Andy Murray is carving out his own niche in sporting history, trying not to think of the day when, aged just eight, he hid under a table with his brother to avoid the eye and gun of Thomas Hamilton, the former local Scout leader whom he knew.

But memories of 13 March 1996, when Hamilton walked into a primary school and shot dead sixteen children and a teacher, are still vivid in the minds of the people of Scotland.

Dunblane is only about 35 miles from where I live; that’s the closest I’ve come to this horror in real life. I’ve visited the city since 1996 and felt the impact of its shocking claim to fame hidden under the pretty exterior.

And at snowdrop time it’s fitting to pause and remember.

The Snowdrop campaign was founded in the aftermath of the Dunblane massacre to call for a total ban on the private ownership and use of handguns in the United Kingdom.

My heart goes out to everyone who’s known the reality of such a catastrophe personally. The city, the community, the families, will never be the same again. But spare a thought, also, for the relatives of the killers who perpetrate these terrible acts. Their lives too are decimated. And who will give them a hug, lay flowers at their door, send them a sympathy card, make allowances?

I’ve read several novels about school massacres – We Need to Talk about Kevin and Nineteen Minutes stay with me. Disturbing tales, cleverly crafted, gripping in a macabre sort of way. More recently Rupture caught my attention.

This is Simon Lelic’s debut novel – and what a debut. Reviews have been mixed, but in my opinion it’s unusual, taut, gritty. And challenging.

In the midst of a sweltering hot summer in London, a young history teacher, Samuel Szajkowski, walks into his school assembly and opens fire, killing three pupils and a colleague before turning the gun on himself. An open and shut case; there are more than a hundred witnesses.

Lucia May, the police inspector assigned to the investigation, is expected to wrap up the report smartly. But Lucia becomes obsessed with the questions no-one else wants to ask: what drove this polite, shy man to commit this horrific crime? She starts delving. And she really listens. Her own experience of institutional harassment gives her the courage to defy everyone who wants to stop her doing so. And then schoolboy Elliot Samson commits suicide … her resolve hardens.

What makes this book so different is the style of writing. We hear the evidence as the inspector hears it, streams of words from each witness, without interruption or interjection. Such is the power of the story-telling that Lelic doesn’t even tell us directly who is speaking as the case gradually builds – a picture so chilling, so ugly, and yet so cleverly manipulated that it’s doubtful if justice will ever prevail.

Abuse, bullying, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia – they’re all there, and yet the issues themselves aren’t allowed to overshadow the story-line.

If I have a criticism it’s that the profanities are rather overdone. Oh, and the conventional third person sections are weaker than the witnesses’ accounts. And the ending is clumsy and unfinished. But in spite of all that, overall I was gripped by the story and didn’t want it to end.

I do read cheerful books too, honestly! It’s just that the dark and chilling, lend themselves to sharing bloggy kinds of thoughts on VelvetEthics.

One of the things that has touched me greatly this year has been the messages sent by readers. I acknowledged each one individually, but I want to thank you more publicly too.

Writing’s an essentially lonely occupation, and every time a new novel comes out, I get the heebie-jeebies. Is it any good? Will anyone buy it? Will anyone like it? March is fast approaching and I’m going through the same qualms with Remember Remember. Editing fiercely; hoping.

Just knowing real people have read my books, engaged with the characters, and formed an opinion is heartening; the personal touch so much more meaningful than sales figures. I particularly like to hear that people have lent them to friends – a much stronger affirmation than knowing X people have bought (but not necessarily read) them … although, if my publisher’s reading this – I am promoting sales, honestly!

To my shame I’ve been remiss myself in giving feedback to authors. However, there’s no mileage in regret, so I decided before 2009 ends to compile a list of ten books that come instantly to mind (without consulting my bookshelves); books that I’ve loved and recommended/lent to other people. My little tribute to some giants among writers, whom I should have contacted and didn’t. (I’ve deliberately left out the classics to make the choice more personal.)

In no particular order
Past Caring Robert Goddard
Sacred and Profane Marcelle Bernstein
Fingersmith Sarah Waters
We Need to Talk about Kevin Lionel Shriver
The Jigsaw Man Paul Britton
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime Mark Haddon
The Third Twin Ken Follett
Still Alice Lisa Genova
Take No Farewell Robert Goddard
Rebecca’s Tale Sally Beauman

I salute all these authors. And add to my New Year resolutions:
Be more active in acknowledging literary brilliance in future.

My very best wishes to you all for 2010 – whether or not you’ve contacted me! And happy reading!