I’m heading to France, to St Clementin, at the end of next month for a literary festival. The village, population of about 500 hundred people, will host loads of French and British writers including Blake Morrison and Michele Roberts. I’ll be doing a reading and a workshop on historical fiction. I’m especially pleased to be asked – not only because I am a Francophile – but because I haven’t actually been published in French. Here’s the link.
I have been invited to a couple of festivals over the years including one at Cremona in Italy, details here where, in a medieval courtyard, after a reading of my book, The Songwriter, a pianist played Bernstein and Irving Berlin on a grand piano. Later, I borrowed a bike, went for a cycle but the chain fell off. A man fixed it for me who later admitted he was a concert pianist. Ooops. The whole stay was absolutely magical.
For another festival we were picked up at the airport in Rome, driven south for a couple of hours to Valle de Comino and then taken straight to the organiser’s aunt’s cafe and fed homemade cheescake (delicious). After the readings and discussions – most of them in Italian, there was a ball in the village hall where everyone drank fruit punch, ate more cheescake and danced. It’s on this year too! Go, if you’re in the area.