Saw a nice production of Linda Maclean's "Stranger, babies" last night at the Traverse. So engaging that I managed to fall asleep in the climactic scene.

But then maybe I'm just a bit sleepy at the moment as I slept this afternoon through the climactic opening to a Japanese film, "sway" at the Filmhouse. I'll blame my almost non-existent cold. Or the fact that I'd gulped down half a bottle of wine over a light salad for lunch.

Anyway, "Stranger, babies" was notable as far as I was concerned because they dressed and undressed the main character on stage in between scenes in a beautiful half light. Part of the action but not quite. And the assembled company - a small select band of the theatre group - felt that this was a lovely and inventive way to approach things. I wonder if I can somehow shoehorn that into the festival show.

Various cast members were milling around in the bar afterwards. Starstruck as ever, I gazed at them longingly from a distance.

I've been chasing and chasing this agent about the performing rights for "Tiny Dynamite". It has been a month now since I applied for permission. I can't help thinking "small amateur company gets lost in mire of more glamourous and exciting (London-based) prospects" would be an appropriate headline. If a little long.

Still, I called again a couple of days back and - to be fair to the man - he seemed to dredge my emails up from the recesses of his memory without too effort. I've now solved the timing problem. The script doesn't need to be cut at all to fit into the two hour time slot. So that was one less question for him / Abi to answer. So I've sent a few more details (dates, times, venue) off to him in the hopes that this will prompt an affirmative answer.

He said he "didn't think it would be a problem". Famous last words.

Irrelevant but pretty. From Oxford for a friend's wedding before Christmas. A little sun on the Radcliffe Camera.

(I'm so predictable. I've just seen a photographer as part of a business clinic, a Leith strategy of giving something back to the locality. And so I'm feeling all thwarted artist. Go home, Claire.)

So I sent off applications to both the Quaker Meeting House and Diverse Attractions for a late night week 2 slot in the festival.

The QMH came back to me promptly and said they sadly couldn't accommodate us. Given the choice between us - relative unknowns despite my feeble courting - and their stalwart regulars for the prime time slot, I'm not wholly surprised.

But Diverse Attractions, god bless them, said they'd be glad to have us. Didn't get my first choice of week 2 but made it into week 3 for the coveted (by me at least) 9 - 11pm time slot. So we have our venue.

I still haven't heard back from the agent for Tiny Dynamite. Must chase.

But we had a reading a week or so ago of the play at our regular monthly meeting. I went into this with trepidation as I usually try and avoid prior vetting of my script choices. Being a reasonably staid group, I tend to worry that too many "fuck"s will alarm people unduly. And somehow in a read-through, they always leap out at you in a way that you seem to avoid on the stage.

Having said that, I think "Tiny Dynamite" is reasonably staid as far as my play choices go. No paedophilia. No wanking of dead people. Not that much swearing. A kiss or maybe two. But pretty tame in comparison to some of my recent ventures. But nonetheless, I worried.

I needn't have. My readers limped through it valiantly. And I think people were reasonably positive about it. Certainly no-one has vetoed the play choice. Just need to chase up the agent.

I went to see Filter Theatre Company / the National Theatre's production of the Caucasian Chalk Circle in Dundee last night.

Brilliantly, the Best Lighting Man in Edinburgh said "Well I don't think your actors were as good as theirs." You don't say.

But gratifyingly, he preferred the way I'd staged it. A little moment of basking in delayed glory.