cook for me as much as you like.”
Susan said she had lots of jobs to do outside, but that I couldn’t help her as I needed to rest my bad ankle, so I asked if I could use her computer while she was busy. After I got dressed in my skirt and top, she signed me in, I set up an account for my use, and logged her out to keep her files private, and checked my emails. I was surprised that for such an out-of-the-way place the network speeds were quite good, probably not good enough for gaming or video streaming, but perfectly adequate for emails and general internet use. I checked that I could access the ‘cloud” storage that I used for all my work files, and everything worked fine and I would be able to continue with my projects. To pass the time I also had a look at Susan’s web-site that she used for her travel guides and business advertising to find out a bit more about her and what she did.
“ Susan, did you get your website set up professionally or did you just do it yourself?”
“I just set it up myself, why?”
“The actual guide information is well written but, if you don’t mind me saying so, manoeuvring around the website is quite clumsy and isn’t too user-friendly. It’s quite good for a personal web site, but doesn’t have the right professional image. Would you like me to re-organise it for you? I can do it offline so it will not go live until you are happy with any changes, and of course there will be no charge, count it as me paying rent for my stay.”
That helped to fill my time over the next few days, along with carrying on with some of my other website projects, and although I was still not very mobile, none of my workload suffered. Susan was delighted with the changes I had made to her website, as well as making it generally slicker it also limited free information and encouraged people to follow up from the sample extracts and purchase the full guides. So as well as getting commission payments from the hotels and attractions she featured and who paid her to write the brochures , it also started bringing in more retail sales.
Susan had provided more clothes, skirts, tops and cardigans, most of it stuff that she didn’t wear anymore, as I needed to change every couple of days, and also a few slips to help the skirts sit better, and a full new pack of cotton briefs. I was now used to wearing her clothes and didn’t feel embarrassed or out-of-the-ordinary anymore, in fact I quite liked the feel of the softer materials.
Like a lot of computer geeks and web professionals. I wore my hair long in a low ponytail, it seemed to go with the territory, people half expected geeks to be a bit unconventional. I found that using Susan’s shampoo and conditioner gave it a lot more body and it looked much fuller and healthier, and overall I thought that with the hair and the clothes, I looked quite feminine.
When Susan’s car was returned by the garage, she asked if I wanted to leave and if I needed driven anywhere, but I was quite happy to stay where I was as my ankle was still very painful,,and I wouldn’t be able to get my spare jeans on, and she seemed pleased that I was staying. One day without thinking I answered a knock on the door, before Susan could get there first, and it was one of the neighbours, Maggie Campbell, with some post that had been delivered to their house by mistake. Luckily before I could speak, Susan appeared took the post and introduced me as her cousin Jamie, and that I would be staying with her for a while, as I had badly sprained my ankle coming down from the tops and couldn’t get about easily. In Scotland Jamie is quite common for either a boy’s name or a Girl’s name, so it was an easy choice to make.
A few days later Susan took a phone call and came over to me with a concerned look on her face.
“I’m going to have to go away for a few days to visit a few hotels and guest houses over on the Isle of Mull, will you be able to manage on your own? I am quite happy for you to stay here while I’m gone.”
“Thank you so much for trusting me, you’ve only known me a few days, I’m touched. I would really prefer to stay here, my ankle is still very sore and I can’t walk far, but I can get around the cottage ok.”
“There may be a problem, Maggie knows that I go away a lot, and keeps an eye on the cottage for me. Now she knows you are here I think she might pop over to see if things are ok. She has seen you wearing my clothes, and will obviously think you are a woman. I think it best that while you are staying here you continue as a woman, but if you want, when I am away I can get you some men’s trousers and shirts.You were wearing that chunky woollen top when she was here which hid the fact that you don’t have breasts, but in anything finer it will be obvious. I suggest that you wear a bra and I will sort something to fill it out, can you cope with that?”
i agreed with her that I would stay in female clothes until I left, I had a change of clothes that would get me home, and asked her to just get me another pair of trousers, but with a slightly wider leg fit. I was soon wearing one of her bras which she had filled with small bags of birdseed, which gave a quite realistic effect, with enough weight and flexibility to jiggle when I walked. The weight on my chest and shoulders from the bra straps felt uncomfortable at first, and I found I had to pull my shoulders back a bit so that my upper arms did not keep brushing against my ‘breasts’, but I soon got used to it and began to not notice. Susan also encouraged me to use a bit of makeup, although she didn’t use much herself, she said that no woman would dream of not wearing lipstick, even around the house, and that most girls my age felt the same about mascara.
So when Susan left for her trip, I was looking a quite passable female, wearing a light boat-neck summer top which clung tightly to my bust and waist, and a mid-length loose summer skirt. She had also brushed out my hair into a more feminine style with a pony tail held high with a scrunchie and the sides and back hanging loose over my ears and neck, and shown me how to apply a day-cream, moisturiser, lipstick, and mascara. It all felt a bit weird, I had never thought of wearing women’s clothes before, but out of convenience because of my sprained ankle, I had just fallen into a routine and felt perfectly comfortable presenting myself as a woman.
Before she went, Susan had been shopping for food provisions to keep me going, and when having breaks from working on the computer, I made some simple but tasty and nourishing meals for the freezer, Lasagne, Cottage Pie, Fish Pie, as well as the basics of bread, ginger cake and shortbread petticoat tails. I was quite pleased with my efforts, but I was a great believer in ‘If you can read and follow a recipe, you can cook’. It may not be cordon bleu, but it was all healthy, tasty, and wholesome.
As Susan had predicted, Maggie came up to see that I was managing ok, and I was glad of the extra efforts at making me appear female. I invited her in for a chat over tea and a slice of my cake and shortbread, and she was very impressed that I had made it all myself.
“ Too many of you young girls nowadays don’t learn to cook, their mothers don’t have the time to teach them and most aren’t interested in teaching themselves, it is too easy to buy ready-made stuff from the supermarkets. In fact, if you watch the TV cookery shows the boys seem to be taking over in the kitchen, it’s a shame, as preparing your own food can be very satisfying and rewarding.”
We had a long chat and asked me more about myself, where I was from, my family, and what I did for a living. Other than changing the gender I told her the truth as I felt that I was less likely to be caught out than if I made up a story. She told a lot about growing up in the village and stories about the area and some of the more colourful characters that had lived there and events that had occurred there over the centuries. I thought it a shame that, mainly due to TV, the world was now becoming a much more national and international place and that regional identities were not nearly as strong as they once were. I felt relaxed and enthralled listening to her tales and the time soon passed until she said she had to go home to prepare their evening dinner. I talked her into staying a bit longer so when she left she was carrying one of my Cottage Pies and some Scofa bread for her family evening dinner, with a promise to let me know what she thought of it all.
Whilst Susan was away, Maggie became a regular visitor. She had loved my Cottage Pie and shared that she had not made one for many years, but that she must start up again. She returned the compliment by bringing up a big pot of broth, full of barley, fresh vegetables, and chicken pieces, which would keep me going until Susan got back. I was pleasantly surprised that she just accepted me and treated me as a woman, and that I was convincing enough even when in close-up conversation. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a long conversation with anyone, other than about work, sport, or what had been on the news, and was enjoying my afternoon teas and chats with her and seeing a totally different perspective on life.
