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Meetings are held on the first and third Tuesdays of the month at Dancox House Club Room, St Clements Gardens, St Johns, Worcester from 7.30 pm to 9.30pm.
If you want to know more about Worcester Writers' Circle, please telephone Sue Round, Secretary 01905 619062.
Probably the oldest writers' circle in the country, we have grown from half a dozen enthusiasts in the dark days of the Second World War, to a thriving and productive group of people who share their experiences, successes and pitfalls at each meeting. We have a wide range of writers, some published professionals, some occasionally appearing in magazines, and many newcomers eager to see their name in print.
At a normal meeting, we read from our work, sometimes on a theme set for the evening and we offer advice and reactions. A cup of tea and a chat of course, and discussions about markets, successes and rejections. Sometimes we have a speaker from amongst our ranks, or a guestjoining us for the evening. Our interests are wide - stories, Westerns, nostalgia, poetry, biography, roofing and cats have all featured at our meetings. If you can get to Worcester, (that's the one in Worcestershire, England) give us a try.
Why I Love Checkout Queues
by Tony Robinson
We are told that there are three certainties in life: birth, death and taxes. To these I would add a fourth: checkout queues in supermarkets. Love 'em or hate 'em, they're always there; and for those of us who enjoy writing, the supermarket is a fine place to watch the world hurtle by.
Sometimes the queue can be infuriating, as it was for me this morning. The over-generously bosomed woman in front of me had just begun to receive her goods from the cashier when her mobile phone rang. Everything had to stop, of course, and the goods piled up in front of her until there was no room for more. At this point she began packing her shopping bags, one-handed, in a desultory sort of way, the while carrying on a loud conversation that attracted attention from shoppers in the queues either side of ours. "That place would fall apart without me," she'd claim, and then, "Well, I haven't had any of you lot coming round to rub my chest!" I wondered idly if she was charged by the acre for that particular service, and did my best to keep my cool. Never mind; I shall manage to squeeze her into a story somehow, though it'll be a tight fit.
But your time in the queue need not be limited to people-watching and eavesdropping, for you can take up a brand new hobby, only recently dignified by the name of trolley-gazing. The scruffy gent who has just loaded twelve French sticks and four pounds of sausages into his trolley; is he staging a barbecue with a rather limited menu, or does he run that snack van out on the bypass? The yummy mummy, her trolley laden with a positive greenhouseful of organic vegetables, is no doubt very health-conscious and environmentally friendly; but couldn't she have managed with just one bottle of gin instead of three?
Suppose, then, that the large lady, driving along the bypass while talking on her mobile phone, has run into the yummy mummy (who has made rather free with the gin) fifty yards from the snack van. While they wait for the police they chat politely over a mug of tea and a sausage sarney - and with this collision of lifestyles you can take the story from there.
Copyright © 2004 Tony Robinson