Chasing Creative Sparks Along the High Street

Story by Lois DeLong. Photos by Andy Chen and Lois DeLong.

Edited by Jack Sloan.

“I  am a transcriber exhausting myself after 9 -11 because I need to help.”

“I am a soon-to-be-released prisoner whose daughter portrays me as a reckless giant.”

“I have stories to tell. Will you listen?”

If you could find a still point along the bustling High Street during August in Edinburgh, Scotland, your ears may buzz with “I am” statements like those above, as thousands of writers and performers filled the air with tales of courage, loss, or a well-timed joke. During that month, the Scottish capital simultaneously embraces five festivals devoted to music, film, books, and theatre. 

But, of the many experiences offered by these overlapping programs, the Fringe Festival may offer the richest set of options. Born in 1947, when eight theater companies crashed the Edinburgh International Festival, this DIY celebration has become a global North Star for storytellers. In 2024, thousands of these modern bards brought 3,317 shows from 58 countries to 262 venues, including pubs, churches, schools, and parks. More than 2.6 million tickets were sold, and the ten I purchased proved to be a worthwhile investment. 

I had yearned to attend the Fringe since I first dipped my toe in the theatre world as a 70s NYU undergraduate. Back then, I heard how performers like comedians Peter Cook and Dudley Moore, and the members of the Monty Python troupe first garnered attention at this festival. I arrived in the city for Fringe 2024 ready to see performers who might be the next Cook and Moore, or even the next Phoebe Waller-Bridge, who first told the stories that shaped her Netflix show Fleabag at the Fringe. 

But, beyond the excitement of watching brilliant new performers, I came to soak in the stories of others. I arrived at the Fringe a year into semi-retirement, eager not only to travel but also to fuel my fledgling career as a creative writer. I had published two short stories months prior and was seeking inspiration from those who had found the words to share their life stories. During my six days roaming the city, I immersed myself in human sagas that were funny, tragic, or a mix of both. My heart soared watching the cowboy from Tennessee fiddling as he balanced on a chain, only for my spirit to sink and break as a grieving Vietnam Vet confessed how the senseless loss of a comrade-at-arms started him down a path of far-right political involvement. 

Of all these amazing tales, one particular production hit that note of inspiration I was seeking. “A Giant on the Bridge” uses original songs, parallel narratives, and a spin on a classic fairy tale to chart the emotional fallout for a family when a member is incarcerated. Drawing a few of its story threads and songs from a songwriting program offered at prisons across Scotland, I left that show overwhelmed with emotions. My mind swam with new ways to share the joy, pain, and loss inherent in being human.

But, it wasn’t only the Fringe performances that sparked my inspiration. Scotland itself is a place alive with myths and legends— its national animal is the unicorn, after all. The country spins tales even without its capital’s unique August madness. Ultimately, it was as much the striking landscape of the Highlands as the stories shared along the High Street that reignited my imagination. For years, I had buried my literary muses under excuses. In Scotland, all I wanted to do was write. When a tour guide in the Highlands mentioned that sheep outnumber people in the country, it didn’t take me long to begin spinning a yarn of wooly rampagers assuming control of small Highland hamlets and renaming the country B-a-a-a-ab-ylon. Look out for The Wooly Chronicles, a tale of ovine revenge, from yours truly.

By visiting Edinburgh, I gave myself the best gift possible: the revelation that my creative wells still run deep. To conclude, you may not come to Scotland as a storyteller, but chances are, you will leave with your own tall tale to tell.