Susan soon returned, in a really happy mood. Her hotel visits had gone down well, and she had discovered new places to visit to add into her guides. She now needed to spend a few days recording her notes and updating her brochures, so for the next week I was chief housekeeper, preparing the meals and keeping the place tidy while she was working busily. She had told me that a few of the hotels were really impressed with her new website, and they had asked whether her cousin Jamie could look at and improve theirs, which I promised to follow up. I made a few calls, found out what was required, and got positive interest, and prepared and sent out a few quotations
I was glad to see her back, and had made a special effort to look presentable, it was strange that I felt the need, i would never have bothered before I came here . I had been experimenting with make-up while she was away, and had applied the full works to welcome her back, tidied up my hair and put a bit of a wave in it and had borrowed a lovely sky blue scooped neck sleeveless shift dress from her wardrobe. The slippers I still had to wear for my bad ankle didn’t exactly set of the outfit, but I was still not up to wearing shoes.
“You are looking particularly glamorous tonight, you make me feel dowdy. You seem to have really got into your role as a woman.”
While I was preparing and serving up one of my Lasagnes with salad and fresh focaccia herb bread, she went and freshened up, put on a dress for the first time since I had arrived, and glammed-up her makeup, and when she came into the kitchen she looked beautiful and if I could have walked comfortably and had not been dressed as I was, I could have jumped around the table to hug her.
Over dinner and wine, I told her about Maggie’s visits and Susan said that I had probably spoken to Maggie more in the last week than she had in the last couple of months. I told her about all the stories and folk tales that Maggie had related to me and suggested that she could maybe, as a change from her travel guides, weave all the tales into a story based on Inverawe and Brochroy and the surrounding area. She thought that that would be a pleasant change and arranged for Maggie to come over to see what she thought of the idea, and to repeat a lot of the tales directly to Susan, so that nothing got lost in my retelling.
My ankle, although not fully recovered, was now not nearly as painful, and I could get around a lot more easily, and I thought that it would soon be time for me to return to Invergowrie and my former life, which I was not particularly looking forward too. Rather than being a reclusive, unsociable computer geek with no close friends, I had now settled into an enjoyable life in the cottage at Inverawe with its beautiful views of the hills and the River Awe flowing though the glen, with a close relationship, albeit as effectively sisters, with Susan, and had learned how to form social bonds and relationships from my times with Maggie, I felt a much happier, more outgoing and more rounded person.
“ Susan, I think I have imposed on you long enough, my ankle is a lot better, I have been thinking that it’s time I went back home.”
“That’s an awful shame, I’ve got used to having you around, I’ve really enjoyed your company and having someone to chat to, why not stay for a while longer, after all ‘home is where the heart is’ and in the words of Rabbie Burns, ‘Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.’ I think this is where you belong.”
“I think you may be right but I will have to seriously consider it. I need to go back to Invergowrie to sort things out with my flat and clear up a few personal matters, my head is up in the clouds at the moment and being back over there will help me get things clear. I would love to stay here but it would be a major change in my life,”
“Do what you have to do, there will always be a place here for you, my cousin Jamie can stay as long as she, or even he, likes.”
I went back to Invergowrie, settled in my flat and into the work routine, but I couldn’t get Inverawe and Susan out of my mind, I kept thinking back to how relaxed and contented I was there, and that I missed the company. A month later, having given up my flat, packed up what belongings were worth taking with me and given the rest to charity shops or into the local rubbish tip, I loaded my cases into the car and set off.
I had made an appointment with a hairdresser on the outskirts of Perth which was on my way West, and had told them that I was a man and I was going to a fancy dress party, and that I wanted to look convincing as a woman for the night. I’m sure that the hairdresser didn’t believe me, but she gave me the last appointment of the day when all her other customers had gone. I had my hair trimmed and styled, my eyebrows shaped, my nails trimmed and polished, and a professional makeup. What she thought of me I don’t know or particularly care, as I wouldn’t be going there again, but she did an excellent job and was very professional and she got a big tip.
Three-and-a-half hours later, having stopped off to get changed at a large service station on the Perth ring-road, I arrived at the cottage, with my hair hanging in waves over my shoulders, with full make-up, and wearing slim-line stretch denim jeans and a chunky woollen jumper and sling-back sandals. When she opened the door, Susan just beamed at me and gave me a big hug.
“ My god, you are looking gorgeous, I’m a bit jealous, get yourself in and you can tell me all about what you have been up to.”
We got my cases unloaded, and all my things hung up or put away. I hadn’t brought any male clothes with me, as far as I could see I wouldn’t need them for the immediate future. I had done a major shop at the stores in Dundee before I left, and, as I had taken some of Susan’s stuff back with me, I was able to shop freely, dressed up and made up, and try stuff on to make sure it fit and suited me and now had a full female wardrobe of my own from inside out and head to toes. I was also now wearing stuck on silicone breast-forms which looked, felt and moved almost like the real thing and left no doubt that I was now living as a woman.
I was now able to get about without any difficulty, although my ankle muscles still ached a bit, and was confident enough in my appearance and manner to visit some of the hotels Susan had lined up for me to review their web-sites and soon that replaced all my previous clients I had serviced from Dundee. As the hotels had on-line booking systems and constantly offered promotions and changed information about events, it was a steady business and I was soon making a comfortable living keeping them updated.
I was having an after-work drink and meal in the bar with the owner of one of the hotels on Mull and he told me that it made a change to deal with a computer wizard who could talk in proper English (or Scottish) and explain things in a way that he could understand, and not babble away in techno-speak and buzz-words and that it was a pleasure dealing with me. I was quite pleased with getting an order from him and enjoying his company, but over after-dinner drinks he started getting a bit ‘touchy-feely’, nothing major, just touches on the hands and arms and moving closer to me, but enough to make me feel uncomfortable. Before it could get to the stage where I would have to warn him off, I made my excuses, thanked him for the meal and his company, and left with a goodnight peck on the cheek. I’m sure he was disappointed, but he was the perfect gentleman, and behaved himself on future occasions.
When I got back to the cottage, I told Susan all about it, and she shrugged her shoulders and grinned.
“ Look, nothing happened, he didn’t grope you or touch you where he shouldn’t, it was just a bit of flirting. He is the same with me, but he is harmless really. What you have to realise, and you seem to have missed out on a lot of this in your sheltered life, is that men and women flirt with each other all the time, the charm and the smiles are just another way of keeping a happy working relationship and increasing the chances of getting your way in things. It is a game, you will have to learn to play it. As long as it doesn’t go beyond flirting, just go with it and enjoy it, and do the same back to your male clients. flirting and being friendly does not mean that you or they are looking for an intimate relationship.”
“Thanks for that, I was a bit worried, but what you have said makes sense, I will try to remember that in future. By the way, I got the results back from Ancestry, it seems we are related, 4 generations back, which makes us 3rd cousins, if you give me the name and birthdates of your parents I will try to link them back to my family tree which I have already researched back to the 1700s.” This seemed to please Susan too, as she too was a bit rootless.
It was a relatively easy exercise and I was quickly able to link the two branches of the family, and from my records give Susan her family history, where people had lived, their occupations (mainly crofters or craftsmen, no known aristocracy or famous people), their children’s details, and a few victorian-era photos. Although it was a bit of a loose connection between us, It did give us both a feeling of family ties which neither of us had in the current generations.
Susan had now finished her book incorporating Maggie’s stories, but including some others that had been passed down to her by her parents and grandparents, and asked me to read it through before trying to find a publisher. Rather than a dry history of the area, with a few folk tales, she had written it as a light-hearted, almost humorous, record tracing a family’s trials and tribulations over the generations, changing the names but generally following our own family tree through Scottish rebellions, clan power struggles, natural disasters, family joys and problems. I thought it was a delightful read which drew you into being part of the family, I suggested a few minor changes, most of which were expanding some of the stories rather than criticisms, and as a final check we invited Maggie over to see what she thought.
