Tracee Findlater's Blog

What a day! First the proper launch of Evie and the Pirate Queen at the KLSS Steampunk Bazaar, where I got to chat to lots of lovely people about books (I may have to write a crime novel, it seems to be the overwhelming favourite – or perhaps the easiest to articulate) and generally swan about feeling fancy in my favourite outfit. Then to the fabulous Kings Lynn Book Festival where I introduced the evening session on Approaches to Storytelling – a two minute speech that went by in such a blur I have no recollection of what I said! Thank you to everyone who has been so supportive and brilliant so far.

Evie Walker and the Pirate Queen is officially out now in paperback! Thanks so much to everyone who has helped us get this far.

Take a look at lyriabooks.co.uk, where you will meet 12-year-old Evie Walker, an orphan whose quiet life is shattered when a vicious bounty hunter attacks her home. Swept into the thrilling, high-stakes world of the Pirate Queen, Evie must find her courage on the dangerous open seas. The live launch is on Saturday at the King’s Lynn Steampunk Bazaar, but you can order online from today.

Perfect for middle-grade readers and adult adventure lovers alike!

Stepping away from poetry was a tough call. I love the form, and it is still my dream for Lyria Books to publish brilliant poets in the future, but trying to divide my energy between poetry and fiction became hard to sustain.

With a second novel coming out in October, focusing purely on fiction has been the right move. I’m so grateful to everyone who supported my poetry journey, especially Kim Allen and the Wisbech Stanza Group. Thank you for a wonderful six years – I wish you all the best over the next six.

Stepping away from poetry was a tough call. I love the form, but trying to divide my energy between poetry and fiction became hard to sustain.

With a second novel coming out in October, focusing purely on fiction has been the right move. I’m so grateful to everyone who supported my poetry journey, especially Kim Allen and the Wisbech Stanza Group. Thank you for a wonderful five years – I wish you all the best over the next five.

I had a brilliant time helping to judge the Soroptimist International of King’s Lynn’s Fifteenth Public Speaking Competition for Primary Schools this evening.

What a great event! With topics around the ongoing relevance of libraries (by far the most popular!), the astronomical cost of space travel and the value of school councils, we were blown away by the talent and maturity of the speakers:
https://sigbi.org/kings-lynn/2026/07/06/pupils-show-off-public-speaking-skills/

It was great to be in conversation with Ben Tufnell last night, author of The North Shore and Paradise. Thanks to King’s Lynn Book Festival, GroundWork Gallery, Studio Baum and N&N Festival for making it happen, and of course to all the lovely people who came along to listen and buy books.

What a great experience, reading some new poems to a lovely audience and getting Gorgoneion out in the world! Gorgoneion explores the modern existence of the immortal Gorgons, Stheno and Euryale, following the death of their mortal sister, Medusa. It was great to meet so many people interested in poetry and mythology at the International Women’s Day event in Wisbech, and thanks to everyone who picked up a copy. More information at lyriabooks.co.uk.

I’ve updated this page so that it includes updates as well as poems. As you may know, my debut novel, The Unravelling of Flora Cotton, came out this week, published by Lyria Books. I had a great time at the Steampunk Bazaar in King’s Lynn meeting lots of lovely readers and talking about books. What a brilliant day! It’s also available on Amazon. Thanks to everyone who has supported me along the way.

I see you on the platform, half in shade,
a cigarette before your words could land,
bruise-blue smoke, an envelope you made
to seal your half-formed dreams inside your hand.

Then there you are again, the leaning wall,
your legs apart, its veins of cracked decay,
still gloating at your clever games, and all
the monstrous truths Jerusalem would say.

Your face, a silver veil, conceals the sparks,
those night bus elegies that twist away;
and every time you vanish into dark,
I die again, as if it were today.

Today I passed
that café,
the one with
the big red umbrellas,
where I used to sit
saying all the
right things
but thinking
of you,
the many
old hours
with and
without you,
falling
scattering
shifting
like ash
on a breeze,
not a memory
or a thought:
more of a shiver,
the way a door closes
and you realize
it was never
truly
open.