Why Literary Festivals Matter More Than Ever

It’s been a busy period for me, finishing my second book, Poole of Honour, but also working at the Guernsey Literary Festival, which took place last month. Now that the dust has settled, I find myself wanting to pause and reflect.

More Than Just an Event

The UK literary festival season is in full swing. From Hay-on-Wye to the smallest town hall readings, spring and early summer bring a flowering of events, where books move from the solitary to the shared. It's one of my favourite times of year. And in 2026, with the National Year of Reading shining a light on the joy and importance of books for all ages and backgrounds, it feels a particularly good moment to reflect on what these festivals are actually for.

When people hear "literary festival," they often picture a marquee, a famous face and a queue for book signings. And yes, that's part of it. There's real joy in hearing someone whose work has moved you speak about it in their own words. But what I've come to understand, both as a novelist and as someone involved in the literary festival world, is that these events do something far more important. When they're done well, they take that sense of community and carry it beyond just the people who can afford a ticket.

Literature Belongs to Everyone

The best literary festivals carry out work away from the main stage, for example, author visits to care homes, hospitals and prisons; and events for children in schools.

For those who may not be able to travel to the main festival, who may feel that cultural life is not available to them, a conversation about a book – ideas, other lives, imagination – is no small matter.

The same is true in schools. When a child meets a writer for the first time, enters a competition, receives a signed book – it might be the first time anyone has suggested that writing is something they could do.

The Conversation That Carries On

Reading a book is, by its nature, a solitary experience. That intimacy is precious, but it can also be isolating. You finish something that has shaken or delighted you – or made you see the world differently – and there's nowhere to share that feeling.

Literary festivals – and book clubs to a certain extent – are where that feeling finds a home. They put people in the same room who might never otherwise meet, united by nothing more than a shared love of stories. And from that, something genuinely unexpected can grow.

Small Festivals, Big Impact

There's a particular intimacy to the smaller festivals that I think gets undervalued. You might find yourself having a proper conversation with a speaker over lunch, or sitting in a room of fifty people watching an author genuinely moved by a question from the audience – delighted that someone understands their work.

Literary festivals exist because people believe that books are worth gathering around; that ideas deserve to be spoken out loud as well as read in private; that literature isn't a luxury – it's for everyone. They aren’t just for the few – they’re for the community.