Sandra Ireland's Blog

I waited for the train at Coventry;
I hung with grooms and porters on the bridge,
To watch the three tall spires; and there I shaped
The city’s ancient legend into this:

So begins Tennyson’s iconic poem ‘Godiva’, a setting of the scene, along with a declaration of intent, to shape an ancient legend into something new. My recent trip to Coventry was very much with the same intention, to breathe authenticity into my own attempts to bring the legend to life, to walk in Lady Godiva’s footsteps for just a little while.

A visit to Coventry today presents a marked contrast to the experience depicted by Tennyson in this poem. The spires in question are those of Christ Church, St Michael’s and Holy Trinity and no trace of them can be seen from the modern station concourse, with its automated ticket machines and indoor environment.

Unsure of my direction, I made my way out into the daylight, and followed a pedestrianised boulevard lined with eateries into the heart of the city. It was a good fifteen-minute walk before I spied my first spire, that of the demolished Christ Church, and now operating as a microbrewery. Although the main buildings are long gone, the church tower and fragile spire remain, and soon the other two come into view, beyond the impressive facade of the ‘council house’, where Lady Godiva and her husband Earl Leofric stand solemnly side-by-side above the entrance.

I was staying in the medieval quarter of the city, a landscape unchanged by time, and yet in a devastating way changed forever by the horrors of war, the ruined cathedral bearing witness to the terrible bombing raids of 1940, when a great wave of incendiaries killed over 500 people and obliterated homes and factories. The Herbert Art Gallery and Museum gives a stark account of that night, and the Blitz Museum in the ruined cathedral reminds you of the deprivations of war. A new cathedral was built in the spirit of peace and reconciliation, and now it ‘holds hands’ with its ruined counterpart, as if somehow, they have both been through the wars together.

But I was on the hunt for Lady Godiva, the subject of my non-fiction book, which will be published by White Owl Books next year. Traces of the Benedictine Priory which she and Leofric founded lie a stone’s throw from the cathedrals. The partially excavated remains lie beneath the north side of Priory Row, a section of it now forming a rather-neglected garden. What must have been an interesting visitor centre remains closed due to funding issues, but at the height of the excavations (1998-2001) (Time Team did their bit) the excitement must have been palpable. Fragments of painted medieval glass were recovered, and one such fragment. bearing the face of a blonde woman, caused quite a stir. It now resides in the nearby Holy Trinity Church. Is this the face of Countess Godiva, a wealthy benefactress who may well have earned a special place in the great priory window? We’ll probably never know, but it is fun to speculate.

As I made my way through the city centre precinct, the closest I came to gazing into the face of my subject was when I found the lady’s statue, but she was elevated above mere mortals on her fine steed, and I found her expression oddly remote, as if she has become resigned to the perpetual scrutiny of her naked form. Perhaps she wearies of constant reinterpretations of her story.

I hope she won’t mind just one more!

This past week, I had the incredible opportunity to participate in the From Glen to Page panel at Thrills at the Mills, part of the newly established Dundee Book Festival. The panel brought together a rich tapestry of voices from across the literary landscape, all united by a shared love for storytelling and the folklore of Scotland’s glens and rugged terrains.

My fellow authors were Lyndsey Croal, whose new collection of reimagined folktales Dark Crescent (Luna Press) is out now and Erin Farley, local historian, folklorist and storyteller, whose book Angus Folk Tales (Scottish Storytelling Centre) is a must-read for anyone keen to immerse themselves in the county’s rich oral tradition. We were beautifully shepherded in our discussion by the lovely Morag Hannah, part of writing duo MK Hardy. Look out for their new novel The Needfire (Solaris). I heard a little preview during the Cymera Festival and I promise you, it’s spellbinding!

Thrills in the Mills encapsulated the festival’s ethos perfectly—an inventive exploration of genre fiction and literature that engages audiences in a lively dialogue. Our own discussion revolved around how nature, history, and traditional tales have influenced our decisions as writers and how elements of our oldest stories still have relevance today. It was fascinating to hear diverse perspectives, and the audience was so engaged, the atmosphere beneath the dome of Mills Observatory was positively electric!

