I’m just back from the Stockholm Writers Festival 2025, three packed days at the Swedish National History Museum. This is my attempt to capture the experience before the details blur.
Thursday to Friday – Arrival
I arrived in Stockholm from Gothenburg on Thursday afternoon and checked into my hostel at Zinkensdamm. Not as glamorous as last year’s boutique hotel, but comfortable enough. I arrived at the same time as a large group of German schoolchildren, who were, thankfully, staying in another wing. (Though our paths crossed in the breakfast room on Friday morning.)
The festival began – for me – at 1 o’clock on the Friday. I’d registered for an intensive workshop with Mike Gayle, the bestselling author of nineteen novels. “Lad lit” apparently. No, I’d never heard of it before either. It was a lively start, with a mix of short writing exercises and a group brainstorming that set everyone talking.
Later, Catherine Pettersson, the Festival’s founder and driving force welcomed us. (She is what Swedes call the eldsjäl, literally the “fire soul”, of the festival.) The plenum space, as last year, was the museum’s Baroque Hall. A magnificent venue under a high, painted ceiling. We learned the results of the Festival’s First Five Pages Award and two of the winners were introduced. We learned a little about facial reconstruction in a lecture from Swedish archaeologist and forensic artist Oscar Nilsson. (Fascinating.) We took part in a game of networking bingo, a clever icebreaker designed to encourage us to talk and collect contact details for 25 new people. I didn’t make the 25, but I did pick up seven new Instagram contacts.
I ended the day over dinner with sci-fi author Chris Baker (who writes as CJ Arthur) before taking myself back to my hostel room.
Saturday – Poetry, Prose, and Agents
My Saturday began with a poetry workshop led by Mirjam Frosth. We experimented with blackout poetry, creating poems from existing texts. Mine was … cryptic, let’s say. But the exercise was fun.
At lunch I bonded with fellow attendees over our shared lactose intolerance. One of those small, human details that makes festivals so memorable.
After lunch I browsed the book stall and bought The Museum of Ordinary People by Mike Gayle. Mike had mentioned this book in particular during his intensive the day before. I was able to get a signature from the author, and even chat a little. Mike comes from Birmingham and was about 12 years old when I was myself in the city as a 23 year-old teaching student. We establish that I had not, in fact, taught him. I found this a relief. (I don’t look back on my teacher training experience with unalloyed pleasure.)
Literary Agents
In the afternoon the conference moderator, Paul Rapacioli interviewed Sophie Austin, author of The Lamplighter’s Bookshop. She shared how she had found her agent at the 2019 Festival, but only her fourth manuscript with that agent finally sold. It was good to know the agent stuck with her for all that time, and eventually came up trumps. It must have helped Sophie too, knowing that she had someone rooting for her despite the rejection of one manuscript after another.
Later came the moment I’d been looking forward to and dreading: my own agent meeting. This was with John Baker of Bell Lomax Morton Literary. My only previous experience of pitching to an agent, back at the 2018 Festival, was an unmitigated disaster. This time I managed to stay calm – mostly – and pitched my science-fiction novel Luce in New Lundon. To my relief, the meeting went very well. John has asked me to send him the first three chapters, once I’m happy with the manuscript. That felt like a real step forward.
I celebrated with champagne and beer (not simultaneously), returning to the hostel tired but happy.
Sunday – Memoir and Narrative voice
My Sunday morning began with a seminar with Irish author Miriam Mulcahy. She is the author of This Is My Sea, a memoir exploring death, grief and the healing power of sea bathing. (I’m about half way through reading it now.) Though focused on memoir, much of her advice I thought was applicable to fiction too. It gave me plenty to think about.
In the afternoon Sophie Austin returned with a session on the authorial and the narrative voice in historical fiction. The distinction between the two, and how to use them effectively, was something I’d not considered deeply before. As with Miriam’s seminar, I felt there was a lot of what Sophie had to say that was applicable more widely. I could see how it might be relevant to writers of SF, for example.
At lunch I chatted with fellow YouTuber Natalie Forslind about cameras and interviews. And about the difficulties of filming solo for YouTube.
Literary Idol
The festival ended with the now well established Literary Idol session. In this, anonymous first pages are read aloud for one minute to the audience and three agents. The agents are tasked with raising a hand when the text reaches a point they would probably stop reading, had it come across their desk. If two of the agents raise a hand, the reading stops. Otherwise the reader carries on to the chime of an electronic stopwatch. When the reading stops, the agents say why they would stop reading it at the point they raised their hands, or find something positive to say about the piece.
Some years this feedback has been bruising, but this time I felt the mood was generous. And I’m not just saying that because my own page, when read, made it past the one-minute mark with no hands raised. It was described as “cinematic” – something I can live with, no question. A year ago my submission was cut off after fifteen seconds and criticised as boring. That stung, but it pushed me to reorder my chapters. Hearing applause this year was sweet. Of course it was anonymous and I didn’t brag at the time (though my face felt hot).
l. to r.: John Baker (Bell Lomax Morton), Abi Fellows (DHH), Jemima Forrester (David Higham)
Reflections
All in all, the 2025 Festival was a great experience. It was energising, challenging, and full of encounters, some of which I’ll carry forward. I came away with new contacts, new books, fresh insights, and, most encouragingly, an agent’s request to see more of my work.
The organisers looked exhausted at the end – though happy. I’m told they’ve already started planning the 2026 Festival.
If you’re thinking of coming, then do! Maybe I’ll see you there.
Note: This is a third take on the festival. In conjunction with this blog post, I am also publishing two videos on my YouTube Channel. One is a video diary that runs to 14½ minutes and covers much of the same ground as the above. (Though with moving pictures.) The other is a discussion of four of the most frequent reasons writer friends share about why they don’t go to writers festivals. I think they are missing out, and this video explains why!
Here is my YouTube Channel: @JohnDudleyAuthor
