An afternoon at Clifton Village Literary Festival

For anyone who doesn’t know Bristol, Clifton is a village in the way that Greenwich (NYC) is a village. I mean depsite proximity to the wide open spaces of the Downs, it’s part of the city, but a part with a very specific and closely guarded identity: elegant buildings, boutique shops, arty vibes. Perched close to the famous supension bridge, it manages to be both the most Bristoly bit of Bristol while remaining at a slightly aloof distance from the rest of the world.

Maybe this is why, until yesterday, I’d never explored the literary festival which is almost on my doorstep. ‘Almost’ being the operative word, as on this particular afternoon of worse-than-usual Bristol traffic it took me over an hour to get there, find a parking space (free! a fellow parker and myself exchanged a high five) and tramp down the leafy pavements to my journey’s end. This was a shame as I’d intended to have much more time to take in the atmosphere and look at some of the other venues or even for some window-shopping. But never mind, I was in plenty of time for the event at The Clifton Club, a spendid setting for The Magic of Historical Fiction with Essie Fox, Liz Hyder and Lizzie Pook.

The event was well-attended and took the form of a relaxed but lively discussion amongst the authors, prompted by questions from Dan, representing the local branch of Waterstones. Each author gave a quick overview of he book being discussed, all of which fell into the gothic category and mostly had some magic or supernatural element. they then responded to prompts on writing, research and the appeal of this genre, with some farther reflections on publishing and being published. The trickiest question turned out to be from an audience member who asked what book each author would like to have written, with Michel Faber’s Crimson Petal and the White and Bram Stoker’s Dracula getting most votes.

All in all this was a pleasant literary chat which whetted my appetite for a genre I don’t dabble in much and as is often the case at such things I had a lovely chat with my immediate neighbour, Louise of The Cosmic City. If ony there had been time for more questions and maybe some short readings my happiness would have been complete. Of course I may have missed something as I took off quite promptly to stomp past those tempting shops and back along the edge of the Downs in darkness.

Note to self. Come again, next year and plan it better!