On Saturday, the delightful Rhoda Baxter and I were in charge of a workshop over at Beverley. It was not the kind of workshop that turns out exquisitely designed things made from other things or, at least, it was, but the things that became other things were ideas, if you see what I mean. We were leading a workshop on Writing Romantic Comedy.
It looked like this
As you can see, there were a number of delightful people present, all of whom laughed in the right places, so I didn't have to do the thing where I stand and raise and lower my hand to indicate when laughter should result. Which is good, because it always makes me look as though I am giving hand signals to a distant, yet obedient, dog. So I didn't have to do that.
We talked, and people asked interesting and engaging questions and seemed to enjoy the resulting answers. I always love Q&A sessions, especially as this one, when the questions are well thought out and are not 'where do you get your ideas from?' or 'why do you smell indefinably, and yet unignorably, of mature cheddar?'
And then, when we had finished our workshop and signed a few copies of our books which had been bought by the perspicacious and even more delightful attendees, we went and stood by an inexplicable ostrich. Because Beverley Library has, in its possession and foyer, an ostrich made of leather.
But I suppose there is no accounting for leather ostriches really, is there?
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