I have to say I felt a little rusty- it has been so long since I’ve been included in a panel of this sort. The book world is full of peaks and troughs and since the pandemic all has not been plain sailing for many authors. Lockdown did however allow me to focus on my off-writing career as a facilitator of various courses and workshops and it is always a huge pleasure to meet in person writers I’ve encountered during that time, including Lyndsey, and to see them embarking on their own publishing journey. I also briefly met author Rebecca Brown before her own event and her super novel The Song of the Stag (Ringwood Publishing)  will be next on my reading list!

Thank you so much if you managed to get along to any of the events. Let’s hope the Dundee Book Festival will become a regular fixture and introduce lots more talented local writers to a wider audience!

P.S. We spoke about Fenella – Erin told her story so beautifully. If you’ve never met this amazing Pictish warrior woman, do read my book The Unmaking of Ellie Rook which was inspired by her actions. My current book The House on Devil’s Lane is also available and looking for some love!

As we progress through 2025, it is always worthwhile to reflect on the writing journey so far, and one significant milestone for me in recent months has been the publication of The House on Devil’s Lane. This novel, which guides readers through a suspenseful narrative filled with mysterious and unsettling events on an apparently ordinary street, began as a tentative foray into the world of self-publishing. Certainly, there are things I did wrong, and different decisions I might have taken, but the reception the novel has received has exceeded my expectations in a very good way!

I’m incredibly grateful for all the readers who have taken the time to write a review. Many have praised its intricate plotting, well-developed characters, and the chilling atmosphere that keeps readers on the edge of their seats. Indeed, the overwhelming support and enthusiasm from readers have been incredibly humbling and motivating.

This year, I have stepped away from fiction for a while to embark on a new literary venture that delves into the fascinating world of historical non-fiction. I am thrilled to be working with Pen and Sword Books on my upcoming project, The Legend of Lady Godiva. This book aims to shed light on the life and legacy of one of England’s most iconic figures, the legendary Lady Godiva.

Fascinating Facts about Lady GodivaLady Godiva was the grandmother of Ealdgyth, queen consort of Welsh King Gruffydd ap Llywelyn and later King Harold of arrow-in-the-eye fame. This connection places her within the intricate web of medieval royalty and politics.The story of Peeping Tom, who allegedly spied on her legendary naked ride, may have been invented as a joke by Royalist soldiers. This mischievous addition to the tale adds an interesting layer of myth and legend to her story.Godiva and her husband, Leofric, once occupied a hunting lodge in Kings Bromley. Up until recently, a modest modern bungalow stood in its place, boasting beams made with the timber of that long-lost dwelling!

Of the many artworks that feature Godiva, or Godgifu (Good or God gift), this is one of my favourites. This is a preparatory sketch by illustrator Henry Hugh Armistead.

Why Lady Godiva?

You might wonder, why Lady Godiva? The story of her legendary ride through Coventry is one that has fascinated me since childhood. The blend of historical fact and myth, the themes of bravery, sacrifice, and the fight against oppression, all resonate deeply with me. I am excited to be bringing to life the ‘real’ story of Lady Godiva, a tale that is as compelling and inspiring as any fictional narrative.

Looking Ahead

The journey from fiction to history has been incredibly rewarding, and I am eager to share this new book with you all in due course. Stay tuned for more updates on its progress, and thank you for your continued support and enthusiasm for my work.

In the meantime, if you haven’t yet read The House on Devil’s Lane, I encourage you to pick up a copy and join the adventure. Starting on Saturday, Feb 15th, the ebook will be available FREE for five days only!

Thank you for being a part of this incredible journey. Your feedback and reviews mean the world to me and help fuel my passion for storytelling. Here’s to many more stories to come!

And if you would like to write some of your own, please check out my creative writing courses page to find out what’s happening!

So, a second part to this story, and a second house! Last time, I told you about my Irish ghost. Fast forward to the 1990s, and I am living in a rather old fisherman’s cottage on the east coast of Scotland. The Deeds mention the date 1839, but that was the first formal registration of this house. There was an ancient, thatched dwelling on this site long before that. The sea boulder walls are two-foot thick, which plays havoc with the phone signal, but serves as a constant reminder of the need to keep out the North Sea gales.

What lurks within these walls? Nothing spooky at the moment. The house is at rest, but it wasn’t always so. For a brief period in the 90s, during a time when my neighbours were digging foundations for a new extension, I firmly believe that something was disturbed.

