Today I’m delighted to feature crime author Frances Crawford whose novel A Bad, Bad Place is lauded as a crime debut of the year having won the McDermid Debut Award at this year’s Theakston Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival. In addition it’s also shortlisted for the Bloody Scotland Debut Prize as well as the prestigious (Bloody Scotland) McIlvanney Prize for Scottish Crime Novel of the Year. The winners for both are announced this evening, so good luck Frances! A Bad, Bad Place set in 1970’s Glasgow, has been described as a murder mystery unlike any other.
As a passionate advocate of lifelong learning, Frances was delighted to graduate in 2022, age 60, with MLitt (Distinction) Creative Writing from Glasgow University. She signed with literary agents A.M.Heath in 2024, and after a ten-way auction, her debut novel A Bad, Bad Place was published by Transworld at Penguin in February 2026.
Frances grew up in North Glasgow and credits the good people of Possilpark and Milton as her writing inspiration. She still lives in Glasgow with her family and likes libraries and punk rock.
Over to Frances :
Which five pieces of music/songs would you include in the soundtrack to your life and why?
I grew up in a family of eight, all of whom loved music. So many different tastes and obsessions and as a childhood memory I’ve chosen ‘Let It Be’ because The Beatles were one band that everyone liked.
I was a punk rocker, shaped not only by the gigs and the music but by the politics. The track that reminds me of the joyful exuberance of punk is “Into the Valley’ by The Skids. Even today, I can close my eyes and remember leaping around to this, singing the wrong words, punching the air. The good old days!
‘Pretty in Pink’ by Psychedelic Furs. I spent a lot of time in hospital in the 1980s. I’d just started going out with Willy, and his unswerving love at this time was my support. He’d make compilation tapes to help me pass the time on the ward, and this song was chosen by him because I had wee pink pyjamas.
Willy and I married in 1985, he was a punk rocker too, and although our wedding look was very traditional, we had our first dance to ‘Rebel Waltz’ by The Clash. Some of the aunties looked very puzzled!
Even at 64, I love a live band. I’ve seen Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds umpteen times, and ‘Stagger Lee’ is always a profane, wild masterpiece of performance. In my mind, I’m still leaping around, punching the air.
What five things (apart from family and friends) would you find it hard to live without.
Libraries. I am passionate supporter of libraries and would chain myself to the gates if my local was threatened. There was no spare money growing up, but Mammy convinced us that a day out to the library was a huge treat. I still believe that.
Medication. This is literal because without the care and treatment of my wonderful neurological team, I would not be here. My heart breaks for those with an illness that has no treatment.
Baseball boots. Wear them with everything, from summer to winter. When I collected my McDermid Debut Award, the other nominees looked beautifully glamorous – I was wearing Converse.
Dark chocolate. I’m a late convert to this, but not a day passes with a few squares of tasty, smooth, luxury. Please don’t take it away!
Books. The only time I don’t read, is while I’m writing. I read everything from Voltaire to The Beano – I have no filter and don’t believe in any kind of literary hierarchy. Read whatever you fancy, just please don’t ask to borrow my books.
Give five pieces of advice to your younger self?
Forget trying to be cool. For a while in my teens, I was a rubbish daughter, a rubbish sister and a rubbish friend. I see now I was trying too hard to be a different kind of person. When I stopped pretending, everything else fell back into place. It’s hard being a teenager.
Listen to your mammy. When I first got ill, my GP labelled me a hysterical young woman. I began to believe this, and it was only Mammy’s persistence that led to an appointment with a neurologist and a life-saving diagnosis. It took me too long to realise how wise she was. About everything.
It’s fine to be swotty. I didn’t discover how much I loved to study until I returned to education in my fifties. I wish I’d realised it when my brain was young and eager.
Stop dyeing your hair. Good advice but I wouldn’t have listened.
Pets are always more work than your children claim. And you will always be the one left to clean the cage!
Tell us five things that most people don’t know about you
I grew up in Possilpark, Glasgow, which is regularly named as one of the most deprived areas in Europe. I have always lived in a council house and have had long periods on state benefits.
First in my family to go on to further education and I now have three degrees.
In my early twenties, I developed a rare neuromuscular disease, Myasthenia Gravis, which causes weakness of the muscles. It has obviously shaped my life, but I count myself lucky because there are a variety of treatments. My heart breaks for everyone with an untreatable long-term illness.
Since school, I’ve kept a diary. At twelve years old, no one wants to be told to keep a diary, especially when it might be read out in front of the class. But I kept mine going for the whole year. Then another year, and another and I now have fifty years’ worth of diaries. There’s something therapeutic about organising your day and thoughts, a way to wind down before sleep. Also a very visual reminder of how a lifetime can fit into a small box under the bed.
I am a very sweary old lady and must work hard to behave myself when appearing at book events.
Tell us five things you’d still like to do or achieve.
This is tricky, because so many unexpected and lovely things have happened in the last couple of years. I never set out to be a writer, simply to study, and becoming a published writer has been beyond my wildest dreams. The only thing that I’d truly like to achieve now is to be able to adequately thank the incredible team who have supported and championed A Bad, Bad Place.
Many thanks for joining me today Frances, it’s been a pleasure as I knew it would be after chatting with you at Harrogate. I’m still hoping my 1980’s self actually served you at the Oxfam shop when we both lived on Great Western Road, it would bring things full circle! Thanks for your music choices, being of a not disimilar age to yourself, they took me back. The Clash were the soundtrack to my early student years as they were constantly being played. As an ex Librarian (Public Libraries), I also appreciate their importance. As a child I was a constant visitor and wouldn’t have read half the books I did without one. I like that your reading is eclectic (everything from Voltaire to The Beano). The Beano was the very first thing I remember reading (or looking at really) I was 3 or 4 and laid up with Measles. As a librarian, I’ve always advocating reading anything. It’s the reading part that’s important, it opens up avenues but should also be a pleasure. We are all different, our choices don’t make us better or worse than somebody else – though it would be nice if other people were as generous when I say I read romance! Great advice to your younger self though I suspect many of us were that teenager at some stage. Also pleased to hear you’re another sweary old lady, it is supposed to be a sign of intelligence, although sometimes they’re just the only words that will do – especially when watching the news I find! I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed for you this evening for both awards – good luck!
A Bad, Bad Place
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What happened to the dog walker who found the body?
Glasgow, 1979.
Twelve-year-old Janey won’t take her dog, Sid Vicious, for a walk. Not anymore. It’s Sid’s fault she found the murdered woman.
Janey claims she can’t remember what she saw at the abandoned railway, but the police think she’s hiding something. And they’re not the only ones interested.
Fear and rumour rip through the tight-knit community of Possilpark. Janey and her nana, Maggie, are dragged into the hunt for a murderer. And Maggie’s struggle to keep her beloved granddaughter safe becomes ever more desperate.
Because Janey’s memories can’t stay hidden forever.
And neither can the killer…
