On the Belfast Literary Scene

By Hanna Nielson, Editor in Chief

Last month, I was invited to attend the press breakfast prelaunch for upcoming Crescent Arts Centre’s 2025 Belfast Book Festival (from 5-12 June).

It was delightful to receive the invite (thanks, Miriam Morris) and to meet & chat to the other attendees. So many interesting conversations sprang up, both before and after the engaging presentation by Chief Executive Sophie Hayles that it was clear Belfast’s literary scene is buzzing - with a diversity of voices, new and established, and everyone keen to know what everyone else is doing.

The press release with all the details you could want is here - link.

Having just taken part in a panel discussion about indie publishing in the UK (hosted of University of the Arts London, link here), I’d heard an earful of about how the literary scene in London and immediate surrounding areas is increasingly harder to access, with more entrenched hierarchies, and less face-to-face contact than ever before.

Those in London seem not to want to know anyone not in London. (Granted, everyone describes London that way - going all the way back to Charles Dickens.) Nevertheless, I had to quietly thank the literary gods that I live in Belfast.

In spite of cuts to arts funding, and the fact Northern Ireland receives the least amount compared to other UK regions & Ireland, there are any number of workshops, writers groups, poetry readings, book signings, and so much more.

Having studied at the Iowa Writers’s Workshop in the US (which at the time had a small, highly exclusive literary scene) and University of Leeds (which had next to none when I graduated and I was urged to move to London), I am continually grateful for my connection to Belfast - a city I’ve called home off and on for twenty years. The arts scene here is quite literally accessed by just ‘showing up.’

In starting The Belfast Review back in 2023 (after living in Los Angeles for years as an documentary filmmaker), I was helpfully reminded that I needed to get back into the ‘Norn Irish’ way of doing things - just show up and chat to people. That was the only way to be taken seriously and seen as established. I wish my schedule allowed more of it, but every event I go to means running into at least a couple familiar faces.

The connections that I have, and editorial clients I work with, all come from personal referrals - from folks I’ve met locally (or virtually, having worked with or mentored them through The Belfast Review). It’s a delight working with writers from Northern Ireland - and a privilege to give new voices the poise and confidence they need on their way to success.

Showing up and chatting, or staying on for the inevitable ‘pints after’ (not that you have to drink), allows a kind of informal meeting of minds, hearing about upcoming projects, putting faces to names, sharing the universal struggles of writing & publishing, as well as a chance to drop a few words about who you are and what you’re working on.

In my life, I’ve lived in various cities and countries, and come into contact with many creative ‘scenes’ - and I have to say that the norm is gatekeeping, whether through cost, exclusivity, or an almost impenetrable hierarchy of who’s-who.

Last year, I was torn between visiting another international book festival versus the Belfast Book Festival until I saw the prices. I’d have to be minted to attend more than one authors panel in the other festival (plus travel expenses) - whereas in Belfast, the Crescent Arts Centre runs the festival on a ‘pay what you can’ basis - meaning students and working writers can afford to attend events throughout the week and still have enough to buy signed copies of the latest books from their favourite authors.

Writing is a solitary art form, to a point. Writers need community - both professionally and as personal enrichment. The literary community desperately needs diversity, and to reflect the community in which its based. It’s a give and take, a two-way street, a dialogue.

As someone who works as a freelance editor, runs a magazine, and still aspires to publish a novel (with two in the querying trenches), I’m far from minted. The bin men earn steadier pay cheques than I do. Moving to the nearest publishing metropolis, London, New York, is out of reach financially - and would mean sacrificing quality of life (which is essential to creatives) just to pay the rent.

Historically, writers and artists have always flocked to affordable areas - and as a result, the ‘scene’ moved with them. As a creative you must steal time away from wage work and give it, for free, to your art. The compromise and sacrifice as part of the lifestyle. It’s not a guaranteed return on investment. And even ‘making it big’ especially in the literary world only means that you’re more visible and more in demand, not necessarily that you’re paid more. Yet the visibility is important, enabling income from speaking engagements and teaching workshops - which is often times more stable than the next book deal.

In any case, there’s much to look forward to in the upcoming Belfast Book Festival - with such a variety of speakers covering nearly every topic, genre, and age group. And I feel very lucky to live in a city where it’s all happening.