It’s a small wonder that Britain can host a short story festival, given our publishing industry’s demur when it comes to paying anyone to write them.

Only after a generation of creative writing MAs has the form begun to assert itself on the popular literary consciousness – though for little or no financial reward.

It’s no great surprise that the American short story should be in a class of its own, given its history as paid employment.

F Scott Fitzgerald, was, at the height of his powers, earning the equivalent of $350,000 per annum, according to Sarah Churchwell, author of Careless People about the writing of Gatsby, and one of two distinguished panellists (with chair Alex Clark) infectiously erudite, eclectic, and united in their passion for the American short story.

Vindela Vida pointed out that regional papers paid big bucks for one-off fiction read by a transient, work-hungry population. The sort of serialisation that Dickens fans enjoyed over here would have been no good to a travelling labourer.

"A willingness of the heart" is how Fitzgerald sums up America in his story The Swimmers.

It’s about the size of a short story, too. And a literary festival in a cowshed. Small Wonder: great pleasure.

Five stars