The Homecoming – Guided back to Coventry

The Call

I wasn’t expecting to present my work in Coventry again. I had left for Southport in 2010, and that chapter had seemed closed.

Charterhouse is one of Coventry’s newest heritage venues, yet one of its oldest places: a former monastery of remarkable historic and spiritual significance. Of all the sites we explored as Triangle Theatre when based in Coventry, this one escaped us.  But a return with my books under the banner of the Coventry Festival of Books recently provided a unique experience of its potential.

I had an inkling this place mattered particularly because on one visit as a ‘tourist’ last year I had bumped into an old colleague, a curator from Triangle’s Herbert Museum days (2000-2010).

And then, during a walking trip earlier this year with family and friends, one of whom works as a volunteer at Charterhouse, I had come across a leaflet for the upcoming book festival. I’d put the leaflet away for too long and when I went back to it realised they were fully booked for author slots. I could hear Mick, the Charterhouse volunteer’s words in my ear throughout the spring: “You should try to get in there; they’re even taking performances now.”

All the signs were there.

I had to go back. I must attend the Book Festival as an exhibitor.

So I held out for a cancellation, even though the gig seemed to have slipped through my fingers.

Then, just over a week before the event, an email arrived saying the waiting list had reopened. Did I want to attend? The answer wasn’t easy until the hire was at a price I could afford without losing too much if I sold nothing. I agreed on the hire for a table indoors.

I meticulously planned for the event just as I had for the most recent Literary Escape in Waterloo, Sefton earlier this year. However, to avoid disappointment in running at a loss, I decided to measure success through conversations, reconnections and relationships rather than book sales.

The trip down

The weekend came fast. We had booked in at Coundon Lodge, a former silk weaver’s residence that had later been a barrister’s home, a care home and finally a guesthouse. We’d booked the night before to be ready for the early start. Our departure had been delayed by a family emergency, and motorway disruption pushed us onto the country roads. Nevertheless, the country route and the arrival in a more rural part of Coventry felt like home from home, since where we now live is pretty, green and beautiful.  I wondered why I hadn’t made more of the Coundon/Allesley side of Coventry when I had lived there.

It was the second heatwave of the summer and on arrival I was in two minds about being indoors upstairs in Charterhouse, so we opted for a table in the walled garden under a large gazebo with other authors.

Preparing my stall

Encounters with advocates

It proved to be a wonderful event for me. I felt confident in a place I know even though the venue was new to me.

Robin Johnson, a colleague and collaborator during the Herbert days, came along, as did Roger Vaughan, a key champion for Triangle’s work between 2000 and 2010. Roger bought all three books. Then, by chance, Wendy Wardle was there too. She was  the very first advocate for my work back in 1989 through the Coventry Library Service. I felt grateful that she remembered that initial workshop based around storytelling with objects from my performance Omega and the Golden Water.

With children

A mother of one of The Little Herberts from 2001 came and made herself known. I thought about her son and what he taught us about how children learn and create differently. A little girl named Cece from Nuneaton allowed me to tell her the Redhair and Daffodil Friend story in summary and walk her through the book. Then she asked her mum if she could buy a copy. Her mum said it was too expensive so we negotiated down to £8 because I felt she should have a copy.

With family

My brother came along with his friend and also bought a book.

With others

A woman I didn’t know bought a gift bundle, which made the day feel wider than a reunion.

I had several really good conversations with people about writing, reading, researching, commissioning illustrators, creativity and so on.  I felt my confidence returning because I was on home territory. By the end of the day, it wasn’t the number of books sold that mattered most, though that was encouraging. It was the sense that the work still belonged.

I travelled back to Southport with a happy heart, carrying the quiet reassurance that the work still belonged. The journey home through the urban landscape of the M6 gave me time to reflect. I realised that what I had experienced wasn’t simply a successful book event. It was a reminder that the books are now part of a much longer creative life. The conversations, old friendships, unexpected reunions and new readers are part of the same story. Coventry, unexpectedly, still had a place for me and perhaps I still had a place within Coventry’s creative life.

The Mayor of Coventry visits my stall