The Places That Call Us Back

Some places feel like they’ve been waiting for us.

You step into a town you’ve never visited before, yet everything feels familiar; the smell of the air, the way the light bends at a certain hour, the sound of church bells echoing in the distance. It’s as if memory precedes experience, as though something in your bones already knows its way around.

That’s how it gelt for me when I first began writing The Harbinger. The story wasn’t built from scratch…it arrived like a place I had already been. I recognized the sound of the wind in the trees, the scent of wood smoke, and the rhythm of footsteps along cobblestone streets that don’t exist anywhere on a modern map.

Stories often have geography long before they have plot. Sometimes we choose the setting; sometimes, the setting chooses us.

In The Harbinger, Scotland wasn’t just a backdrop; it was a presence. The landscapes of moors and mist, the ruins and rivers, the echoes of ancient law and quiet resistance; they shaped the story’s heartbeat. But more than that, they revealed something I’ve come to believe deeply: certain places remember us.

As I prepare to return to Scotland soon, I can already feel that magnetic pull…the one that whispers, come back, there’s more to remember. Maybe it’s research, maybe it’s soul memory, or maybe the two are the same thing. Either way, I know this trip isn’t about finding something new, it’s about recognizing what’s already been waiting.

The older I get, the more I believe our lives are mapped not just by time, but by place. Some spots become our turning points. Some cradle our heartbreak. And some, like the ones that inspired The Harbinger, become portals; reminding us who we were, who we are, and who we’re still becoming.