Fast friends

THE phone call to the St Magnus Cathedral manse about five years or so ago was intriguing.

The caller introduced himself as Les Cowan; he explained that he had written the manuscript of a book and he wondered if I could give him some advice. Such requests usually trigger a warning light in the brain: after all, things can get rather tricky if, in all honesty, you don’t rate the proffered manuscript very highly. How do you break the news without causing offence or inducing despair? One thing I was sure about was that offering false hope would not actually help any writer.

The flashing light in my head was intensified when I remembered why the name of the caller seemed familiar – Les Cowan had a regular column in the Orcadian newspaper.

The tone of his work struck me as being pretty conservative. He explained to me that his book had a religious theme, but it was something of a detective story. I must admit that I groaned inwardly.

The manuscript was duly delivered, and I set about reading it with a heavy heart. I had read quite a few religious books dressed up as novels in my time; generally speaking, they had ranged from the cringeworthy to the truly ghastly. Oh well. I wasn’t very far into the manuscript when it dawned on me that this man could write, and write well. His central character, David Hidalgo, was no jargon-spouting cleric; he turned out to be a much more nuanced character than that. As I got into the story, I became more and more gripped by the unfolding drama.

Les had wisely followed the advice usually given to rookie writers: “Write about what you know”. He had spent a few years in Spain, where he had been involved in trying to get a new evangelical congregation going.

The storyline of his book – titled Benefit of the Doubt – moved between Edinburgh and Spain. Having spent a few years as a journalist in Edinburgh before studying for the ministry, I was intrigued by this. He was writing about places I was familiar with. Les was a very observant writer, and his prose style was excellent. As the story moved towards its conclusion, I didn’t want it to end.

Fast forward to today.Benefit of the Doubt was published by Lion Hudson to acclaim. It was soon followed by All That Glitters, another unique combination of spiritual journey and fast-paced crime. More books are in the pipeline. This represents a considerable achievement.

The truth is that I had rushed to judgments about Les Cowan that turned out to be manifestly false. Les and I have since become fast friends. We meet up for coffee in Kirkwall every few weeks. Yes, we talk theology. Horses from different religious stables perhaps, but there is much to talk about. It takes me back to my youthful conservative evangelical days – preaching for conversion at seaside missions – spouting every religious cliché in the evangelical playbook! I can no longer do that with any integrity, but my admiration for committed conservative evangelicals with kindness in their heart remains intact.

The truth is that I had rushed to judgments about Les Cowan that turned out to be manifestly false.

Les Cowan and I have both changed in the course of our conversations. Our mutual certainties have been challenged. We have been brought together by a fictional pastor-detective called David Hidalgo – and by a God with a sense of humour? We don’t know the half of it, thank the Lord.