Reading reading reading. Read three plays about families from the Traverse at the weekend, mostly about disease and death. Dreary. Some shortish plays by Tom Stoppard. Witty and hilarious but I just can't get that excited about them. A very bleak play by Shelagh someone Stevenson maybe called Five kinds of silence. I loved the title but the story tells the tale of a mother who almost conspired in the abuse of her daughters by her husband by not speaking out in their defence. Then the daughters shoot the husband and get put into prison.

There must be more to short plays than this.