It began with random things we couldn’t explain. The smell of leather when we entered the house, and the sound of breaking glass. Yes, the sound of glass being smashed, or dropped from a height. My father was around at the time- the most ardent of non-believers!- and even he heard it. He went to great lengths to discover the cause, searching the attic and all through the house. The workmen next door had downed tools for the weekend, and there was no one else around, and anyway, we both agreed that the smashing sound had come from inside the house. There seemed to be no explanation.

Other spooky happenings followed. One of my sons woke up in terror having dreamed of ‘soldiers with dragon’s heads’ and I had a nightmare about a headless man on the beach. Worse, I woke up one night to the sound of asthmatic breathing. My first thought was to check on the family, and once I’d confirmed that everyone was sleeping peacefully. I climbed back into bed, only to dream about a heavy-breathing soldier standing at the door of my bedroom…

It’s easy to pass such things off as nightmares, imagination or whatever. But worse was to come. One night, I was awoken by the sensation of someone sitting on my side of the bed. The mattress tilted, and I opened my eyes and sat up, fully expecting to see that my husband, perhaps unable to sleep, sitting on my side of the bed.

But he was fast asleep beside me and there was nobody there…

Ghostly activity or over-active imagination?! I still cannot decide, although it’s strange that all the phenomena ended as soon as the excavations were done. Did someone or something object to their rest being disturbed? My home is just metres from a coastline once a magnet for Danish raiders. There have been battles on this soil, and shipwrecks out at sea. Past inhabitants of this cottage lived on the edge for generations, and not all their stories were happy ones.

It certainly makes you wonder. I will not be building an extension anytime soon!

On a lighter note, here are my recommendations for some dark-ish Halloween reading/listening/viewing.

The Uncanny Podcast, The best! Danny Robins is a master of spooky storytelling and his army of listeners make his job easy. The tales of ordinary folk are always the most scary. Danny has a Halloween ‘advent calendar’ of spooky soundbites plus some full length episodes to come. Available on BBC Sounds.‘The Gloaming’. This is an Australian folk horror/crime drama set in Tasmania. Lots of creepy settings, rituals and people driving around in the dark. Love it! Available on STV Player.Horrorstor by Grady Hendrix. I love his writing, and I’ve just finished How to Sell a Haunted House which was good, but for me, Horrorstor is the best, You’ll never look at Ikea in the same way again. Proof that any setting can be haunted in the right hands!

And of course, you could always buy my latest book…!

In my last post, I wrote about the setting for my new novel The House on Devil’s Lane, and how I was inspired to cross the border for the location.

The House on Devil’s Lane is available to pre-order HERE. Ebook and paperback will be released on 24/09/24

The main ‘character’ in the novel is, of course, Kat’s strange new home, and people often ask me if I have ever lived in a haunted house. Well, it all depends on what you believe ! I can confirm that I have experienced occurrences that I find hard to explain.

When I lived in Ireland, for example, we renovated a 300-year-old farmhouse in rural Limerick called Victory Hall. If any property was going to have an uncanny presence, it was going to be this one, right?! It certainly had a fascinating tale to tell. According to local legend, it had once been a parochial house, but the incumbent priest had committed a sin so grievous (I never found out what it was) that he was visited in the night by a furious mob, armed with blazing torches and pikes (hayforks). They evicted him from the house and marched him down to the river, presumably with the intent of drowning him. He survived, but lost his parish and was condemned to live out his days in a hut down by the very water that could have ended his life.

The ghost of a black-garbed man was said to pace the grounds of Victory Hall, pleading to be let back in to the house, but I never saw anything. We had to completely gut the place, and many ‘ghost’ artefacts came to light. The leather cover of a Bible, a part of a saddle, and so on, all helping to fire the imagination. On dark nights the blackness was absolute, with only a sole farmyard light flickering across the valley. Standing outside, you could hear all manner of rustlings and scratchings in the hedgerow, and even inside, the old timber would creak as it came to rest in the cool of the night. On the whole, the place had a rather peaceful air about it.

The great open fire in the kitchen was the perfect place around which to spin a yarn on a winter night, and I often wonder how many tales it had witnessed.

However, two strange things did stand out for me during our time there. Scratched into the lintel of the kitchen door were the letters WW, which I later discovered were not the priest’s initials, as I had assumed, but interlocking Vs, referring to the Virgin of Virgins. They were witchmarks, ancient graffiti calling upon the Virgin Mary for protection against evil. Were they there to keep the priest out?

