Stratford, Fowey, Hay...

The last few weeks have been beautifully eventful. At the end of April, the day after I returned from Budapest, I took part in the Stratford-upon-Avon Literary Festival. It was my first time in Shakespeare's town, and the venue where my How To Get Published event was taking place - with authors Hilary Boyd and Michelle Heatley - was within the hallowed walls of the Shakespeare Centre, smack next door to the house where Will was born. For the panel we each talked about our different routes to publication, and enjoyed keen questions from an audience that was largely made-up of aspiring writers. That evening, still in Stratford, I had the delight of meeting up with Susan Fletcher, whose incredibly beautiful fourth novel, The Silver Dark Sea, came out last summer. There's no contemporary writer that I admire more than Susan Fletcher. Her prose sings with poetry, and her stories are always intimate, spirited, and soulful. It was such a pleasure to hole up at The Dirty Duck with her and talk all things writing. I rode the train back to Bristol glowing. I mean glowing.

Next up was Fowey Festival (the Du Maurier Festival, as was) in mid-May, and a hugely fun panel with Shelley Harris (author of Jubilee), Ginny Baily (author of Africa Junction), agent Maggie Philips, and chaired by Professor Helen Taylor. Our subject, Confessions of First Novelists, made for lively discussion. It was a treat to be reunited with Helen and Shelley, with whom I so enjoyed Appledore Festival last autumn. Our short stay in Fowey was cram-packed with extra-curricular fun; pitch-black woodland rambles, moon-lit paddling, scones with lashings of cream and homemade jam, sunny strolls alongside the dazzling waters of the river Foy and Readymoney Cove. 

All in all the Fowey Festival was a brilliantly scenic and pleasurable experience, made all the lovelier for the Daphne du Maurier connection. Rebecca is a favourite book, and I've long been an admirer of du Maurier's writing. Being in Fowey, the heart and home of so much of her work, was thoroughly inspirational. I'm always interested in writers who set their store by place, and I couldn't resist a touristy stop-off to buy a Daphne postcard. I love the quote on the back; 'Here was the freedom I desired, long sought for, not yet known. Freedom to write, to walk, to wander, freedom to climb hills, to pull a boat, to be alone.' Given my liking for stealing away to scenic spots to write on my own, I'm eyeing Fowey for my next such trip...

From Fowey to Hay, then. My husband and his bro, comic book creators The Etherington Brothers, were appearing as part of the Hay Fever Programme and I got to go along with them. They were hot off a tour with the Scottish Book Trust, meaning that by the time our three days in Hay were up, a whopping 3,700 children had seen their show. My duties at the Festival were solely photographic... The boys had me nip on to the stage to take a snap of their biggest ever live audience - 900 eleven and twelve year-olds. Here's what that looks like... 

When I wasn't hanging with Robin and Lorenzo - or meeting some of the very interesting people that a town like Hay throws your way - I was happily lost in the many bookshops, or tucked in a café corner with a notebook, feeling my way into the first pages of what will be my third book. Being out and about the last few weeks has been perfectly inspiring and a whole lot of fun, but now, as we roll towards summer, I'm ready to close the door to my writing room, open up the window, sit down at my desk... and write.