Writing has always been a lonely business, publishing a cruel one. We aspiring novelists know that better than anyone. (Which of us hasn’t scrolled through endless Famous Writers Who Got Rejected blog posts, taking a perverse sort of pride in receiving more No Thank Yous than William Golding and J.K. Rowling combined?) Given the sheer number of query letters literary agents are swamped with every week, how is our literary potential — assuming, of course, that we have any — ever to be spotted?
These days, though, there’s an even greater obstacle in our path: left-leaning gatekeepers. And when I say leaning, I mean tumbling. For those of us who don’t subscribe to the latest ideological fads, the chances of seeing our books in the hands of readers who don’t share our name or flat have grown depressingly slim.
When researching agents and publishers for my children’s book, for instance, I found very few who did not explicitly ask for stories by or at least featuring disabled, neurodivergent, LGBTQ+, ethnically diverse or feminist voices. If only I’d penned a middle-grade novel about two feisty trans-girls of Nigerian extraction on their first trip to the moon in a wheelchair. Whether masterly or not, my own manuscript, with its podgy, posh, wannabe-centurion narrator, was bound to be dismissed out of hand for its lack of “diversity”. It’s difficult not to become disheartened.
I was therefore delighted when earlier this year The New Culture Forum (NCF) announced its first Literary Festival. It promised aspiring authors both practical guidance and the presence of publishers. Announcing the festival on GB News, the director and founder Peter Whittle said, quite rightly, that there would be no point to it unless it helped non-woke writers to get published: ‘it can’t just be a talking shop.’
Imagine my disappointment when, on the 23rd and 24th of May, I found myself in the Emmanuel Centre sitting through just that: a talking shop. The festival began with a lecture from Matt Goodwin about the captured world of academia: extremely left-leaning academics; self-censorship amongst students and professors; ideological purity tests … Interesting enough — if you’ve never heard it before. The trouble was, I very much had. (In that very building, in fact, at a NatCon conference two years previously …)
What, I kept wondering, did any of it have to do with publishing novels? Next came Lionel Shriver. She, at least, did talk about novels — but exclusively her own. We were given no serious writing or publishing tips, and satirical novelists not named Lionel Shriver received nothing but demoralisation. In her view, satirical non-woke novels simply wouldn’t get published these days without a famous name like hers. But if that were so, why had the NCF bothered organising the festival in the first place?
As far as I could tell, there wasn’t a single fiction publisher present the entire weekend. (I can’t be sure because my friends and I left early on the second day, utterly frustrated.) The only agent there, Matthew Hamilton, specialises in non-fiction. He, for his part, gave us a long lecture on the dire state of publishing. Apparently, publishers are overwhelmingly left-wing (Who would have guessed?) and it’s exceedingly difficult for dissenting voices to get published (unless they’re called Douglas Murray, naturally). So, again, what was the point of this festival?
A glance around the hall soon answered that question. Most attendees were older, many retired, and all were keen to get together and tut-tut about the woke. (Nothing wrong with that, of course, so long as that’s what the organisers advertised.) As I overheard one grey-headed festival goer say to another in the Pret next door: “It’s very reassuring listening to such sound speakers.” Now I’m not calling into question the soundness of the speakers: they made many important points. Yet we were treated to hours of sound people agreeing that organising a literary festival for aspiring non-woke writers is vital, when I, as an aspiring non-woke writer, was left wishing that they had!
I happen to think that a great deal can be done, even with relatively few resources and publishing contacts
I don’t wish this article to make the same mistake, to be just another rant that goes nowhere. I happen to think that a great deal can be done, even with relatively few resources and publishing contacts. After the festival, I sent the NCF several suggestions for next year, as well as ideas for how an organisation like theirs might cultivate a non-woke literary renaissance. Having received no reply, I would like to share these ideas. My hope is that an organisation like the NCF will implement some of them.
Failing that, we aspiring writers must take matters into our own hands and organise our own festival. This would be a truly hands-on event, offering concrete advice, thought-provoking discussions related to writing and pitching literature, and networking opportunities. (If you would like to be involved — as an attendee, speaker, organiser, or donor — please get in touch at: [email protected]).
Without further ado, here are my initial ideas:
- Talks and workshops offering practical guidance, including:
— “Speaking liberal”
The most interesting part of the festival was when Matthew Hamilton mentioned a publisher who was very good at ‘speaking liberal’ and getting non-woke/conservative projects past progressive gatekeepers. He or someone similar could run workshops on how to make your query letter/ book proposal sound palatable to progressive types without betraying your artistic integrity.
— Self-publishing (Pros/Cons; a how-to guide from self-published authors)
— Self-editing (not censoring!) tips
— Dealing with rejection, and how to tell whether it’s your beliefs putting off critics, or the quality of your writing
— Dangers of Satire: (when) do anti-woke novels become as hectoring as woke ones? (What’s the purpose of Art? Art for Art’s sake? Escapist/realist/political fiction?)
— Did Anthony Trollope have it easier? Writing in an age of distraction — steps to take as a young writer on a tight budget (when a fancy retreat isn’t an option)
- Writing competition in advance of festival (also good publicity and fundraiser as there’d be a modest entry fee), plus live readings/performances
The best 10 or 20 entries (poems, short stories or novel/memoir/play extracts) could be published in an anthology. The first prize could be a 30-minute conversation with an agent/publisher/author. The runners-up could perform an extract at the festival. (Alternatively, professional actors/comedians could be asked. They needn’t be huge stars. In fact, it’d be lovely to give aspiring non-woke actors a chance, too. I know a few of those.)
- Bookable 1-to-1 slots with agents/publishers/authors:
Festival goers could (for a reasonable sum) book a slot during the festival to discuss a section of their work/practice pitching to an agent/publisher.
- Encourage writing (and reading) communities:
All those writing in a particular genre would be invited to group together in a break-out space and discuss their works-in-progress. That way they could find beta (non-professional) readers, hone their craft and befriend fellow writers.
- Raffle (donations welcome):
Prizes might include: Writers’ Retreat (away from Wi-Fi and other distractions); London Library Membership for writers of historical fiction; 1-to-1 discussions with a publisher/agent/author; and beautiful notebooks and stationery.
- Young writers’ fellowship
Admittedly, this last suggestion goes beyond a single festival. Without the backing of an organisation like the NCF, it might be too ambitious.
Following an application process (submitted work and interviews to demonstrate literary potential and commitment), the chosen writers would meet regularly to discuss each other’s works-in-progress. They would receive regular mentoring and help each other by sharing their contacts and promoting each others’ work. (It could combine elements of initiatives like The London Library’s Emerging Writers Programme and The Prosperity Institute’s Edington Fellowship — only, for conservative/ non-woke writers of fiction.)
At the very least, we could set up an international WRITERS HELPING WRITERS database of more open-minded publishers/agents and encourage others to keep adding to it.
Let’s not just talk about organising a literary festival; let’s make it happen!
