Red Dust Road by Jackie Kay

Trumpet by Jackie Kay was the second book on my reading list at university. Because she too had studied English literature at Stirling and was still close to then head of the department and all-round incredible woman Professor Angela Smith, Kay read us students from her debut novel.
I still feel lucky I was in that lecture hall in 2001. Not just because I loved Trumpet, but I respected the author. She had what appeared to be a life in which she didn’t let anything stop her. Her writing was (and is still) brave, attacking the kind of issues with a vigour and creativity many first time novelists would go nowhere near. She seemed strong, talented and inspirational – the perfect role model for an 18-year-old aspiring writer.
So, tomorrow before I board a plane to New York, I will be airport shopping for her latest book Red Dust Road. I wanted to snap it up when it was released earlier this month, but decided to save it for a special occasion (such as being in the air for eight hours) and read it without interruption.
It is the story of her search for and journey to meet her birth parents. Kay was brought up as the adopted Nigerian child of two Glaswegian communists, John and Helen Kay.

The former worked for the Communist Party and the latter was the Scottish Secretary of the CND – they threw raucous parties, socialised with interesting people and by all accounts I have read, Kay had a marvellous if unconventional childhood.
However, this did not curb her longing to meet her birth parents – a nurse from the Highlands and a handsome Nigerian man who met and fell in love at the dancing in Aberdeen.
This is not the first time the writer has written about her identity. Her 2001 collection of poetry, The Adoption Papers, also addressed the space between the family she loved, the inheritance she couldn’t explain and the loneliness she felt following racist verbal attacks.
In general, Kay’s writing is wonderful and if her autobiographical prose does not appeal, her creative fiction most likely will.
Start with Trumpet, move on to Wish I Was Here and then pick up Darling. But if you are at a literary loose end and do need a book for a long journey, perhaps give Red Dust Road a try. I may not have read it yet, but like all greats, you don’t need to crack the spine of their latest book to know it will soon be one of your favourites.