NOT so long ago William McIlvanney had an appointment with a doctor.
Three weeks after she found her husband, Tony, dead on the floor in the bathroom, Jan Robinson went out for lunch.
The last thing Katharine Norbury wanted to write was a misery memoir, although she has more than enough material for one.
WE ARE talking about the many women in Andrew O'Hagan's life.
IN a douce, respectable house on Glasgow's south side, a man and a woman are coolly, calmly talking about murder.
Women's voices were the soundtrack of Christopher Brookmyre's childhood.
WITHIN minutes of meeting Jamie Stuart, a conspicuous, slightly guilty smile forces itself onto the face.
The car shuddered to a stop when she was still in the middle of primping her eyebrows, blending the pencilled lines with the finely woven hairs.