Who would have thought that a day out in Havant could be so exciting?
Not only did I appear twice at the literary festival, I also got accused of being in a pornographic play, got locked into an arts centre and visited the best place in Havant to survive a zombie invasion.
I’ll start with the zombies. The Bunker, an improbably friendly and quintessential dinky comic/book shop is the place to survive them. I felt like I was stepping into an episode of The Big Bang Theory entering that shop, but with much nicer characters.
Zombies location sorted, I then saw three plays being performed in three pubs – certainly a crawl with a difference (but with an event looming I wasn’t able to celebrate with alcohol).
At the last pub, however, I wished I’d had a pint to dump on a punter’s head. A music channel played on the TV with the videos featuring barely-dressed women gyrating in see-through undies, and reflecting each other in their oh-so-shiny red lips.
No wonder the drunken man had licentious deeds on his mind when he asked me if I was in the next play and if it was to be pornographic.
But it did make me wonder how thick his beer goggles were, being as my age and size don’t exactly make me prime material, I would have thought.
And rest assured, all the actors were fully clothed.
I’ve spoken at book festivals and other events before, but never a ‘literary’ one. And as I was appearing as part of a panel discussion on ‘the book is dead’, I found it rather daunting.
Being writerly, I often find that other people pull out all their best literary references and space them into conversations the same way that I space in expletives – all for extra effect.
Quotes tend to baffle me as I’m not the kind to remember long verses. But I’m very adept at smiling and nodding and making humorous agreement noises in all the right places.
None of that was going to help me, though, when I came out of the loos to discover that I’d been locked in the venue afterwards. There were just expletives until I was rescued.