MY LIT-FEST FRIDAY
(from 'Roundabout,' June 2009)
In my experience, meeting famous people often leads to disappointment. When I asked the Beach Boys’ Brian Wilson if he’d ever been to Yorkshire, he replied: ‘I think we did go to...that town.’ At the 2008 literature festival, Simon Armitage told me only five people in the country make a living from poetry, and that he was four of them. This set a dangerous precedent for my encounters with Jackie Kay, Kate Atkinson, and Niall Stanage on Friday 24th May, but in the end I was pleasantly surprised and delighted by all three.
Jackie Kay was first, starting her reading at the not-unreasonable time of 10.30 in the morning. However, for the first time in at least two years, I failed to wake up at the sound of my alarm – perhaps due to a lengthy visit to the pub the night before. In the end, I was woken up at quarter past, by a phone call from the friend I had arranged to meet at ten and attend the event with. She was wondering where I had got to, and sighed when I told her I had only just woken up.
‘I take it you’re not coming then?’ She asked. But I assured her I both could and would make it, after which I slammed down the phone, threw on some clothes, and ran along Valley Road and up to the library. I made it to the door by 10.28, at which time me and companion were ushered hurriedly in, to take our seats in the glamorously decorated concert room.
I had only a passing familiarity with Jackie’s work before her performance, so went into it with virtually no expectations. Should I ever see her again, my expectations will be sky-high – she was that fantastic. She was warm, witty and funny, constantly relevant and yet surprising. Her poems from upcoming collection ‘The Ma Broon Monologues’ were a personal highlight, putting the familiar cartoon character into some very amusing modern situations, and delivered with a flawless Scottish accent. (Though different, I should stress, from her usual speaking voice.)
Her anecdotes between the poems were always hilarious, and delivered with a humility that I am sure every person in the hall found endearing. The most memorable of these was an elderly Scottish woman who asked Jackie (who is of mixed race) where she was from, to which Jackie answered: ‘Glasgow.’ The elderly woman replied: ‘Och, ya foreign bugger!’
After the reading, I bid my friend farewell, and queued up to get a copy of Jackie’s selected poems signed by her. I had another plan as well – after getting her book signed, I produced a copy of my poetry collection, and asked in my politest tone if she would like a free copy. She accepted it very gracefully, and asked me to sign it for her. I haven’t heard anything yet, but I like to imagine her reading it on the train home.
After this, I had arranged to meet some members of the Poetry Workshop for lunch, continuing my literary day, one which was turning out to be well worth getting up for. Then it was back to the Concert Room for Kate Atkinson, one of my literary heroes, and the event I had been most looking forward to at the festival. And she didn’t let me down! She gave a wonderful, well-chosen, nuanced reading from ‘When Will There Be Good News?’, and made some great observations about writing. My flatmate observed later that Kate could have said anything and I’d have thought it was the greatest sentence ever uttered – and perhaps she is right. I am certainly not the person to come to for a balanced review! But even I was not as dedicated as fellow Writer’s Circle member Stuart Larner, who sat by my side and diligently took notes throughout (which I now suspect I should have borrowed.)
I tried my shtick again during her signing session, bringing a battered copy of one of her older books to be signed, and giving her a copy of my novel. She appeared even keener than Jackie, taking time to read the blurb and ask me about it. The blurb makes reference to an ‘introverted sixth former,’ and Kate asked if that was me. I replied: ‘it was...’
I left the library that afternoon floating on a cloud – they had both done some excellent publicity work, and I am more of a fan of both of those authors than ever. There is a lesson here for aspiring writers in the circle. Careers can be made and broken on the interactions with the public.
My day ended in style, with a visit to see Niall Stanage, a journalist who was with Obama during his Presidential campaign – which ended six months ago, as you read this. Doesn’t time go quickly! He was brilliant as well, attracting a different and more political crowd than the other two, but fielding the questions thoughtfully and with a clarity that suggested he could do this all day, every day, without breaking a sweat. My complimentary glass of red wine was much appreciated too, and helped all the political thoughts slip down a bit easier. His mission seemed to be to leave us all with a feeling of optimism, about the future of the USA and indeed the world, something which for me, he achieved.
I went home delighted with my day at the Literature Festival, to stick the tickets into my journal, write down my thoughts, and have a well-earned sleep – which presumably culminated with a long overdue lie-in.
