This is a great piece, thanks Ali. I don't mind publicly saying how I have *agonised* over this in the last few weeks as I will be at Edinburgh in Aug. (Hope we can say Hi!) I signed the petition some time ago but with the intent of participating and making a statement because I definitely do not have the moral perfectionism to make pulling out worthwhile. But sure, divestment is ideal. And yet, I also felt a huge pressure from those around me to pull out publicly because of how it might affect my rep as a nature writer and therapist and geologist interested in extractivism etc. So I sat on it, watched, waited. And now there has been a reprieve from decision making but it doesn't feel like a victory. I just feel sad. Sad for the festivals. Sad for the state of arts funding. Sad for authors who want there to be nuance debate. Angry too actually. What I also saw, was a few big names who seemed to swing the decision now making it part of their online identity 'look what I did!' and that's troubling to me too. Leveraging action as PR will be great for high profile authors. Not so for e.g. working class authors that no one knows about but lay themselves on the line. So there is a lot of inequality here that no one speaks of. I arrive at a place where I feel deeply disappointed and everytime I try and get a handle on the right way to proceed I hear another argument. It brings out the scared child in me, who wants to hide under the covers and just write my little books in safety. I recognise this can't happen. The dream is over 🤣 xx
Agonised here too. I nearly signed but didn't like the wording at the top, so thought I'd do some research first, and the more I researched the less able I was to sign. And of course divestment is ideal - there's no way round that. And I felt pressure too, considering we both write in different ways about the environment, it seems logical, but again, it's not that easy. And please do not start me on the look what I did part of it. It's very hard to pull out of appearances, and a lot of people talking online weren't people who were ever invited to the festival, the same with the signatories, so the idea of boycotting was only ever theoretical. I can't help but think a better approach would have been to show festivals viable alternative funding models and sponsors, and have worked together with them, instead of disruption, which like you say, has just left a lot of us sad and angry, and the original leverage with BG has now been lost, so in practical terms, I'm not sure what long term good has been effected to balance the very real, lasting harm.
It's heartbreaking. I sat in therapy just crying over the pain of it all the day after it broke (take that literally if you will). Been speaking to lots of writers, Ali included, and it's just the deepest, tangled anguish, to which it feels there no answer now. Emerging authors feeling panicked at being cancelled if they didn't sign, or if they go to the festival. I got the email to sign the petition too late, but I think there's more who are willing to put their names down, especially now. I think the only comfort is that we can all meet in that space in August and pull together. It's always been a balm, this community, I feel it every year. It's just unimaginable to lose that. Xx
Oh Julie! I've cried too, so much. It feels so wild to have our cultural landscape decimated like this. We know how hard festivals work to produce what they do, and how much the benefit the community, plus the community of writers they create. A week in Wigtown alone enlivens me enough to keep going at this silly, largely solitary endeavour. I won't see it lost, basically. And regardless of what FFB say now, people DID feel pressured. Tacit pressure, community pressure, the we will be nice if you come over to our side pressure. Not to mention the work agents, publicists, editors etc incurred. I think the Scotsman letter was something pulled together very quickly, and then of course the situation shifted before it published too. I have had so many people say they'd put their names down, or make a different choice. Think it's very telling who declined to sign this year. But here's to August, and all the conversations we will have. It won't be lost. There are enough who will fight to keep it going, I'm sure of that.xx
Great piece, Ali. This constant insistence from pressure groups, or more often individuals, who coerce authors into doing what they think is right, and who are vicious in their actions when you don't, is a growing and really worrying trend. Whatever the rights and wrongs of it all and, as you say, the best anyone can say about all this is that it's complicated. We all run the risk of becoming moral absolutists and then not just book festivals, but the whole of society, will break down. It's easier for me maybe as I'm 63 and don't much give a shit – I'm so over doing what everyone tells me to – but I think it's so important for writers who are concerned about this kind of behaviour, and who don't want to sign the constant stream of letters of outrage, to stick together and support each other. I'm up for supportive emails with anyone who wants a shoulder to cry on or just someone to whine at!