Although Maggie by marriage was a Campbell, traditionally neighbours, rivals and sometimes enemies of the MacDougall clan, she was a MacDougall by birth, as were many of the others in the villages nearby because this was their clan country, and she was quickly totally engrossed in the book. She recognised some of her stories but was amazed at the way that Susan had interpreted them into the history of the family and asked if she could have a copy if it was published.
Susan tried the company that published her travel guides, but they were not in the business of fiction novels, however they passed a copy on to a larger company, who immediately snapped it up, did a proof read and final edit, and ‘The Adventures of the MacDougalls of Taynuilt’ was soon on the shelves of the local bookshops libraries and schools. Before long it had travelled to the regional tourist spots of Oban, Loch Lomond, Fort William, Pitlochry and Stirling, and even down into Glasgow . It was selling well, not a major blockbuster but still a good commercial success, and the publishers asked if she could do a follow up.
For the next few weeks we went our separate ways doing research on the West coast islands from Islay in the South to Skye and Lewis and Harris in the North, talking to the old folks to get their stories before they got lost into the mists of time. Having been given the lecture by Susan on how to make people at ease by a bit of mild flirting and charm, I even managed to have a very
useful and informative discussion with my over-friendly hotel owner on Mull, only this time I played the touchy-feely game back at him and we enjoyed each others company a lot more. I was now totally at ease as a woman, and other than when I was in the shower or getting ready for bed, the fact that I was still male never crossed my mind, living as a female just came naturally to me.
Although I helped Susan with a lot of internet searching and filtering of information to get useful background to a lot of the stories we had heard, Susan was deeply engrossed most of the time in turning this into good readable material, so I found myself passing time chatting to Maggie and some of her friends she regularly got together with in each others homes for tea and cakes. At first I had difficulty getting into the easy way that they all talked to each other about every subject under the sun, and had particular problems with discussions about their personal life and medical problems, but soon learned to relax with them and began to think and discuss things with them much more openly.
“Susan is really up to date, well into writing and researching on her computer, and you Jamie are quite an expert we hear. Most of us have got left behind by the technology, and being so remote here it would be really useful to be able to use the internet and email, is there any chance that you could help us get started. They do classes in the library in Oban but it’s a bit of a drive, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable being lectured by someone I don’t know, and probably a patronising young man baffling me with computer-speak.” Maggie, as the spokesperson for the group, asked me at one of the get-togethers.
As a computer professional I was constantly upgrading my equipment, there was always something better, faster, more-flexible, better screen display, more memory etc, so I had a couple of old PCs and laptops, that, although out-of-date, were perfectly adequate for beginners, and I agreed to help.
For the first few sessions it was mainly teaching them the basics from how to connect them up, turn them on, the difference between different programs and filing systems, at first we just worked offline, using the computers as stand-alone machines . The girls soon got over their initial wariness and fear of the technology, and although not particularly well educated they were quite bright and quick to learn and soon wanted to get online to find the big world out there. At the cottage we had an excellent broadband link, but we didn’t want to disturb Susan’s writing, so we arranged for a connection at Maggie’s for them to have a few trial sessions to see whether they wanted to get their own homes connected.
After a few sessions investigating web sites and learning how to use search engines they were all soon connected themselves, online shopping, emailing friends and families, and I noticed the difference in their general confidence and approach to life and their awareness of what was happening in the world outside. People are often frightened of the unknown, but once they face their fears their lives can change.
Christmas soon came along, and I got Susan to join our computer group for a celebratory meal out at the big hotel in Taynuilt. we got glammed up for the evening out, rolled-up and set our hair, and applied dramatic evening make-up. Although most of my underwear was basic and practical this was a special night out so I wore my best sexiest lacy bra and pantie set, which gave me a deep warm feeling of contentment, and slipped into a new evening dress I had bought for the occasion, a gorgeous lavender soft flowing silky affair, with a tight bodice nipped at the waist with a full just-above-the-knee skirt. I felt so feminine and was never before so glad that I had decided to live as a woman. We had an excellent night out with the girls, super food, friendly company, and the hotel really gave us a lot of attention. I was shocked when the girls gave me a thank-you Christmas gift for all the help I had given them, they had pooled together to get me a matching set of diamond earrings and a pendant necklace, and when I immediately put them on I cried tears of joy.
I went to sleep that night trying to come to terms with my life, and what I wanted to do with it, and the next morning over breakfast I told Susan that I wanted to have a serious chat with her and asked her to put her writing aside for the morning.
“I really enjoyed myself last night and just felt at home as one of the girls, but I don’t want to go on living this false double life, I need to decide whether I can continue like this, go back to being a man or go forward to becoming a full woman, I am so confused. What makes it more difficult is my relationship with you, I love you, but I don’t know myself whether that is as a sister or as a partner in life.”
“ It’s your life, and only you can decide, I can’t advise you. If it helps, I am not looking for a man in my life, my marriage was not the best, and I do not intend to repeat it, no matter how nice the man appears to be. I now look on you as family and am happy for you to continue living here whatever you decide, although I do think that both of us are more comfortable and happy with you as you are. Don’t rush into things, you are still young and there is no hurry, you have a full life to live, and only you know what you want from it.”
I gave it a lot of thought and two weeks later made an appointment with our local doctor to talk through the process of transitioning, but she needed to refer me to a gender specialist and unfortunately I would have to go to either Glasgow or Inverness, both of them long tiring trips. Nonetheless, after long discussions with the specialist for my reasons to want to change, and how I had been living recently, It was agreed that we could start the process and I was given my shot of hormones which would gradually change my body, and a prescription for my daily androgen blocker and oestrogen tablets. Feeling excited and elated, but apprehensive about how it would all work out, I returned to the cottage in a bit of a daze.
Over the following months life went on whilst I eagerly awaited for changes to show. The mental changes came to me first, I became much more emotional and teary and was told that I was subject to mood swings. My body changes were slower to follow, but follow they did, my breasts started to grow and soon I didn’t need the forms anymore although I had slipped from an artificial C to a natural B, my waist slimmed and the fat redistributed to my buttocks and hips, my leg and arm muscles thinned, and I now had a definite womanly shape.
Susan soon had her next two books ready for the publishers, all written in a similar style ‘The family MacLeod of Harris’ and ‘The Times of the McLeans of Mull’. Each of the book covers was predominantly the associated clan tartan with a typical local scene of a cottage by a river with mountains in the background, and were quite distinguishable on the bookshelves. They were each directed at the local areas on which they were based, but soon followed ‘the MacDougalls of Taynuilt’ into the bigger cities and the series was even getting a bit of a cult following, particularly after they were listed on Amazon and Kindle.
In the summer there was to be ‘The International Clan MacDougall Gathering” at Dunollie Castle near Oban, and we thought it might be a good opportunity to do a bit of marketing for the books, particularly for “The adventures of the MacDougalls’ and we arranged to have a stall in the castle grounds. and for a stock of all the books from the publishers. It was a typical clan gathering with people coming from across Scotland, the rest of the UK and even from Canada and New Zealand. There were the normal highland games, a ceilidh, and lots of stalls selling clan memorabilia, tartan cloth, kilts, skirts, sashes, ties, waistcoats for both men and women, clasps and brooches and general mementos.
