Oh dear.

As a wannabe writer who loves the currently unfashionable art of the short story I hate to be highly critical of the debut collection from a new author. Especially one as talented as Hird.

Let's be clear about one thing, every one of the stories in this book is brilliantly written. The characterisation is impeccable, the sense of place and time is remarkable and the use of language superb. These pieces evoke contemporary urban Scotland in a vivid, disturbing and memorable manner.

It's just a pity that Hird appears to have done one too many creative writing classes. In amongst all the polishing of the prose she appears to have lost sight of the fact that the main objective of any author is to tell a good story.

Were the ten "stories" in this collection excerpts from novels then they would merit the highest praise - but they're not. With one or perhaps two exceptions they simply don't cut it as stand-alone works. Almost without exception they spellbind you, drag you in, then dump you unceremoniously with the reaction "is that it?"

As an example, have a read of Routes.

This is actually one of the best stories, yet most people would reach the end and conclude that they'd just read an excerpt from a longer work. We're given an excellently drawn character, a fully fleshed background and an isolated incident. It could make the first chapter of a very interesting novel. It would probably get an A+ in writing class. As a story it's a total failure.

Hird is an author of undeniable talent who will probably win major literary prizes. One day she might even write an excellent book.