They pour through little more than a garden gate,
A magic portal into a world of wizardry,
The hope of leaving far behind, the drudgery
Of life in offices painted in a clinical white,
Computer buzzing faintly, like a constant headache
That floats away within that field of tents,
Filled with people who can conjure lives and lands
That help us drift away at any time, but here,
Here is where we really lose ourselves, among the books,
The writers’ talks and poetry slams and signings by
Those mythical figures, while we stand gibbering,
Fangirling like they belong to a boyband we once loved,
Whose faces adorned our teenage walls, but now,
It’s the literary festival that sets our heart alight.
The Harrogate book festival started today and as far as I am aware, it is the first literary festival in the UK in quite some time. I am seeing lots of posts on Twitter from people who are there and I am just a little bit jealous.
I have never been to a literary festival and it is an experience that I am eager to have. We have some fabulous festivals in this country and it’s only since COVID has wiped them all out for a year that I’ve realised how important it is to get out and have these adventures.
Besides, now that I’m an English teacher, I can always go along for free and dress it up as a great school trip that will enhance the knowledge of my students!