A Delectation of Options, and more Hair Angst

Last night there were, apparently, a clutch of different literary events going in Edinburgh: Humberto Ak’abal, the Guatemalan poet I saw in Ullapool, was at the Scottish Book Trust; Alan Riach and Alistair Moffat had an event in the New Town; poet Chase Twichell was at the Scottish Poetry Library; and Lesley Glaister was launching her new novel, Chosen, at Word Power Books. I decided to meander down to Word Power and was delighted by my choice: Lesley’s reading was whetsome, her insights into the reasons why she chose to write about cults were fascinating, and it was great to see a small press (Tindal Street) branching out in terms of both genre and region. Chosen must also be one of the few novels partially set in Peebles – the Borders town most famous for Lord Cockburn’s quote “As quiet as the grave… or Peebles”.  But can it really be beyond the wit of man or woman to prevent these clashes of schedules? Surely the City of Literature has the capacity to set up a Google Calendar for interested parties to use? In other pressing literary news: News International is to close the Ecosse section of the Sunday Times (publicists are aghast, and this will mean a reduction in the potential coverage for Scottish culture generally); St Andrews Press – the publishing arm of the Church of Scotland – is to close; and Alistair Campbell will be publishing his unexpurgated diaries (yah sucks to all you fools who bought the tidy version). Welcome to life under the Condemns. Finally: I think my hair has started to grow again. And there is a serious dearth of half-way stylish hats in Edinburgh.

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2 Comments

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2 responses to “A Delectation of Options, and more Hair Angst

  1. I’d be happy to work with a calendar. I had a book launch for one of my authors last night, and at the time I settled on her date I didn’t know about the other events.

  2. clom

    Ah the knotty problem of inter-organisational scheduling!

    Institutions are as much at the mercy of the schedule of the wandering author as the scribe is of clashing with the launch of a more ubiquitous and celebrated competitor.

    These nimble creatures flitter through our cities in the blink of an overnight and tis off “Down to London” or “Off to Italy” or back to whatever well appointed bolt-hole they lay their weary heads.

    Perhaps mixed bills would be a neat comprimise, and might create interesting harmonies (or better again, exhiliarating dischords!)?

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