What Scotland Taught Me About Storytelling by Merri Maywether

This summer, America is sharing a phenomenon I experienced in 2018. After spending any amount of time with a Scottish person, you walk away a changed person  

For those just hearing this. The Tartan Army, a.k.a. Scotland’s fans, have been in Boston for the World Cup, and they brought the cultural conversation. 

They’ve anointed statues with the bright orange traffic cones. 

They have consumed enough beer to render a bar dry. 

Social media and news posts have shared countless stories about the Scottish-American love fest. 

This was nothing new to me. The summer of 2018 was my first trip to Scotland. I met with a group of authors. We talked books, hunkered down in an estate, and wrote. By day, we were storytellers.

The night was ours to do whatever we wanted. We hiked Arthur’s Seat and returned to hang out in a pub. We visited cemeteries. We danced in a ceilidh. We roamed the cobblestone streets and visited places authors before us frequented. 

I came home delighted. Randy and I had made friends, and even more important, my book was done.

Or so I thought.

When I sat down to revise it, something felt off.

There was a distinct difference in the writing styles.

In the first half of the book, the Lane family had always been warm. But after spending time with Scottish people, the candid stories, banter, and shenanigans in the second half were livelier.

It was like the book was written by two different people. And in a way, it was.

After spending time in Scotland, I noticed people differently. I listened differently. That’s a picture of me with someone who started out as a stranger and became someone I’d share photos and life’s fun lessons with. The teasing between family members, the stories shared around a table, the way complete strangers could become friends by the end of the evening—I wanted more of that on the page.

That’s one of the reasons I love traveling. We often think we’re collecting memories, but sometimes we’re collecting pieces of ourselves we didn’t know were missing until another culture helps us see them.

And then, those pieces find their way into a story.

So I rewrote Paradise Hills Thanksgiving—eventually I had to go back and rewrite the prior books, too, but that’s a different blog.

So when I see another post about the Tartan Army charming Americans, I smile. It happened again. An encounter with a Scottish person added color to the story.

And more people get it.

Scotland is beautiful, but the real magic has always been her people. No matter where they are, they have a way of turning strangers into friends and ordinary moments into stories worth sharing.

💖💖💖 Merri’s Newest Release 💖💖💖

One overheard conversation. And a second chance that hinges on trying again after a secret is revealed.

Alana wasn’t looking for trouble at a friend’s wedding — but she found it when she overhears her Jimmy say exactly what he thinks of her. The words sting more than they should, considering they’re based on the person she’s pretended to be.

Jimmy isn’t proud of what he said. His apology is genuine — until it unravels something neither of them expected. Because Alana’s secrets, when they surface, look a lot like a woman who never trusted him at all.

In the warmth of Three Creeks, where everybody eventually knows everybody’s business, Jimmy and Alana must decide what’s worth salvaging — and whether an honest mistake is still a mistake when the truth is more complicated than it looks

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One More Chance is an Amazon Kindle Unlimited story.