We entered into the spirit, wearing plain white dresses with a clan tartan sash adorned with a sprig of bell heather, the clan flower, pinned to our shoulders with a clan crest clasp, and enjoyed meeting fellow MacDougalls, some of whom were undoubtedly distant relations. Susan was kept busy doing book signing and sales, and I found time to display our joint family tree and sell my services to do similar research for many others. As well as being a successful few days. we relaxed in the evening at the ceilidhs, which started out as music and folksong sessions, but after a few whiskies livened up with traditional dances and reels, which we joined in enthusiastically and were never short of partners. I had been to many ceilidhs in the past but never had so much fun and eager participation as I felt at this one, but whether it was because I was with ‘My Ain Folk’, or because of more intense emotions now the hormones were really beginning to have an effect, I’m not really sure,
As a result of the marketing and book signing, all our stock of books were sold, and my sideline of research for family trees had also gone well, and and were invited to similar events for the MacLeods and the McLeans. We were beginning to be a successful business partnership as well as close family and my future was looking bright.
Six months later, i made the biggest decision my life and arranged for my gender re-assignment surgery. I had been living full-time as a woman for just over 2 years, my friends were all women, I looked spoke acted and reacted as a woman, and was the most content I had been in my life, so it wasn’t a hard choice. Susan held my hand as I was wheeled on a trolley into the operating theatre and was still holding my hand when I woke up in the recovery ward. The surgeon came to see me and said that everything went really well, and that once I had fully recovered, the pain had eased, and they were happy that there were no complications, that I could go home to live my life fully as the woman I was now completely.
When I was recovered and discharged, and Susan drove me home, my feelings were mixed. There was still a lot of pain, and it would be some time before I could sit comfortably again. What would people think if they found out about me, could I put up with being a figure of curiosity or gossip, would our friends and neighbours understand? I would be glad to get back into the safety of the cottage and close the door on the world.
We went in and I was shocked to see Maggie and the girls from the computer club, with a big banner ‘Welcome to our world, Sister Jamie’ and a cake with one candle and the words ‘Happy Birthday’. there were big hugs and kisses all round and I had to tell them to treat me gently as I was still sore.
“Susan, why did you have to tell them about me, I was hoping to keep it a secret and just get on with a normal life, now everybody knows about me and I am embarrassed.”
Maggie replied before Susan had a chance “We may be country folk but we’re not simple, we’ve known all along. The very first time I met you, you were obviously a man in a skirt, the way you looked, talked, and moved just screamed “Man” at me. However, you were pleasant enough and friendly and not doing anyone any harm, so I just went along with it, ‘Live and let live.’ has always been my motto. Gradually you began to look and act more like a woman and became totally believable and that’s when I decided to introduce you to the other girls, to let you learn how to socialise properly. After a few weeks when the girls had got to know you and accept you, I told them your secret, and they were shocked and surprised as by then you were just totally natural, but we were all comfortable to let you get on with your life the way you wanted to live it. Anyway, that’s enough of that, let’s all have a wee dram to celebrate your new birthday, here’s to a long and happy life”
The end
This story revisits many of the characters and locations found in the first story in this series. The story can be read stand-alone, but it may be more enjoyable if you first visit or revisit ‘A Walk to a New Life’, which is listed on my stories page. Whatever you choose, I hope that you enjoy it.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
See things through a woman’s eyes
I opened the parcel recently returned from my publishers and with great disappointment read the letter it contained.
Dear Mr. Sinclair, we are sorry to advise you that we do not think that this novel ‘Summer in Sant’Antioco’ will appeal to the reader base at which it is aimed, Whilst the basic storyline of a summer romance at the resort of Maladroxia on the historic Sardinian island of Sant’Antioco is appealing, and the descriptions of the settings are very evocative of the island, we consider that a lot of the personalisation is weak, particularly for the main female characters.
Because of past successes in your normal genre of crime thrillers, we will not reject this completely and will be happy to review this again if you can develop more inner mental strength to their personalities.
We enclose the returned manuscript, but look forward to receiving an amended version and if it is up to your normal standard, we will be delighted to publish it for you.
Yours sincerely.
Charles Haughton,
Abernethy & Carter
“Who on earth do these people think they are? I am arguably the most successful author on their books. I have written over 20 novels and they are stocked in all the major bookshops and are on the shelves of virtually every public library Telling me that my characterisation is weak is insulting.” I almost screamed at my sister Kirsty.
‘Calm down Rory, it is no good shouting at me. you have been very successful up to now, but this book is a bit different for you. All your books up to now have been crime thrillers, this is your first go at romantic fiction, you could not have expected to get it perfect first time.”
“ But it is a beautiful setting, it has a gorgeous heroine, a ruggedly handsome hero, an on-off-on-off-on-again will-they-wont-they, relationship between the two. The writing is up to my normal quality, I don’t understand what more they could want and what they don’t like.”
“I know that you do not normally like me to see your unedited manuscripts, but let me read it and give you my opinion. After all, it is a romance, and it is aimed at a female readership market. Treat me as a female test-driver for it, it sounds like the sort of book I would normally go for.”
“ That seems like a good idea, but treat the manuscript carefully, at the moment I am inclined to go touting it around other publishers rather than do major changes. This has really got me wound up, I am going for a walk up in the hills for a couple of hours to clear my head, and when I get back we can go into Taynuilt for something to eat. I’m really glad we left the city to move out here once my writing started to bring in decent money, it is just so relaxing and good for the soul and some time alone wandering in the hills always calms me down.”
Kirsty and I are twins, obviously not identical but we share a lot of genes and are more or less the same size and colouring. We had been brought up in Dean Village just off the city centre of Edinburgh and in our formative years enjoyed the bustle of vibrant city life together, and later with our partners.
Mainly caused by my self-absorption when writing, my wife, Karen, had justifiably got fed up with the lack of attention and she and I had separated and I had just thrown myself into my work and my personal social life was non-existent. About the same time Kirsty’s husband had run off with his secretary and this left her disillusioned with men, so when the royalties started coming in from my early novels, we decided to have a new start. We had always been close as children and in our youth. Although we both had lots of friends, we were always happy and content in each other’s company. Our parents had moved to New Zealand a few years previously and neither of us had been blessed with children, so we had no close family ties to keep us in ‘Auld Reekie” and were easily able just to sell up and move without having to worry about anyone else. We left the hustle and bustle of the city behind for an extensive rather grand country house on the banks of the Firth of Lorn near Oban in the Western Highlands.
There, we had no immediate neighbours, we had the mountains behind us and the front garden swept down to the sea loch with views out to the hills of the Western Isles beyond. It provided the ideal setting for the peace and quiet I needed when writing, and with Kirsty acting as my business manager, accountant and housekeeper we were both content with our unencumbered and uncomplicated life.
I drove out to the train station at Falls of Cruachan, left my car there and took the well defined path through the woods up to the dam holding back the reservoir serving the Cruachan hydro-power station, walked around the reservoir up to the top of Stob Dàimh with its wonderful views back over as far as the hills behind Loch Lomond, and after sitting there brooding for a while, made my wayback down again. When I got back home I was relaxed and in a much calmer frame of mind, the mountain air and a bracing walk always eased away my cares and worries.
“You know what Rory, this is quite good and is very readable, I am already into the third chapter and am really enjoying it.” Kirsty greeted me as I walked in. “I should have it finished tomorrow or the day after, let me read it through to the end before we talk about it. Let’s get ready and go down for a drink and something to eat in Taynuilt, I think you are ready to face the world again now that you have calmed down.”
Down at the Inn it was not a busy night, it was late season and there were not many tourists about, so we ended up chatting to a couple of what counts as neighbours in these parts, Susan and Jamie MacDougall. Susan was also a writer, mainly travel guides and clan history books, and she and her wife Jamie lived at Inverawe about 3 miles from us. Jamie was a web designer and we used her to keep my IT system, social media, and website up to date.
