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The smell of grass, warming sun, a cooling breeze, just a hint of autumn to come. It’s a haven from the mayhem and madness of Fringe, the gentle cadences of intelligent discourse and dialogue a murmuring under the trees. It must be Adelaide Writers’ Week.

Photograph by Kathryn McClintock

Under the boughs at Adelaide Writers’ Week

This is where the old (and I mean old) Adelaidian intelligentsia emerge from their cloisters, blinking in the sun under their straw hats in the Pioneer Women’s Memorial Garden for their annual lit-fest. Here we receive insights from, and get to quiz the stars of the English language literary scene: Christos Tjolkas (the Slap, Barracuda), Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love) and many, many others, including the hilarious Alexander McCall Smith (the No. 1 Lady’s Detective Agency). A pop-up bookstore, bar and bistro and, most importantly, the signing table where you can meet your literary idols, make for a highly civilised day out.

Sometimes ¬†though I fear for the future of civilisation. Who’s going to read all the books or attend Writers’ Week when the current demographic have shed their mortal coil? OMG! And how are they going to interact with authors with only an ebook to sign? Now just got to Instagram this cool selfie with an author… ROFL #adlww

Photograph by Kathryn McClintock

At the signing table. Photographs by Kathryn McClintock.