The town of Callander, not far from the city of Stirling, is one of those places often referred to as ‘gateway to the Highlands’. It’s a busy little place, and scenic, with great big wooded crags behind it, from which the rain (when it’s raining) comes rolling down. It has a wonderful second-hand bookshop (more of that later).
I’ve always specially liked the term ‘little magazine’. It sounds so un-literary. But of course, it’s the reverse.
I thought at first I was getting fewer submissions this time round. I was managing to open the envelopes, read and write back. I was managing quite well.
There is a pile of envelopes on the stairs, ready to post back to their owners, and another pile on the sofa unread.