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Reflections on a literary festival
I’ve been a published author for 28 years, worked in publishing for 34. That’s all ‘day job’ stuff, though: English and German coursebooks for upper secondary level.
As an author of fiction for adults, I’m a noob. ‘Steve Fendt’ the fictional author of fiction is three years old: a toddler.
Moreover, the technology and the culture of contemporary book publishing are very different to what I learned about in my postgrad publishing course, back in 1990 when the world was young. The new author today has far more possibilities to explore, far more channels to consider for getting their work ‘out there’ to the reading public.
With this in mind, the literary festival with podium discussions and book signings may seem an anachronism, an arcane gatekeeper-fest for the chattering classes.
That’s probably how I viewed them, without articulating the thought until just now. This week, I decided it was time to conquer my reluctance and actually attend one.
The Sorrento Writers Festival down at the picturesque tip of Melbourne’s Mornington Peninsula is in its second year. It’s only a few weeks before the much larger Melbourne Writers Festival.
Having opinions is all very well, I thought, but they should be based on…