Check out my fourth novel Sight Unseen to see where that idea led me! Honestly, no detail is ever wasted when a writer is around! You can find it HERE

The second thing? My youngest son, then around 3, called me over to the window one day, claiming to have seen ‘a man in a long black cloak’ crossing the yard. The house was accessible only by a driveway- one way in and one way out. No one had knocked on the door and I wasn’t expecting visitors. My scalp prickled. With two under- fours in the house, I was always on high alert. I ran outside, but there wasn’t a soul to be seen…

What had he seen? You tell me!

More tales from my current home next time! If you would like to subscribe to my mailing list please click HERE. It is quite occasional, but you can catch up on all my workshops and book news, and I also do a writing prompt in each edition. The perfect excuse to sit down with a cuppa and a notebook!

At LAST I have some exciting book news!

My fifth psychological thriller The House on Devil’s Lane (S. L. Ireland) will be released on September 24th as a Kindle ebook and as a paperback. I do believe the ebook is now available to preorder on Amazon and will appear silently and mysteriously on your kindle on publication day if you buy HERE.

Okay, that’s the hard sell out of the way! I just wanted to write a little bit about the process and ideas behind the book. It has been said (and not by me, it was The Sunday Post, actually!) that I write about difficult things with sensitivity and realism, and while novels are essentially a means of entertainment, and an enjoyable diversion, I do like to include some timely and troubling topics. With The Unmaking of Ellie Rook, for example (novel no.3) the underlying theme was one of coercive control and the emotional damage it does.

So, true to form, The House on Devil’s Lane has some very compelling characters with pressing problems and harrowing secrets. How they act when the chips are down…well, that’s where the fiction comes in! Hopefully, you will be with main character Kat every step of the way as she negotiates her new life in a new home while juggling the demands of new motherhood. It’s hard feeling alone and isolated in a new place, but is Kat ever really alone? I’ll let you decide, dear Reader…

Where did the idea come from? I will tell all in a series of blog posts, but first, the setting. As much as a love Scotland, I wanted to step over the border for a wee change, and the idea for this book came to me while I was visiting my brother in County Durham. He lives in a village which consists essentially of a single road with, as fate would have it, an empty house at the end, and behind it, the most amazingly eerie wood….

More next week!

I’m planning to run my WORLDBUILDING WITH FOLKLORE course in the Autumn. This was extremely popular last year, with some fabulous writers bringing their projects to the virtual table. Together we explored weird and wonderful characters, magical landscapes and a whole world of custom, ritual and dark, traditional tales. Inspiration for everyone, whatever your genre. Bring a whole manuscript or the germ of an idea and together we’ll make it sing!

The exact dates to be arranged, but it will probably be a Tuesday evening (6.30pm-8pm) and most likely October/November. Fancy it? Email me to reserve your place, no need to pay until end of Sept.

sandrairelandauthor@yahoo.co.uk

This blog post is very overdue, but I’m sure I am not alone in feeling quite overwhelmed by the passage of time! Sometimes it feels like life is happening while I’m studying my to-do list. Writing -and I know many of you will be nodding your heads- often has to take a backseat, and that’s not always to do with time. It’s to do with headspace. If you are juggling work and diaries and life, it becomes very difficult to visit your imagination. We’re constantly advised (and I’m guilty of saying this!) to ‘live inside your character’s head’ or ‘see the world through your character’s eyes’ and if we’re not able to give them our full attention- where does that leave us as writers?

Feeling guilty, frustrated and fraudulent, that’s what. Surely writers have an organised routine and devote entire days to their art? Perhaps if you are Jeffrey Archer, with a villa abroad and a publishing contract lined up, but as we know, life isn’t like that!

So, I have to tell you about a wonderful little writing retreat I went on last month. It wasn’t planned as such- it came about as the result of a chance conversation. It wasn’t in Spain, it was just down the road. I didn’t have any plans, no ambitious ‘get that first draft nailed’ goals, but I can thoroughly recommend house-sitting as way to refresh your batteries and give your creative juices a boost.

There are some photos below- I won’t name names or locations for privacy – but it was so refreshing to wake up somewhere else for two weeks and to pretend that real life wasn’t awaiting my return! New walks, new sights and sounds- it’s amazing what effect a change of scene can have on the writing process! While there, I entered a publisher’s competition for a five- book deal (I can dream!) and managed to write a synopsis and first three chapters of a Gothic novel set in Whitby. This is what the cover might look like one day!

