Not a Book Review - To the Bright Edge of the World by Eowyn Ivey

'o the Bright Edge of the World blew a cold breath into my heart. The landscape – its wildness and its history and its beauty – intrigued me; as I read I felt the relentless pull that urged the Colonel and his men northwards into unexplored territory. Gladly I went with them, drawn on by a combination of curiosity, fear and dread, turning the pages faster as they raced against weather, starvation and harsh conditions. Eager, like Sophie, to see such grand wilderness.

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Perth Writers Festival 2017 Highlights - Ian McGuire, author of The North Water

'We're novelists, not historians - we're looking for things that historians can't tell us. Novelists step in and fill the blanks left by history. That's what makes it interesting.'

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Mapledurham Mill, Reading

'Are you the writer? You look like a writer.'
The miller was a big guy, solid and broad, with a dusty workboots and shoulders that seemed made to heft sacks of flour.  
'Yep,' I said. 'That's me.'
He grinned and introduced himself as Corry, then unlocked and swung open a set of large gates. Beyond them the Thames languidly flowed, its surface calm and greenish, brushed by willows. A creamy-pink building crouched on the bank- Mapledurham Mill, a 17th century water mill and the last working grist mill on the River Thames.

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