Three weeks ago, I attended my first ever London Book Fair. If you’re curious about your first time going, are a seasoned visitor wanting to laugh at my childlike musings, or are simply interested in my experience, please read on.  

Stepping through the doors of the Olympia that Tuesday morning unveiled a world of publishing I’d never before encountered – where the sheer scale of the commercial aspect astounded me slightly and I was literally confronted with the rush of “huh.. This is a Business”. Rights and contracts, sales and acquisitions – all previously abstract ideas learned in lectures and read about in Bookseller articles, became concrete in the expanse of endless white and coloured booths. They seemed to expand forever throughout the bright and boundless Olympia, each one buzzing with a different conversation, a tangible representation of an industry far bigger than I’d ever imagined.  

 Suddenly it wasn’t just about the books we love and cherish, swapped between friends, borrowed from libraries and read alone late into the night. It was about foreign rights negotiations, digital marketing trends, and high stakes commercial deals. As a Publishing student – aka the bottom of the food chain – I knew my primary focus this year was to observe, listen, and if I was lucky, snatch a moment (or a tote bag) from a publishing professional that would spare me two minutes. Being around such high achieving and passionate people was overwhelming yes, but it gives me something to strive for at least.

The highlight of my time in London were the seminars I attended, and I attended so many over the three days that I left with my brain fizzing with words of wisdom, advice, sales data, debates and panel discussions from some of the best in the industry. The black Tesco notebook I’d purchased right before the event, now filled with 50 odd pages of my frantic looping scribbles became my lifeline those few days, as I clung to every word.  

Some of my favorite panel discussions reflected conversations we have had in tutorials, such as one with The English Pen chairing a discussion surrounding the ethics of funding literary festivals. The discussion surrounding the women’s Prize, chaired by Claire Shanahan and joined by writers Chloe Timms and Kit de Waal still sticks vividly in my mind as I write this blog three weeks on. The speakers discussed the lack of opportunities for writers and publishers outside of London, starting your writing career later in life, and the pressure of what writers are ‘expected’ to write based on their background. The gender inequality within the industry was a notorious point of discussion; the statistic that the gender pay gap in publishing is 36% between men and women is still burned in the back of my eyelids.  

This talk was inspiring, uplifting and you could feel the energy of the women in the room bouncing off each other. I say women, because despite the number of businessmen at the Fair, all but three of them had managed to find themselves at this talk (the rest must’ve gotten lost along the way). While this realisation disappointed me, this was the last talk I had attended, and as the tram pulled up outside Olympia Station it left me with a lot to contemplate about who we are targeting these discussions to, as I left this microcosm of the publishing world that had grown to be quite familiar to me over the three days.  

The publishing world is constantly evolving, and events like The London Book Fair serve as powerful reminders of the innovation and collaboration that make it thrive. The future of publishing is unpredictable, and I’m excited to see where it leads next. See you next year, London!