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Back at the Gladstone

Saturday saw a fourth return to the annual reading café at Gladstone Pottery Museum. It's always a great event, and this year was close to standing room only. This being the 11th of November, our thoughts were stirred by some beautifully crafted pieces on war. These weren't the typical blood, bullets and rascally Hun yarns - I was particularly moved by a masterful subtlety of metaphor from Bev Adams in her Little Brown Jug story. On lighter notes, Andrew Roberts buckled a maximum dose of swash in his Good Deed for the Day, while Jan Edwards managed to vocalise clearly despite having her tongue deeply embedded in her cheek for a Raymond Chandler take on the Jack of Hearts that would have had Bogart calling his agent.

The mighty Misha Herwin entrusted me with relating her deliciously dark story about a vengeful witch. I hope I did it justice - I certainly enjoyed it, even if the audience were too baffled by my rendering to understand the words. And speaking of understanding, I taxed everyone's comprehension with another chapter from the lives of the Rossmuirs, my Glasgow ghosts. Whether the audience were laughing at my finely-honed comedic prose or just giggling at my appalling Scottish accent is a moot point. But what the hell, as long as they were having fun...

 

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