As this year’s session draws to a close, Wednesday was the final opportunity for club members to bring works in progress before their fellow writers and await their measured and constructive assessment.
The evening itself started with a scene of confusion, worthy of a place in any Wodehouse text. Those of us who skilfully managed to miss the diversion intended to feed us seamlessly to an alternative location, proceeded instead to reorganise the (carefully arranged) furniture in our usual room. When discovered, the reaction could hardly have been more dramatic than if we had been caught in the act of assembling a rocket launcher. Although to be fair, the fact that some of the company had also helped themselves to the contents of the hospitality tray probably didn’t help.
Suitably chastised, we were ushered, hastily, to the kitchen annex, no sorry, the other suite, where our colleagues awaited us, relieved at our late arrival, if not a trifle bemused by it.
There was a light-hearted air of anticipation as each group knitted itself into a happy knot and settled down to the business of the day. From ‘huddle number two’ the ruminations of those around us sang out in bars of laughter, with the occasional discords that offered the promise of debate to come.
The range of genre was as impressive as the content as we put our heads together to mull over moving memoir, faultless fact and flights of fancy, to name but a few of the delights on offer. Everyone had something to say and seemed to be in the mood to say it. It was a truly enjoyable and memorable evening, rounded off by the burgeoning social gathering in the bar, to which all are very welcome. It’s an entertaining way to end the evening, offering opportunities to develop ideas half-formed within the session, discuss literary plans and problems or just watch the staff wipe their brows in relief, as they see us off the premises.
Dorothy Gallagher