Heidi Edmundson was born and grew up in Portrush, Northern Ireland. As a child she was an avid reader and particularly loved fairytales, myths and legends. She also developed a love of detective stories especially Nancy Drew. Her love of reading became a love of writing and she wanted to be a writer when she grew up.

She studied medicine at Dundee University and has worked as a doctor for the NHS ever since. She is currently an Emergency Medicine consultant in London. However, she never forgot her love of writing and in 2011 joined a weekly writing group. She initially only wrote for fun and never intended anyone else to read her work. However, during the COVID pandemic she developed a daily writing practice to help her manage the stress. What she, initially, thought was going to be a short story ended up as a novel.

Although she is currently based in London her heart firmly belongs in the North Coast. In 2023 after a significant operation, she came back home for six months to heal. She did this by writing and walking on the beach every day.

Her debut novel ‘Darkness in the City of Light’ was published in February by Constellations Press. It is a classic Whodunnit set in a fantastical city which was inspired by Portrush and Venice with a little bit of the Regents Canal thrown in.

The Things We Do To Sell Our Books

It happened on the North Coast; I don’t know why I started like that. It’s the writer in me I suppose, always looking for that killer first line like ‘the best of times, worst of times’ or that one about unhappy families.
It’s not as if the north Coast is that exciting, well not to me anyway. I’d always dreamt of getting away to somewhere bigger. As a child it was Ballymena but as I grew so did my horizons.
I’m from Portrush, a true product of a seaside town. My parents ran a guesthouse on Kerr Street, and I had summer jobs in all the iconic (if Portrush can have an iconic) places, the Whitehouse, the Ramore Restaurant, and Barry’s Amusement’s change box.
As a child I would go for walks on the beach with the elderly woman who lived next door. We’d look for things that had been left behind by storms and she would tell me stories about the banshee, shipwrecks and what happened to people who brought a bit of the Causeway Stone back to their houses. Spoiler alert, nothing good.
Every winter the guesthouse would shake in the gales that came off the Atlantic. I’d lie in bed at night waiting for the boom of the lifeboat, listening to the house rattling above me. I was convinced that there were the ‘other’ living in the empty rooms but as long as we stuck to our part of the house, they would stick to theirs. It was a gift for a child with a vivid imagination. That house was like an incubator for stories, so it’s no wonder I grew up wanting to be a writer.
Writing was my ticket out of town. The plan was simple, I would write a book, get it published and become rich and famous. To be honest I didn’t care that much about being rich, just rich enough to buy nice things, but I didn’t want a yacht or anything silly like that.
However, all those stories I had read should have taught me that nothing is ever that simple. Writing a book was not easy but it wasn’t the hardest part. Getting it published was worse and that was a piece of cake compared to getting people to actually buy it.
To begin with I sent my friends and family into the local bookshop to ask for it and create a buzz. If it did it was indiscernible to the human ear. The buzz equivalent of a dog whistle.
“What I need is endorsement” I said to my friend Cherry, “celebrity endorsement”.
I needed someone famous to read my book and then talk about. The problem was I didn’t know anyone famous and to get to know someone famous I needed to be famous. And I couldn’t see how I could be famous without the help of someone famous.
“What about the golf course?” said Cherry.
Now that wasn’t a bad idea, we were always hearing about famous people playing golf at the Royal Portrush.
“We could join the golf club” she said.
“We don’t play golf. In fact, we know nothing about golf.”
“What about becoming a caddie? “
“I think you need to know about golf for that too.”
“Like knowing which stick to hand them and that sort of thing.”
“I think the technical term is club.”
It’s safe to say we weren’t caddie material either.
But all the talk of golf made me think about the actor. The actor lived in Portrush and was properly famous. Newspapers and magazines were always writing about what he was up to.
“You could post a copy through his door”, said Cherry when I told her.
“Are you mad?”, I said, … “in this country!”.
“Don’t wrap it up”, said Cherry,… “ and maybe stick a Post-it on it with ‘this is not a bomb’ or something.”
I wasn’t entirely comfortable with that plan. Anyway when we went to his house there was a big fence round it. I could, however, see his front door and his letter box looked too small anyway.
“Just throw it over the fence,” suggested Cherry
I raised my arm but then stopped. I was never picked for rounders as I couldn’t throw a ball. It never seemed to go where I aimed it. I doubted that I would be any better with my book.
So, I took to walking round Portrush with a copy, hoping to accidentally run into the actor. He was always popping up on social media, chatting to people in the petrol station or having selfies taken in local restaurants, how hard could it be. I just had to be in the right place at the right time. Trouble is I wasn’t, I was always in the wrong place. Or even worse, in the right place but at the wrong time.
One night I forgot to bring the book with me. This was awful. It would be typical if he came in now when I didn’t have a book to give him. But similarly, if I went home to get it, he would undoubtedly appear.
Then Cherry had an idea, her brother Milky was always looking for work. Obviously Milky was not his real name. He was called Milky because… Actually, I have no idea why he was called Milky. Maybe he just liked milk. Sometimes things are that simple. Anyway, Cherry would pay him to go into her flat and bring her copy of the book here to the restaurant.
A short while later Milky appeared with the book. Predictably the actor did not appear. I learnt the next day that the right place had in fact been the yacht club next door. But the whole thing gave me an idea.
“Are you sure,” asked Milky.
“Absolutely, it’s not breaking and entering if you don’t steal anything. I researched it for one of my books”.
This was nonsense. I had never researched anything in my life. I was the kind of writer who just made stuff up. So, I suppose I was just acting true to form.
“You’re just leaving him a gift”, said Cherry “that’s a nice thing.”
I handed Milky a copy of my book, unwrapped, and a covering letter.
“All you have to do is leave it on the step outside his door. “
A short well later Milky returned. He was pumped up on adrenaline and had the air of a conquering hero about him.
“So, you got in OK ?” I asked.
Milky nodded.
“and left it on the doorstep.”
“Oh, I did better than that “said Milky, “it was raining and I didn’t want the book to get wet so I let myself into his house.”
“You broke into his house”, I said in horror.
“It’s not breaking and entering if you don’t take anything.”
“What’s it like” asked Cherry.
“Wait, wait” I said before they could start discussing the actor’s taste in home décor.
“What did you do with my book?”
“I left it somewhere obvious.”
“Where?”
“The bookcase”.
“The bookcase”, I said in horror.
“What more obvious place is there for a book than the bookcase?”
“Where in the bookcase?” I asked faintly.
“I just shoved it in,” said Milky. “I don’t think he has a filing system, it’s certainly not alphabetical order. And there is lots of other stuff shoved in there too. “
“Like what” asked Cherry with interest.
“CDs”
“Who has CDs anymore?”
“Old people”, said Milky.
“But how will he notice my book in there?” I asked.
“Maybe he’ll see it when he goes to look for something to read”, said Milky.
“Or a CD”, added Cheryl.
So that’s where we are now, languishing. Me on the North Coast and my book in the actor’s bookcase. Both of us waiting to be discovered.
But still, it’s not so bad. I’m learning to love the place. I’ve taken up that wild water swimming, it really is very invigorating you know. And I’m doing golf lessons. Not that I’m in anyway interested in golf. But it’s the US open in Portrush next year. And I figure if I know a bit about golf, I might be able to get some work as a caddie. And I have it on good authority that there will be lots of famous people there.