Short notice. Is there to hand a wordsmith who owes him a pint? Thus, dear reader, I find myself with an opportunity to jump at.

Leith Writing has got through its baby steps. From the bright idea to mark the centenary of the amalgamation of Leith with Edinburgh in 2020, we have produced four annual editions of diverse writings from around the Leith community.

The launch party of was a cornucopia of talent. First up we had some youngsters from Trinity Academy, with their teacher Bruce Watt getting them sorted and with their mums and dads all proud of them.

Coming on directly after them, Ruth Campbell said she felt like the road-sweeper after the Lord Mayor’s parade had passed (I paraphrase).

After the musical interval (Conrad Molleson and Tom Ward on small pipes, fiddle, concertina and acoustic guitar) we moved on to more adult themes. No spoilers – get the book and read it for yourself – but there is a bit of lingo and some addressing difficult things like drug addiction.

As John Young asks in his introduction: ‘…how [do] the unaffected and innocent submissions of the youngsters sit with the life experience works of adults using mature writing styles?’

We get away with it, he says, by selecting items that relate to the theme of change.

But it’s a good question. Is it an uncomfortable fit? Would we be better having separate editions?

Maybe it’s important to bring all voices together, in one safe place. They don’t have to agree. But they all need to be respected.

The anthology opens with Annie McCrae playing around with our theme: ‘Short change, loose change… change the clocks, change hands… change face… change your tune… step change… all change’.

The last piece is from Mike Cowley, which seems to contradict the whole idea of change: ’When we met / Beneath the canopy of the spreading chestnut tree / We spoke of distant planets / And how the future used to be. / When wise men cautioned / Against the opium of hope…’

And plumb dead centre we put Lawrence Dinse’s piece describing his working day before the last shift at Henry Robb’s shipyard in 1983, after which it was demolished and Ocean Terminal was built.

What a vivid, living, relatable, concrete demonstration of our theme!

Before Garry Stanton presented his piece, he paid homage to his old English teacher who he recognised: John Young. The years pass. Schoolboy faces change. The memory fades. It’s not certain that John recognised Garry.

Sea Change is not just words. The cover artwork is by Norman Oyoo who is fresh from his native Uganda. He had two years at Drummond High School, and now he’s at Edinburgh College. He has provided the artwork for every edition so far.

The title was a gift to him. The cover depicts an enormous wave breaking up and crashing over a small rocky outcrop – or maybe it’s a concrete block – representing some sort of resistance to change. And on the block is a pair of shoes, exposed and vulnerable.

The imagery says: good luck with resisting change. We who are older attest to the sober truth of this observation.

It is a scientific statement that no process can ever be exactly repeated, however similar a repeat may seem. Time itself is an irresistible dynamic force that forbids repetition.

We love working with Out of the Blueprint at Dalmeny Street. Bethany Thompson has a wonderful eye for layout on the page, and she has given us our house style.

The paper isn’t white, and the ink isn’t black. They use rice ink on 100% re-cycled paper. The hard copy has a lovely texture.

Pick up your own copy from various places around town. The main pick-up point is Argonaut Books at the foot of the Walk. And they will take cash donations for the next edition.

The libraries have it. And we have a digital version on our web site: see below.

We believe in the power of the page. Authors need to assemble their thoughts, fantasies, or facts, whatever they are dealing with, into an order that conveys something interesting, or fun, or instructive to others.

That process alone is worthwhile. If it is put between book covers and published, the effort is rewarded and it is encouragement to get more ambitious.

And it forms a community. Sea Change is a strand in the wider, endlessly diverse community of Leith.

Since our first outing four years ago, we have become a charity recognised by OSCR. This means that we can apply to funding bodies and increase the print run.

Sharpen your pen. Dust down your keyboard. Assemble your thoughts, or fantasies, or facts and see how they fit into next year’s theme.

And now, dear reader, I owe our Esteemed Editor two pints.

Visit our web site or comms in January. ■

Tim Bell Redux

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