Postcard from the pigeon loft

Pigeon racing is not something I knew a dickie bird about until I spent a morning on a writing workshop with the artists at Project Pigeon. The birds are nothing like their scrawny street cousins. Nor are they pets. These pigeons are intelligent athletes. And, as in any sport, there is money, strategy, suspicion, ritual and rumour: all the elements for dramatic fiction.

The fact we were sitting around a shed in a yard situated under the railway arches of inner Birmingham couldn't detract from the fact that the birds were calm company, the world of pigeon fancying is surprisingly fascinating and the sun was shining. I scribbled loads of notes and outlined the plot of a rather gentle thriller set in the world of pigeon racing. It's unlikely that book will ever be written by me, but I am thinking up ways to work a pigeon loft into other stories.

I doubt I'll be using a pigeon as a main character though. Their key characteristic appeared to be that they just want to be at home with the family, eating. While this translates into an impressive homing instinct which uses navigational skills to surpass any satnav and speed to outpace birds of prey, once they get home, all they do is sit there. It just doesn't make for a satisfying ending.