“Rory has just finished another novel, a bit different this time, a romance set in Sardinia, it is a big change from his normal crime thrillers. His publishers were not too impressed and have asked for a rewrite, but I’ve started reading it and am getting engrossed in it.” Kirsty told them despite knowing that I liked to keep my books under wraps until they were published.”
“ Susan, as a fellow writer have you got the time to read it and give us a professional opinion.”
“ It is not really my area of expertise, but if Rory doesn’t mind I would be happy to do that for you.”
“ That’s brilliant we’ll email a copy of the draft over to you when we get home.”
Three days later we all got together again at our house to review ‘Summer in Sant’Antioco’ sitting on the terrace overlooking the garden and the Firth, making the most of the evening Spring sun, taking in the calming smell of the sea and watching the gulls and cormorants soaring overhead. Despite the unusually mild weather, the amusing views of the sea otters basking just off the shoreline and the wine we had shared, I was on edge and uneasy awaiting their thoughts on the book and was not really enjoying myself.
“ Ok girls, what do you think? I want you to be honest, because my publisher was not too impressed, but I don’t know whether it was just his man’s take on a romantic novel aimed at women?”
As she felt that she could be more open with me than our friends and neighbours, Kirsty jumped in first.
“I loved the main themes of the book, the storyline and the details of their meeting on the beautiful mediterranean island, but I agree with the publishers that the heroine of the story, Katherine, all submissive and swooning and pining for her man, is like something out of Mills & Boon or Barbara Cartland, and is out of touch with the way modern young women think.”
“ I thought the same,” added Susan, “ nowadays women are much more independent and self-reliant, and although they still fall head-over-heels in love, and can be silly about it, it is much more on their terms, thinking about how it affects their careers and the way they live.”
Jamie decided to soften it a bit by changing direction.
“ It is no secret around here that i am transgendered, and coming here, being nursed back to health by Susan, and developing into the woman I now am, gives me a bit of a view from both sides of the gender divide. As a man, I thought a lot like you and would view the strengths and weaknesses of Katherine in very much the same way you have. However, living and experiencing
the world of women my whole approach is now much different.”
“ What do you mean by that?” I interrupted her.
“If you read some of Susan’s clan histories, you will see that, when the men were more interested in settling old feuds and fighting their battles, their strong-willed determined womenfolk were scheming behind the scenes to keep their families and clan safe and secure. You can read a lot of historical tracts about all the successes of the menfolk, but the supportive and often very significant assistance of their women was never fully recorded. I have found that women have always been the glue holding families together, often pushy and feisty, keeping their men on the straight-and-narrow.”
“Are you saying that men have only been successful because they have been pushed along by their womenfolk.”
“Just think about how successful Susan has been with her writing, and how much you depend on Kirsty to manage your business affairs. women have never changed, but now the way they are seen and portrayed in literature and film has moved on from Victorian times and reflects a new positive reality. Barbara Cartland’s heroines are few and far between these days, Katherine needs to reflect that, and to appeal to your women readers, you really need to change her character.”
“ Wow, Jamie, that was quite a critique, I need to think about what you have just said.”
“ As your business manager, I couldn’t agree more. you have been successful with your crime novels, because as an ex-policeman, and as a man, you had the experiences to build familiar attitudes and personalities into your characters. You knew how they would think and act and you were able to transfer your life history into your heroes. However you are now writing to appeal to women and if you want to succeed, you have to learn to think more like a woman, see things through their eyes.” Kirsty really started pushing me.
“ She’s right,” Jamie added, “When I first came here I was very much the man, with all the male attitudes, but gradually living, socialising, and working with women, and finally deciding that’s how I wanted to live my life, I have seen a totally different side to the female character, but unfortunately it is one that as a man you can never experience and incorporate into your writing.”
“ Are you saying, Jamie, that only women can write for women, and that men always characterise women as weak, I can’t agree. There have been many great examples of male authors writing very successful novels and plays featuring strong female main characters, Shakespeare was able to be very successful at that, with Portia in The Merchant of Venice, Katherina in The Taming of the Shrew and even Lady Macbeth.”
“ You are right, but there was a change in Victorian times for authors to portray women as weak and submissive to reflect attitudes in society at the time, but attitudes have moved on, women have moved on, and the way you have Katherine and the other women in your book think and act needs to move on too, if you want to make a success of your new style of books. As a fellow author, albeit in a totally different sphere of literature, i can tell you that you have to reflect the attitudes and lifestyle of your readers” Susan finished of for them, “you need to think about how you can achieve that.
“ Wow, girls, I did ask you to be honest, but that was a bit hard hitting. I have taken in what you have said, and obviously need to think about it all.”
We enjoyed the rest of the evening with general social chat, watching the glorious sunset over the hills and islands to the West, with me deep in thought, before it was time for Susan and Jamie to return home.
Over breakfast the next morning with Kirsty I raised the subject of yesterday’s conversations.
“ I have been tossing and turning all night thinking about what the three of you said. I have lots of ideas for storylines, but if I can’t get my characters right, it is never going to work. I will have to go back to writing the crime novels, even though I feel I was getting a bit stale at that and running out of fresh ideas. Obviously you can correct or adapt a lot of my ideas, but it is not the same as if it is all coming directly from my thoughts and approach. Somehow I need to tune my mind in to yours, Susan’s and Jamie’s. Let’s see if we can all get together a bit more often, not to discuss anything in the books but just so that I can find out what you are interested in and what your attitudes are, listen to what you are saying and how you express yourselves about life in general. What do you think?”
“ I think it will do you good, you have never been particularly at ease in the company of women, and if you don’t mind me saying so, there was always a gulf in understanding between you and Karen, and I can understand why she felt that you had to separate. Let’s start with the basics, if you are writing for women and need to get into their mindset, you have to learn to think of yourself as a women. I obviously don’t mean going through transition like Jamie, but you need to be reminded that you should be thinking like a woman. You need a woman’s name, both to help with the writing, but also for when the books are published. Believe me, when I am browsing in bookshops or libraries I automatically tend to pick out books by female authors. Have you got any preferences?”
“ It has never really crossed my mind, but I always felt that Mum’s name, Samantha, was a very feminine name and ‘Samantha Sinclair’ has a ring to it.”
“ Ok Samantha it is, and from now on that, or Sammie, is what I shall call you when we are not in company. You need to sit and watch some RomCom and weepy films with me, listen to what the female characters say and how they react to events, and listen to more daytime TV, which is mainly aimed at women. to hear the kind of things that interest them and form their attitudes. You don’t necessarily have to like what you are watching , or even agree with the things they say and do, but you have to at least understand where they are coming from.”
“So far, so good, I can go along with all that.”
“Next, to give you constant reminders of who you are writing for and the attitudes that your characters should have, I suggest that you wear a skirt when writing. It is a totally feminine garment and every time you stand up or sit down and have to adjust it, it will tell you who you are supposed to be. I have a few skirts which should be suitable for you, they have adjustable waistbands so should fit you comfortably. I think that should do for a start and get you thinking in a bit more of a feminine frame of mind. Come on Sammie, let's go and have a look at what you can have and we can sit down and watch one of my DVDs to start your brain-washing.”
In the morning I was wearing a black pencil skirt and open-toed, sling-back sandals that Kirsty had found for me, nothing over-the-top, just enough to channel my thoughts. I re-read ‘Summer in Sant’Antioco’ and began to understand what they had all meant. The heroine, Katherine, was quite timid and shy, and not the sort who would go off to a remote island by herself for the summer.