It was great fun, a new challenge and took my mind off my climate fiction Waterbound which is still out on submission (come ON, publishers- what’s not to love?!).

So, I would recommend a complete change of scene if you are struggling to write- even if it is only on your doorstep. Sometimes the most creative of places can be just a few steps away!

During my recent residency at Marchmont Studios in the Borders, I was delighted to visit Polwarth Kirk with acclaimed artist Charlie Poulsen as my guide. We walked there via a path I hadn’t yet discovered, following the curves of the Rambling Burn, where I was able to see some of his amazing ‘growing bridges’ spanning the water. As you know, water is my ‘thing’ and this will be the perfect setting for my current folk horror project. Happily, there was nothing of horror about our walk! It was lovely to chat with Charlie about our respective practices, especially as I could see his iconic ‘Sky Boat’ from the window of my hobbit pod!

At the Kirk (see previous post for more about it) we were approached by a man with a very strange tale indeed. An elderly gentleman with a gentle smile and a very lively white terrier was standing by the gate. He confessed to us that he was fascinated by the church for the oddest of reasons. Sixty-five years previously, he’d visited the Kirk with his wife to have a look around. The place was open, as all churches used to be, but deserted. As they wandered around the nave, they heard strange noises in the bell tower. Even after 65 years, you could see that whatever had happened in there has stayed with him to this day. I’m not sure what the ‘noises’ were – I got the feeling that there was more to this story that he wasn’t telling us. Maybe more than simply footsteps? His wife ran out in terror (never to return; he was there alone) and they climbed into their car, an Austin 10. To add to their nightmare, the car wouldn’t start, and they had to get a push from some farmworkers further down the road.

As he spoke, the man’s gaze constantly strayed to the window of the bell tower, searching for clues, looking for something that shouldn’t be there…

So there you are, a first-hand ghost story to whet the gothic appetite.

No doubt it will find its way into my book…!

It’s halfway through February already and I find myself in the beautiful Scottish Borders. I could not believe my luck, last year, when I received an email from Executive Director Lucy Brown, inviting me to spend a whole month at Marchmont Studios to work on my latest project. I am very grateful to all at the Hugo Burge Foundation (learn more about the Foundation’s transformative work HERE) for inviting me to soak up the atmosphere here and become part of the landscape for this precious time!

The beautiful and historic Marchmont House lies a short walk away from the studios

Nothing like writing in a tower!

The novel I’m working on at the moment is a work of folk horror entitled THE BACK OF BEYOND. The title is no reflection on these environs (!) but the place is certainly brimming with qualities and stories that will certainly feed into the narrative. Thanks so much to my fellow resident, artist Anna King, who has loaned me a couple of wonderful old books about the history and stories of the area. Thanks too to Emma, who shared the story of Lady Polwarth, who hid her husband, Sir Patrick, in the crypt of Polwarth Kirk for a month as he was being hunted down by government soldiers after an alleged plot. The couple’s eldest daughter, Grisell, would creep out of Redbraes Castle at night (the ruins can still be seen) armed only with a lantern, and cross the fields with food for her father.

One of many stirring tales connected with the historic Marchmont House and estate.

The remains of Redbraes Castle. Did some Border Reiver take an axe to that door?!

I visited the Kirk on a dreich day and it was easy to imagine how creepy it might have been back then, and what danger might have awaited Lady Grisell, if she had been caught.

I was also fascinated by the story of the Polwarth Thorn, which lies just a mile or two away from the Kirk, in the village of Polwarth. The ‘Thorn’ is actually a pair of very twisted and gnarly trees, said to have sprung from the original, which must have been ancient, as the original Kirk dates from before 1300 (some accounts say there was a church there in the 10th century). It was the custom for newly weds to dance around the thorn tree for good luck and fertility.

I describe my folk horror book as The Wicker Man With Water, and no spoilers to say there might be a Roman goddess in it and one or two sacrifices… I’m now on the look-out for a holy well and some Roman remains…!

The Polwarth Thorn. Another brilliant local tale tells of two sisters, heiresses, who had their sights set on the handsome Wedderburn brothers. Politics and intrigue meant the girls were stolen away by a third party and confined to barracks. The steadfast brothers turned up at their door with horses and men and won the day! A double wedding was performed at the Kirk, and the couples, as tradition decreed, danced around the thorn tree.