I know it's kind of silly to say, but so what I walked to Helen Oyeyemi and introduced myself. My cheek. 'Hi, Helen.' She just looked back at me, unsure what to say, perhaps thinking, oh no, not one of my thousand male admirers again. Of course I am a great admirer of her works. 'I enjoyed reading your two books. I thought they were great.' And so we ended up talking writing, one young Nigerian writer talking to a young Zimbabwean writer.
No wonder The Next Big Things who had a surprise full house enjoyed their hour of fame. It was a rare treat for the new writers to spend a day in the Green Room with renowned writers like Gillian Clarke and Blake Morrison.
Though I couldn't make it in time to see Nobel laureate Orhan Pamuk talk, thanks to technology, I caught the last half of his session on the big screen we have in the admin office.
After the long day I joined a group of interns for a drink in a pub in town. We drank less than we talked. Midnight. It must have been the pub owner or the manager, he came, holding a glass of beer and told us to go away. He was angry (maybe I am exaggerating, it's difficult to see things clearly when you are sober) that we had rearranged the furniture to accommodate our big group of 12. The night was gone.