I went off for a walk in our large garden all the way down to the sea and a small beach on the Firth and sat on a bench to gather my thoughts and work out how I could easily change Katherine’s character without altering the basic storyline.“
“Hi Sammie, you do realise that you have been down to the beach wearing a skirt, don’t you, it is just as well that we are quite remote and private here?” Kirsty smiled at me on my return.
“Oh, I didn’t realise, I was so deep in my thoughts about the book. Still it was nice and pleasant walking down there in a skirt, the breeze cooling my legs and the lack of trousers rubbing against me, I actually felt very comfortable and did not even think about what I was wearing.”
“ Have you had any more thoughts about the changes you are going to make to Katherine.”
“ I think I have a few new ideas, after lunch I will sit down for a few hours and go through the book again.”
We were clearing up after a quick lunch and I was about to go off to my study, when Kirsty stopped me.
“I’ve just had another idea, I was just refreshing my lipstick after the meal and I thought that wearing some might help you to to get into the mood, after all it is a very feminine thing to do and the taste of it on your lips won’t let you forget who you are supposed to be, Sammie. I have some that I never use, because the colours don’t really go with my outfits, you can have them if you want. When you are searching for changes to make and running out of ideas, touching up your lips might just trigger some thoughts.”
I found it a lot easier to relate to Katherine and the way she would react to events in her life and was soon deeply immersed into her character and changed the approach she was having to all the events around her. She became a much more positive and outgoing person, leading events rather than following them, and over the next few days I totally rewrote the book.
Kirsty told me that she would invite Susan and Jamie round to see the new version and get their thoughts about whether it was more appealing to the modern young woman. They caught me by surprise by arriving only a quarter of an hour later and found me extremely embarrassed wearing my skirt and lipstick.
“ You are really trying hard to get into the mind of your female characters aren’t you? let’s have a look at your manuscript and see if it works.” Susan giggled as she sat down.
I left them in peace to read through the copies of my manuscript and wandered down to the beach, it was becoming my haven of tranquility where I could get my mind sorted.
“ You have done really well Sammie. Kirsty has told us all about how you have changed your mindset since she changed your name and got you into a skirt, but it has worked. The book is many times better and more believable and it is a lot easier to relate to what Katherine is going through. Try it with your publishers again and see what they think.” Susan was the first to comment when I returned and found them in the kitchen with coffee and cake.
As I sat down to join them I brushed the skirt under my legs, and they all looked at me and smiled at each other.
For the next two weeks while the manuscript was being reviewed, I started on the next novel, ‘Santorini Sunsets’, where Katherine had moved on from her fling in Sardinia and was to spend the next few months in beautiful picturesque Thira on the gorgeous Greek island of Santorini. It is a really romantic setting and pictures of the small white houses with their pale blue roofs built into the terraced cliffs overlooking the flooded volcanic caldera adorn many travel brochures and guides for the Greek islands.
‘Santorini Sunsets’ was as much an adventure story and travel guide as well as following a whirlwind romance for Katherine, which would unfortunately end up in heartbreak. However her stronger character carried her through all the trials and tribulations and she left Santorini with fond memories and a promise to herself to return someday
As her ruse for me to see things through the eyes of a woman was being successful I continued to wear skirts and Kirsty bought a few tops and cardigans for me to complete what had now become my work uniform. She made a reasonable attempt at styling my hair into something that was vaguely feminine and added mascara and eyeliner to my makeup range, and I was now becoming almost passable as a woman. We continued to socialise with Susan and Kirsty , either at our house or their cottage, and I became much more at ease in their company, and even started meeting them dressed as a woman.
More and more they began to just treat me as a woman and listening to their conversations and chat I found that I could relate to their attitudes and feelings and was able to carry some of that into my writing.
It was with a great deal of nervousness that I opened the letter Kirsty brought in to me from Abernethy & Carter.
Dear Mr Sinclair,
We have re-read your novel ‘Summer in Sant’Antioco’ and, subject to proof-reading and minor editing, will be pleased to arrange publication. Your characters are now much more believable and relevant to the market, and we believe that you will have another success on your hands.
We note that you have signed as the author as Samantha Sinclair. We believe this to be a positive move and will greatly assist in sales, for two reasons. Firstly it separates the readership from your past history with detective novels, and secondly, even in this day and age, female readers still tend to go for female writers and male readers for male writers.
We will be in touch when the book is to be launched and look forward to your next book in the same vein.
Yours sincerely.
Charles Haughton,
Abernethy & Carter
I was delighted and rushed over to hug Kirsty.
“ That is good news it really opens you up to a new market, hopefully you can keep us in this lifestyle for a few more years now. Let’s go out and celebrate. Why don’t we invite Susan and Jamie, they helped to make the new book a success and for Sammie to come out of her shell to be able to change things for the better. As this is a celebration of Samantha’s success, why don’t we go out together with you appearing as Sammie. I know that may sound a bit over-the-top, but you are wearing skirts and some makeup most of the time now, and are acting quite comfortably in the role.”
“I think that is a bit much, I know that it helps with my writing, but I am not like Jamie, I have no thoughts about dressing all the time, let alone becoming a woman, all these adornments are just tools to help me with my writing.”
“ Don’t be such a wet blanket, It will be fun, and obviously they will not object. We can get you cleaned up and made up and I can find something suitable for you to wear. This should be Samantha’s celebration not Rory’s.”
For the next few hours, Kirsty treated me as her Barbie doll, styling my hair, making sure that I was totally smooth and hairless on my body arms and legs, trimming my eyebrows, and shaping and painting my nails.
“One final thing, before you get dressed. Before Jamie started on hormones and developed her natural breasts, she used adhesive breast forms to give herself a realistic figure. When I phoned her to tell her how you were going out tonight, she brought them over for you. Do you want me to fix them on for you or is that going too far.”
“ In for a penny, in for a pound, I couldn’t feel any more unusual than I already do, as long as they can come off again.”
When the girls arrived I wearing an electric blue shift dress with a scooped neckline that showed off my new figure with a hint of cleavage, Kirsty had done an amazing job with the makeup and hair, and we looked almost like real sisters when stood side by side.
“ Wow, Sammie, you look fantastic, nobody will ever take you for anything but an attractive woman, let’s get out and introduce Samantha to the world.” gushed Jamie, giving me a woman-to-woman quick welcome hug.
To minimise any embarrassment for me, we went into the nearby large town of Oban rather than into our local hotel that we normally used. When we arrived at the restaurant Kirsty had booked, I was extremely nervous walking in, and after dropping off our coats and being taken to our table, I looked for a place where I could be inconspicuous, but the girls made sure that I could not hide myself away.
It was a delightful, characterful restaurant with olde-world charm and an easy friendly atmosphere and I was soon able to relax and enjoy the meal and the company. The girls made no allowances for me, the chat was what you would expect from a group of women and they made sure that I was kept drawn into the conversations. After all, we were out together for two reasons, mainly to celebrate my new book, but also to let me become more relaxed and natural with women to give me a better understanding of how my book characters would act and react. By the end of the evening and our journey home I was not thinking of myself as a man out with a group of women, but just as Sammie out with a few friends.
When we got home, we went straight up to get cleaned off for our beds, but I found that Kirsty had laid out a silk nightie for me.
