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Sunday, 5 October 2014

A workshop where I am NOT dressed as a penguin, but a leather ostrich does appear.

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

Or at least, some of it did.  I didn't loom like some black-clad stick insect all the time (although I am delighted that I look so thin in this picture.  I have no idea why, I think it must be something to do with the way I am standing sideways on. I am a lot thicker if you look at me head on, although usually bits of me stick out a lot more sideways. On this occasion they are not, and so, for that, I am grateful).

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.
The ostrich is the one in the middle, for those of you in doubt.  It is staring wistfully at the opposite wall, maybe as though to distance itself from those peculiar writer-types, which is a bit rich since we are not the ones made of leather and nailed to the floor.

But I suppose there is no accounting for leather ostriches really, is there?


Rhoda Baxter said...

I think all libraries should have an inexplicable artwork around. Like the wooden train in Didcot library, the papier mache giraffes in Exeter medical library and the leather ostrich in Beverley library.
A few months earlier Beverley had an inexplicable statue of a bag lady made out of shredded money...

Jane Lovering said...

I'm so glad the bag lady was gone by the time I got there, there may have been a good deal of confusion as to why I wasn't made of money... And inexplicable art work is a great talking point, viz, leather ostrich...