I was sorry to miss the owls in the local Borders midnight party. The comedy potential (getting lost in Paperchase, shitting on the Grisham, discovering the updraft over the elevators, feasting on the eyes of exhausted Potter-fan brats) seemed endless. Also, the acute probability of dressed-up staff and fans was camera-tempting. Speaking of which, they did have a good excuse but oh there are all sorts of things wrong with this picture... jinty wasn't the only person reading the book at the festival; in fact, when she went for beer, someone tried to buy it off us. For drugs.