In post-war Glasgow a primary school class was set a composition topic: a memorable family event. Each child completed the assignment – all, that is, but one. 

Why didn’t you write about your family?

Please, miss. I didn’t, I didn’t know what to write.

But now, he does.




In Already, Too Late, Carl MacDougall, one of Scotland’s most accomplished and celebrated literary writers, presents a memoir of extraordinary authenticity and honesty.




This memoir takes us through MacDougall’s upbringing, both in and out of care on the west coast of Scotland, Fife, and industrial Glasgow, during the first decade of his life.




Within this world, now teetering on the brink of our collective memory, sits a single-parent household of German descent; money is tight, trauma roams free and tragedy comes calling again and again.




Through a powerful mosaic of stories, MacDougall strips away all rose-tinted sentimentality to create a vivid account of heart-break, dissociation and loss.




Already, Too Late is the early life of an outsider looking in, a changeling child, displaced, alone, and – in his own grandmother’s words – ‘no right’. Because for some, even the very beginning is already too late.