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Next month, Usborne are publishing a richly compelling new novel by master storyteller, Geraldine McCaughrean, based on the true story of a group of boys who were left stranded on Stac in Armin in 1727. Below, Geraldine tells us a little more about the inspiration behind this incredible book. 

Sometimes history can be heartless and tight-lipped. It tells us the facts, but not
the feelings, and we are left beating on its windows shouting,
“Yes, but what were their names? What did they say? What became of them?��
Those are the moments fiction swoops on, like a happy magpie. I certainly do. 

The whole fabric of Scotland is a tapestry of ancient stories and histories,
suffering and bravery, but the remote archipelago of St Kilda has a particular way
of snaring the imagination. Harsh and beautiful, suspended beneath its flocking
birds, it asks what YOU would find there �� inner peace or terrible isolation? The
simple life or a terrible familiarity with death? The lives of its islanders centuries
ago are nigh impossible for the modern mind to grasp. But they flicker there on
the rim of the imagination, demanding admiration. 

When I came across the story of the boys marooned on Stac an Armin in 1727, it
tantalised with its lack of detail. A party of fowlers went out to harvest gannets,
feathers and eggs, and no boat came to take them home again. What did they
suppose had happened? What explanations crossed their minds? How did they
cope? I thought I knew where I meant to take the story, but as usual the joy came
in finding out as I went along. The novel is more guesswork than history, but the
fact those men, those boys genuinely existed, certainly upped the ante. 

Where the World Ends is aimed at the teenage reader �� has more in common with
The White Darkness and The Stones are Hatching than Peter Pan in Scarlet.
Grim and scary in parts, it aims to make you fret for the protagonists and keep on
hoping for the best.
Crossings to St Kilda are rough and rarely made. But this one, I hope, is well
worth making.

“Brilliant, beautiful�� as unpredictable as the sea itself.�� Philip Reeve
COMING MAY 2017

My latest book Where the World Ends is launched this month! Set on the remote islands of St Kilda, it’s already been called “an outstanding example of the storyteller’s art.”��

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Polar Explorer of the Day: Lawrence Edward Grace Oates (17 March 1880 - 16 or 17 March 1912)

Oates was born in Putney, a suburb of London and, as the eldest son of his family, was the heir of a great fortune. He struggled in school, most probably due to dyslexia and the fact that he was a very sickly child. In 1896 his father died and he became the head of the family. In 1898 he joined the British army and served in the Second Boer War, where he suffered a gun shot wound in his left thigh. As a result of this, his left leg was one inch shorter and he walked with a slight limp. Oates was promoted to lieutenant in 1902 and to captain in 1906. He spend the decade after the war in service in Ireland, Egypt, and India. While in India he read about Robert Falcon Scott’s Antarctic expedition plans and offered his service as horse expert (Scott planned on using Siberian ponies for the assault on the Pole) and, contributing with £ 1000 for the expedition’s expenses, was accepted into the crew. He disagreed with Scott on numerous occasions, but he still treated his superior with respect. Scott had chosen Oates for his last polar party, although the last ponies he took care of were dead by the time they reached the bottom of the Beardmore Glacier. The party reached the South Pole on 18 January 1912, more than one month after Amundsen’s team, thus being second to the Pole. After a month, one of the companions, Edgar Evans died and Oates had trouble with his legs (especially the shorter one, because the wound was reopened due to the horrible conditions). By 15/16 March he was in no condition to walk and, according to Scott’s diary, he said he wished not to wake up the next day. The next morning, he woke up and, according to “legend��, told his companions that he’s just going outside and it may be some time. He went outside and was never seen again.

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Today in 1912 Lawrence Oates, aware that his severe frostbite was slowing the progress of the expedition, left his companions saying: “I am just going outside and may be some time.�� Oates then walked from the tent into a blizzard of ��40 °C to his death.

Robert Falcon Scott wrote in his diary, “We knew that poor Oates was walking to his death, but though we tried to dissuade him, we knew it was the act of a brave man and an English gentleman.��

Oates�� sacrifice however made no difference to the eventual outcome. Scott, Wilson and Bowers continued onwards for a further 20 miles towards the ‘One Ton�� food depot that could save them but were halted at latitude 79°40’S by a fierce blizzard on 20 March. Trapped in their tent by the weather and too weak, cold and malnourished to continue, they eventually died nine days later, only eleven miles short of their objective.

Their frozen bodies were discovered by a search party on 12 November 1912. Oates�� body was never found. Near where it was presumed Oates had died, the search party erected a cairn and cross bearing the inscription; “Hereabouts died a very gallant gentleman, Captain L. E. G. Oates, of the Inniskilling Dragoons. In March 1912, returning from the Pole, he walked willingly to his death in a blizzard, to try and save his comrades, beset by hardships.��

Oates, Scott and three companions had reached the pole on 17 January 1912 only to discover a tent that Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen and his four-man team had left behind after beating them in the race to be first to the Pole. Inside the tent was a note from Amundsen informing them that his party had reached the South Pole on 14 December 1911, beating Scott’s party by 35 days.

I feel v privileged (not to mention thrilled) to know of a reader who thinks so well of my books and takes the trouble to say so. Thankyou. Geraldine x

I feel v privileged (not to mention thrilled) to know of a reader who thinks so well of my books and takes the trouble to say so. Thankyou. Geraldine x

I feel v privileged (not to mention thrilled) to know of a reader who thinks so well of my books and takes the trouble to say so. Thankyou. Geraldine x

I feel v privileged (not to mention thrilled) to know of a reader who thinks so well of my books and takes the trouble to say so. Thankyou. Geraldine x

I feel v privileged (not to mention thrilled) to know of a reader who thinks so well of my books and takes the trouble to say so. Thankyou. Geraldine x

I feel v privileged (not to mention thrilled) to know of a reader who thinks so well of my books and takes the trouble to say so. Thankyou. Geraldine x