Book

Today has been a long one. In the morning we had one of the regular workshop-seminars, this time on plot and structure and the seven basic plots that many believe underline all stories. Lunch was enlivened by a very friendly sheepdog belonging to one of the centre owners, who bounded up with a big doggy grin on her face, barking delightedly, completely unconcerned, it seemed, by the fact that we were all total strangers. She proceeded to inveigle various tasty treats and an extended stick-throwing session from us.
In the afternoon we had a group photo (which the dog tried to join), then it was my turn for a one-to-one seminar with one of the tutors. That was swiftly followed by an organised walk up one of the local heathery hillsides overlooking Loch Ness. The latter is only a couple of miles away.
In the evening it was then back to the fairy house for an another session. This time we were asked to read a passage from a favourite author. We were supposed to choose a book from the centre library but one or two of us cheated a little by firing up our Kindles (I'm saying nothing, guvnor). I read from the not-terribly-well-known-but-excellent 'Some Kind of Fairy Tale' by Graham Joyce.
After all that I'm feeling a little creaky...