“ I thought that just to complete the night for you in your new role, that you should leave on the breasts, wear a nightie and just enjoy your short time in womanhood. Just give it a try Sammie.”
i was up bright and early the following morning as it was to be a writing working day. When Kirsty dragged herself out of bed and came down to breakfast she found me in what had now become my writing clothes of skirt and jumper, but for the first time first time with my new breast forms still in place. i had put on mascara and eye shadow as well as the now usual lipstick, and with my nails still painted and my hair brushed into the style she had set for me the previous evening, i was ready to spend the day as Sammie working on my book.
“ Good morning Sammie, you are looking good today, I hope it all inspires you in your writing.’
“ i’m getting on really well, I have just finished ‘Santorini Sunsets’ and will do a final edit over the next few days. I think that wearing the skirt and things has helped me to develop a more relaxed style and I am working much more quickly. But when this one is complete I will have a short break from Sammie so that Rory can come back for a few days while I catch up with the maintenance for the house and garden.”
The manuscript was soon completed, and after a proof-read by Kirsty was sent off to Abernethy & Carter. It did not take them long to send an email back to confirm that they were getting it ready for printing and publication, saying that in their opinion the story flowed really well, Katherine’s personality was much more in keeping with their readers tastes and that they expected it to be even more successful than ‘Summer in Sant’Antioco’.
I could hardly contain my delight when i found Kirsty out in the garden and gave her the letter to read.
“ That’s wonderful Rory, it’s so good that all our tricks to get you thinking like a woman have really worked, and hopefully there will be a lot more books to come.”
“ You’re right, i have already got the general theme of my next book buzzing away in my head and can’t wait to get stuck into it.”
“ That reminds me, do you remember that Jamie and her friend and neighbour Maggie Campbell started up a class to introduce some of the village women to using computers? Well, that turned out to be very successful and they all soon became quite confident and capable at it and didn’t need the training sessions anymore, but they had got used to their weekly meetings for lessons, and decided to still get together for tea and a chat, but turn it into a book club. You know the type of thing, select a book for them all to read and meet a week later to talk about it.
Well, Jamie had told Maggie about the delightful book she has just read, and that the author lived locally and Maggie has asked me that, if they chose ‘Summer in Sant’Antioco’ as their next book, she would like you to join their review meeting and talk about how you wrote it and where you got the ideas for Katherine and her adventures and stuff like that. What do you think?”
“Tell her that I would love to do it, and I have a box of the books upstairs given to me by the publishers to use in promotions, so they won’t even have to buy or download it, they can even have it personally signed by the author.”
Maggie went off to make the call while I made us both a coffee and took out some homemade shortbread fingers that Susan and Jamie had given us.
“ I’ve just had a call with Maggie, and she is delighted and will call round to get the books, if you can spare them she would like a dozen. I don’t know how to tell you this, so I will just come straight out with it, but she would like Samantha Sinclair to do the honours, not Rory. You wrote the book as a woman, for women, and she just thought it will be better if the girls met Sammie. Do you still want to do it?”
“ I hadn’t thought of that, and I am not really sure. I know that I am comfortable dressed as a woman around the house, and even in the company of Susan and Jamie, but a roomful of women, especially local women who vaguely know me, is in a different league , I’m not sure if I could handle it. What are they going to think of a man who uses a woman’s name and mixes with them wearing a dress and makeup?”
“ Look. Maggie is coming round this afternoon to collect the books, why don’t you meet her as Rory, and then while I chat with her you can go and get changed into Sammie and see how she reacts?”
Later we met Maggie at the door and I had a quick word with her to explain that Samantha was actually just a pen-name I used to differentiate me from all my previous novels as Rory and after the normal polite small talk I went off to become Samantha while Kirsty looked after her and served tea and shortbread.
When I re-entered the room, wearing a casual skirt and top with my breast forms slipped into my bra, and with a light application of makeup, Maggie didn’t even blink an eyelid or pause her conversation, she just looked at me, smiled and said ‘Nice to meet you Samantha, Kirsty has been telling me all about you and how your work has been helped a lot by wearing skirts.”
“ Doesn’t this shock you, how will your friends at the book club react?”
“ Och no. we all got over that when we first met Jamie, clothes are just clothes, it is the person inside them that counts. Besides you are much more convincing than Jamie was at the start, although she has turned out to be a bonnie woman now. The girls at the book club will be over the moon that we will have a famous author with us, nothing much exciting happens around here and you will liven things up. We normally meet every other Friday afternoon at my house, it is much cosier and friendly than the village hall. If I get the books around to the girls today, that will give them over a week and a half before we meet, is that ok with you?”
“ If you are sure that I will not embarrass anyone, including myself, I look forward to it, When we are finished the tea and biscuits I will carry the books out to the car for you and you can share them around.”
“Thank you so much, I really appreciate it, and the girls will all be delighted to see you, and they will have no trouble meeting you as Samantha.” she said, giving me a hug and kiss before getting into her car and driving off.
As promised, the following Friday, after a few hours of pampering and Kirsty working her magic on me, I arrived at Maggie’s, accompanied by Susan and Jamie for moral support. They often attended the book club anyway and had been very keen to hear what the others thought of ‘Summer in Sant’Antioco’, which they had really enjoyed when they read the draft manuscript.
I was so nervous I was almost feeling sick, not because of the worry of hearing comments about the book, but about how I would be received dressed as a woman in a roomful of women. Kirsty had styled my hair which was now long enough to experiment with, given me a subtle summer makeup and found a loose light summer dress and cardigan for me and I definitely looked the part as Samantha Sinclair.
I was shocked when Maggie answered the door and, instead of letting us in, took us around the side of her house into her garden, where instead of the expected dozen, there looked to be at least double that. She quietly told me that as well as the normal group there were a few others that had read the book online and wanted to join in and see the local celebrity author, and that the garden had a lot more room as it would be a bit crowded in her small cottage
“ Right girls this is the moment we have all been waiting for. Let me introduce Samantha Sinclair, you have all been reading her book for the last week or so and she would be delighted to hear your comments and to answer any questions.”
When she did not get an immediate question from any of the others, she continued “ Let me tell you about Samantha, who some of you may see through the makeup and clothes and recognise and know as Rory Sinclair.”
I was beginning to get embarrassed, i was here to hear the reviews of my book, not to have my life discussed.
,“ As you all may or may not know, Rory lives locally, up by the Firth, and has previously written crime novels. When he decided to try to write a romance, to get into the minds of his female characters, he has taken to dressing and behaving as a woman when writing. I am sure you will all agree that he does it very well and that those of you who didn’t already know would never have guessed. It was very kind of him to come to be with us today, and very brave as well to come as Samantha.”
Maggie had provided a tea of home-baked cake, scones and biscuits to keep everyone happy while we talked, and there followed a lively discussion and question-and-answer session about the storyline and characters, particularly what they thought of Katherine. I thought that it had gone a lot better than expected, and just as I had been with Jamie and Susan, I soon relaxed and enjoyed their company before Maggie surprised me.
“We obviously have all really enjoyed the book and can’t wait for the next one in the series.Samantha, we have enjoyed your company and I am sure that I speak for all of us that that we would love you to come again and give us your professional opinion on other authors and books.”
I was suddenly surrounded by a crowd all looking for me to sign their copies of the book and asking questions, not just about the book and my writing, but also about my attitudes to women and how spending a lot of my time as a woman has changed me. They obviously all knew Jamie and her story and so there was no shock reaction to my cross-dressing, just curiosity. They were a friendly crowd and all treated me with respect and friendliness and I promised that I would come to future meetings when it was convenient. I was not a great socialiser, which was one of the reasons that we had moved up here to this quiet backwater with a house well away from neighbours,
“ Thank you very much Ladies, I was deeply worried before coming here today, but you have made me so welcome, and I have really enjoyed my time here with you all. I will be delighted to come along to your next meeting. Hopefully, before too long I may have another book for you to read and discuss.”
