Pat Gerber

HER family, her country and the arts were Pat Gerber's passions, and all three were enriched by her life.

She is best known as an author, mainly of children's novels. Her series Stranger on the River, The Ghost of Glenmellish and To Catch a Thief, filled a gap in Scottish literary culture, along with the (yet to be published) Children of the Midnight Sun. They provide school children with modern adventures set in recognisably local language and scenery.

When Pat wrote about Scotland in more factual terms, it was with a love and care that belied her research budget. The Search for the Stone of Destiny followed a lifelong interest in this mysterious icon of Scottish political history. Pat was thrilled to see the stone returned to Scotland, and to witness Scotland attaining its devolved parliament, although occasionally exasperated by the reality.

Pat particularly enjoyed researching Outdoors Scotland, which involved exploring the country's nooks and crannies. The research went on all year - while she enjoyed the summer sun, the winter provided the cool that she always loved, and a sunny blustery day in the West Highlands was truly home.

While she ref lected personal interests in her writing, these books also ref lect a knowledge of what the public would find interesting. This is particularly true of Through Hell and High Water, a previously untold true story about remarkable fortitude and bravery among Norwegians forced to survive winter in a cave during Nazi occupation. The human stories of loss, extreme hard times and rescue by the Royal Navy, were good enough to warrant conversion to a film, of the same name, by Taylored Productions.

Patricia Mary Anne Morris was the first of three children to Ronald Morris, solicitor, and Mary Lee Morris, nee Dykes, of Kilbirnie. From there, the family, including her two brothers, Andrew and Greg, moved for a spell to Campbeltown, where her father was based during the war while serving in the Royal Navy, and then to Kilmacolm. Pat was schooled initially at St Columba's in Kilmacolm and later as a boarder at St Leonard's in St Andrews.

As a young lady she was presented at court in 1955. She enjoyed tennis and amateur motorsport along with Colin Carnie, whom she married in 1956. They had six children - Jock, their third son, died as an infant, and Pat has been buried alongside him in Kilmacolm Cemetery. Jock's death was a huge emotional blow to Pat, and his spirit remained with her. But the growth and development of other children gave her plenty to do and plenty of interest.

The marriage was dissolved in 1977, but around this time she began to achieve her own independence. After psychometric testing suggested she could be a lawyer or journalist, she pursued the latter option, firstly achieving a Glasgow University MA in English & Drama, and then becoming a member of the NUJ, and gaining recognition for her reviews of children's books.

Pat has been happily married to Cyril Gerber since 1980. Cyril further inspired her, encouraging her writing, and helping her establish Kailyards Press to publish her first collection of short stories, Maiden Voyage. She also wrote plays on Edith Nesbitt and Margaret Morris for the "Home is Where the Art is" theatre company. She encouraged others to write - whether children, mature students or professionals, and was a regular speaker at the Edinburgh Book Festival and supporter of remote libraries.

She is survived by her husband, Dr Cyril Gerber, and her children Chris, Jamie, Patrick, Penny and Bryony.

An appreciation

by Theresa Breslin

THE first time I met Pat she had come to my home to interview me about a book I had written. At that time she was a columnist and contributor to a late-night television programme dedicated to Scottish writers and writing. (Yes, we did have one of those some years ago). Time-wise, it was not in the best slot. As she herself observed wryly, at that late hour her only competition was porn or religious programmes. She arrived at my front door on a warm summer's day in a dazzling smock-frock and open-toed sandals displaying bright blue toe varnish. One of my children answered the door, and this larger-than-life figure, crowned with a wonderful cloud of hair, swept inside.

As I said, it was some years ago and we were all fascinated by the bright blue toe varnish. Nowadays it wouldn't raise an eyebrow, far less a comment. But forever after that, Pat was referred to in our house as "the lady with the bright blue toe varnish". And, as I got to know her more, and our friendship developed, I recognised her way of dressing as a statement of a love of life, of colour, of people, and of her view of the world as a place of interest and excitement.

She was full of good counsel, witty and warm-hearted.

She was a champion of children's writing in the days before it came to be regarded by some as fashionably lucrative - she attracted flak for commenting publicly on the lack of children's book review space.

Her presence at meetings, in discussion groups, or on book panels was always welcomed. She was a helpful, encouraging and inspirational creative writing tutor who took an interest in her students' lives. Many still quote her advice.

Her own writing ref lected her personality. Once, when I was asked to judge a writing award where entries remained anonymous, I picked out a manuscript for quality, readability, interest and excitement. Yes it was Pat's.

She was very excited about her latest novel, and rightly so, for her story had found an agent who was placing her work for the audience that she loved so much.

It seems terribly unfair that she did not live to see this come to fruition.

She would not have wanted us to dwell on what might have been, or, indeed, to wear sombre clothes and mourn her passing.

More apt for her are the lines from the poem by Christina Rossetti:

Sing no sad songs for me. Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.