Really well written, Ali. I'm so glad you shared this. Thank you for your time and energy in saying so eloquently what many of us struggle to voice. I sincerely hope this isn't the end for festivals who do so much for authors, communities, lost souls. Like you, I didn't know these places existed, despite being a voracious bookworm as a kid. When I moved to Edinburgh in 2009, I spent almost every single day at the book festival, attended a lot of children's writing workshops, met my heroes - Judith Kerr, Oliver Jeffers, Catherine Raynor, Debi Gliori, and also a fair few art directors and editors - who all asked me about what I wanted to write and told me to keep going. I went back every single year, eventually as a press reviewer, then an access consultant, and finally as an author launching my work into the world on the main stage in 2022. The only thing left is to be there with my YA novel and my memoir. The thought of not being able to have their support through that is unthinkable. We have to join hands now, and speak together xx
This is a great piece, thanks Ali. I don't mind publicly saying how I have *agonised* over this in the last few weeks as I will be at Edinburgh in Aug. (Hope we can say Hi!) I signed the petition some time ago but with the intent of participating and making a statement because I definitely do not have the moral perfectionism to make pulling out worthwhile. But sure, divestment is ideal. And yet, I also felt a huge pressure from those around me to pull out publicly because of how it might affect my rep as a nature writer and therapist and geologist interested in extractivism etc. So I sat on it, watched, waited. And now there has been a reprieve from decision making but it doesn't feel like a victory. I just feel sad. Sad for the festivals. Sad for the state of arts funding. Sad for authors who want there to be nuance debate. Angry too actually. What I also saw, was a few big names who seemed to swing the decision now making it part of their online identity 'look what I did!' and that's troubling to me too. Leveraging action as PR will be great for high profile authors. Not so for e.g. working class authors that no one knows about but lay themselves on the line. So there is a lot of inequality here that no one speaks of. I arrive at a place where I feel deeply disappointed and everytime I try and get a handle on the right way to proceed I hear another argument. It brings out the scared child in me, who wants to hide under the covers and just write my little books in safety. I recognise this can't happen. The dream is over 🤣 xx
Agonised here too. I nearly signed but didn't like the wording at the top, so thought I'd do some research first, and the more I researched the less able I was to sign. And of course divestment is ideal - there's no way round that. And I felt pressure too, considering we both write in different ways about the environment, it seems logical, but again, it's not that easy. And please do not start me on the look what I did part of it. It's very hard to pull out of appearances, and a lot of people talking online weren't people who were ever invited to the festival, the same with the signatories, so the idea of boycotting was only ever theoretical. I can't help but think a better approach would have been to show festivals viable alternative funding models and sponsors, and have worked together with them, instead of disruption, which like you say, has just left a lot of us sad and angry, and the original leverage with BG has now been lost, so in practical terms, I'm not sure what long term good has been effected to balance the very real, lasting harm.
It's heartbreaking. I sat in therapy just crying over the pain of it all the day after it broke (take that literally if you will). Been speaking to lots of writers, Ali included, and it's just the deepest, tangled anguish, to which it feels there no answer now. Emerging authors feeling panicked at being cancelled if they didn't sign, or if they go to the festival. I got the email to sign the petition too late, but I think there's more who are willing to put their names down, especially now. I think the only comfort is that we can all meet in that space in August and pull together. It's always been a balm, this community, I feel it every year. It's just unimaginable to lose that. Xx
Oh Julie! I've cried too, so much. It feels so wild to have our cultural landscape decimated like this. We know how hard festivals work to produce what they do, and how much the benefit the community, plus the community of writers they create. A week in Wigtown alone enlivens me enough to keep going at this silly, largely solitary endeavour. I won't see it lost, basically. And regardless of what FFB say now, people DID feel pressured. Tacit pressure, community pressure, the we will be nice if you come over to our side pressure. Not to mention the work agents, publicists, editors etc incurred. I think the Scotsman letter was something pulled together very quickly, and then of course the situation shifted before it published too. I have had so many people say they'd put their names down, or make a different choice. Think it's very telling who declined to sign this year. But here's to August, and all the conversations we will have. It won't be lost. There are enough who will fight to keep it going, I'm sure of that.xx
So true ❤️💯
Great piece, Ali. This constant insistence from pressure groups, or more often individuals, who coerce authors into doing what they think is right, and who are vicious in their actions when you don't, is a growing and really worrying trend. Whatever the rights and wrongs of it all and, as you say, the best anyone can say about all this is that it's complicated. We all run the risk of becoming moral absolutists and then not just book festivals, but the whole of society, will break down. It's easier for me maybe as I'm 63 and don't much give a shit – I'm so over doing what everyone tells me to – but I think it's so important for writers who are concerned about this kind of behaviour, and who don't want to sign the constant stream of letters of outrage, to stick together and support each other. I'm up for supportive emails with anyone who wants a shoulder to cry on or just someone to whine at!
Really well written, Ali. I'm so glad you shared this. Thank you for your time and energy in saying so eloquently what many of us struggle to voice. I sincerely hope this isn't the end for festivals who do so much for authors, communities, lost souls. Like you, I didn't know these places existed, despite being a voracious bookworm as a kid. When I moved to Edinburgh in 2009, I spent almost every single day at the book festival, attended a lot of children's writing workshops, met my heroes - Judith Kerr, Oliver Jeffers, Catherine Raynor, Debi Gliori, and also a fair few art directors and editors - who all asked me about what I wanted to write and told me to keep going. I went back every single year, eventually as a press reviewer, then an access consultant, and finally as an author launching my work into the world on the main stage in 2022. The only thing left is to be there with my YA novel and my memoir. The thought of not being able to have their support through that is unthinkable. We have to join hands now, and speak together xx