“ That wasn’t too bad was it?’ Jamie asked as she drove me home, I knew that you would have no problems, they were all very accepting of me. It will be good for you to go to their meetings, the more you mix with women the more you will understand us and carry that over into your writing.’
When they dropped me off there was a large Mercedes parked at our house which I didn’t recognise and going in cautiously I found Charles Haughton sitting chatting to Kirsty. It took him a while to recognise me before bursting into a big grin.”
“ Wow Rory, or should that be Samantha, you look amazing, which makes this conversation a lot easier than I thought it would be. Sales of ‘Summer in Sant’Antioco’, have rocketed and it is selling faster than most of your detective novels ever did, we have had to go for a reprint run. We are being inundated with requests for book signing sessions and I wasn’t sure how to get you to handle them.”
“ It all sounds good. Set something up and we can sort out the details later Charles.”
“I am in the area to see family and thought that it would be easier to have this conversation face-to-face rather than over the phone. Obviously you could just be open about it and turn up as Rory, but I’m certain that it would all be a lot more successful if you went as Samantha. You look very convincing, and you have already made your first public appearance today,.Kirsty has been telling me all about you and how you have been able to completely change the tone of your writing and it is a fascinating story.”
“I’m not sure I could do it Charles, i know that a lot of authors write under a pen name of the opposite sex, but I don’t know of any that make public appearances as their literary alter-ego, could Kirsty not do it for me.”
“ I can’t see that working, what if someone asks a few penetrating questions about your story, how would she be able to handle them? Besides you did all the work and had all the ideas, you deserve the attention and praise of your readers. Have a serious think about it and talk it through with Kirsty, and let me know. Obviously if you need any help to get into the role of Samantha, we would help all we can. By the way, ‘Santorini Sunsets” is getting ready for printing and should be out in a fortnight or so, advance orders are amazing.”
When he left, Kirsty and I had a long serious chat, after all she was my business manager as well as my sister.”
“ It’s a great opportunity for you Rory, this could take you up to the next level in recognition of your prestige as an author. I understand that you are concerned that Sammie is taking over your life, but what harm could there be in being her for a few weeks to push up your public profile . With a bit more fine tuning and with me constantly watching you and nagging you when things do not look or sound right, you will have no trouble passing as Samantha.”
“ Ok, but I would want you with me all the time just in case any problems come up and I start digging holes for myself to fall into.”
Kirsty enrolled Jamie to help tidy up the rough edges for me, Whilst not proposing to go all the way down the same path as her, a lot of the traumas and problems she had experienced and how she had overcome them were extremely useful for me, in particular the speech therapy she had gone through really helped me to train my voice to sound a lot more feminine, and she was delighted to be a source of advice to me.
In the month until the signing tour was due I immersed myself more and more into the personality of Samantha, I went along to Maggie’s book club and happily mixed in with them all, learning to join in their conversations and practice my new voice, I couldn’t have got myself ready to face the general public without the friendly treatment from all the lovely women around me, and I owed them all an awful lot.
The initial tour was planned for the main cities and towns in central Scotland, well away from my home area, starting in Glasgow then moving on to Edinburgh, Stirling, Perth , Dundee, Aberdeen and Inverness, before dropping back down the majestic Great Glen to Fort William and home.
It was to be a hectic month of two or three days of signing in each place with a few rest breaks between. Kirsty made sure I was properly prepared, booking us into a spa hotel just outside Glasgow, where I was given a full body wax, had my hair and makeup professionally styled, and was fitted out with several outfits and lots of accessories so that I was able to change my looks depending on the type of bookstore I was in.
The first two or three sessions in Glasgow were a bit of an ordeal as, despite the best efforts of my friends, I was still not convinced that I was totally natural as Samantha. But I was well received by everyone, particularly my readers who queued up to meet me and get a personalised signing of the books they had just bought, and I soon learned to relax and just be myself as Samantha and forget all about Rory.
It was an amazing and successful whirlwind tour, but after a month of living out of a suitcase in hotels, I was glad to get home again and was ready to just switch off. Kirsty, Jamie and Susan, however, had arranged a bit of a celebration party with the women from the book club, before I was allowed to put Sammie back into the wardrobe. It took a few days to switch off Sammie and become Rory again, I had got to be so comfortable as Samantha on the tour. It was like being an actor at the end of a long season struggling to get out of character and be their normal natural self again.
The book sales really took off, both at the signings and following reviews in the press and it wasn’t long before Charles Haughton was pushing for more.
“ Good news Samantha, ’Summer in Sant’Antioco’ is really racing up the best seller charts, and they would like you to do a promotional interview on Morning TV, that is national not just Scotland, you have really hit the big time with this book. You could also use it to promote the next book ‘Santorini Sunsets’ and give that a good kickstart too. Samantha is a really popular author now, you need to make the most of it.”
“That is a different deal altogether Charles, camera close-ups will show any flaw in my looks and skin texture and the sound systems will emphasise any speech problems, It could badly backfire on us and blow the whole thing apart.”
“ Sammie, and that is how you have to consider yourself now, you had rave reviews at the book signings, there was absolutely no suggestion that you were anything other than an attractive, talented author promoting her book, and you charmed your public and went down a storm, stop worrying. For as long as you continue to write the ‘Katherine’ adventures, you have to accept that people will expect to see Samantha Sinclair. and take whatever steps are needed to foster that image.”
He was right of course. I went down to the main studio in Manchester and did the show, even the professional makeup artists found no fault with me. The well-known presenters got me to relax and talk casually about the book and I was able to deflect any questions about my personal life without making it too obvious. After that first interview I was inundated with offers for more chat show appearances, I was suddenly on the media circus going from studio to studio. Sales went through the roof, I, or rather Samantha, was now established as as up-and-coming new author who had really tapped into her reader market.
To get the full market exposure for ‘Summer in Sant’Antioco’, Charles held back on the final publication of ‘Santorini Sunsets’ on the basis as he described it of ‘keep them waiting and begging for more, don’t rush things, stretch it all out a bit.’
This gave me an opportunity to have a long holiday break doubled up with research into settings for future novels. Kirsty and I went on a grand European tour of Amsterdam, Cologne, Geneva, Rome, Naples, Venice, Athens, Monaco and Monte Carlo, and Paris, all of them exotic destinations to use as backdrops to the storylines I had planned. For obvious reasons of passports and legal status I made the tour as Rory, and whilst it was good to be myself again, I did miss Samantha and was glad to get home again, become her once more ,and start on my new book. When I was working I spent all my time as Samantha and our friends and neighbours were soon used to seeing both her and Rory at different times, and were comfortable with me as either.
When ‘Santorini Sunsets’ finally came out., I made sure that I had enough copies for Maggie and her book club, and we all got together review it at one of their regular meetings. As well as enjoying their company, it was good to get feedback from people that I knew would be objective and honest with me, and planned to make a session with them a regular, pre-publishing regime
Over time, I was producing books at roughly 6 monthly intervals, each set in one or more of the main cities of Europe, each with Katherine as the main, or at least a significant, character, and I, or rather Samantha, became very successful, and quite wealthy. I had hit the market for the changed attitudes of today’s young women, who were able to relate to my heroines much better than to the traditional Victorian heroine roles in most romantic literature.
I owed a lot to Kirsty who had set me off in my new career by giving me the best advice I had ever had in my professional life, “You have to learn to think more like a woman, see things through their eyes”
The End