The Big Question: What's behind the rise in literary festivals, and what's their purpose?

Why are we asking this now?

The 21st Hay Literary Festival is in full swing this week at Hay-on-Wye. Despite the awful weather, around 80,000 book lovers have streamed into the small town on the Welsh borders to see their favourite authors speak. Since 1988, the event has become an essential feature of the cultural calendar, and has spawned an entire sub-industry of the book trade; nowadays, it seems every town with a reading population is required to host some kind of annual books-based shindig.

What's behind Hay's association with books?

Related articles

• I'm going to make a full recovery, says Monty Don
• John Walsh: Tales from Hay-on-Wye
• Search the news archive for more stories

A tiny town in the wet Welsh hills may seem an odd venue for one of the world's most popular literary get-togethers, but Hay is home to over 30 second-hand bookshops. It began when Richard Booth, the self-crowned "King of Hay" opened the first, Richard Booth's Bookshop, in 1961.

The festival was founded in 1988 by Peter Florence and his father Norman, with the help of just six volunteers. In 1989, the Florences put Hay on the map by persuading Arthur Miller to attend. In 2001, Bill Clinton turned up to publicise his autobiography and, with his masterful grasp of the soundbite, named the festival "The Woodstock of the Mind". Since then, the event has been unmissable for authors, publishers and other assorted literary types, exploiting the cult of the author to great effect.

This year, Salman Rushdie and Ian McEwan are joined on the Hay line-up by writers from other areas of public life, particularly politics. Cherie Blair, John Prescott and Lord Levy are plugging memoirs, while Clinton's predecessor Jimmy Carter topped the bill.

Has Hay inspired other festivals?

Peter Florence tried to start a similar event in London without much success: the Word Festival lasted just four years (the London Literature Festival is only in its second year). Literary London would rather decamp to Wales than compete with the capital's distractions. Hence the proliferation of provincial festivals – Cheltenham, Gloucestershire, Aldeburgh, Suffolk, and Cornwall's Port Eliot.

Though the Cheltenham Literature Festival may be more established (it was founded in 1949), Hay has attracted a more influential London audience, giving the lit-fest movement a touch of glamour. As individual bookshops host fewer author events, dedicated literary festivals are an increasingly important forum for introducing audiences to authors.

The phenomenon is not confined to the UK. The internet has turned the books trade into a global concern. The Galle Literary Festival, held at a World Heritage Site in Sri Lanka, this year attracted William Dalrymple, Vikram Seth and Gore Vidal. Hay boasts seven international satellites, including two in Spain and one in Cartagena, Colombia.

What happens at a literary festival?

Clinton's Woodstock comparison wasn't far off, which is why the Hay organisers have adopted it as their advertising slogan. Like a music festival, Hay's non-stop talks and readings take place in half a dozen tents dotted around the festival site, catering to crowds from nine in the morning to eleven at night. There's a big festival bookstore to complement the town's 30 or more permanent booksellers, and a café. More intrepid audience members see Hay as an intellectual Glastonbury and bravely pitch tents in the fields outside town. There are comedy acts and film showings, too, for those who tire of the written word. Other such festivals follow a similar format, though few can match Hay's line-up of authors.

Who goes to them?

You might think Hay's audiences would be made up mostly of media types and publishers, but in fact 70,000 of the 80,000-strong crowd are paying punters. Many at Hay are London literary scenesters, yes, but each of the festivals has a distinctive appeal. Cheltenham, for instance, attracts more traditional readers from Middle England, and has a smaller geographical catchment than Hay, catering mostly to the South West. The Port Eliot festival, meanwhile, attracts a more youthful, hip group of lit-lovers to the Cornish coast.

Do authors enjoy it?

Hell, yes. It's a big old literary love-in. Like their audiences, the authors can spend time with their friends and colleagues, rent a house in the nearby countryside and generally make a weekend of it. John Mortimer has written of the joy of literary festivals for the often solitary writer: "Sold as an opportunity for the audience to meet the writer, they afford the writer a rare opportunity of meeting the audience, too."

When an author has a book out, they are generally expected to do the rounds of all the big festivals in order to generate press and show goodwill towards their readership. At Hay, the prospect of being interviewed by the delightful Mariella Frostrup must also hold some attraction. Gordon Brown enjoyed his softest Q&A session in some time with Frostrup at last year's festival.

Are festivals for publishers?

For authors and publishers alike, these occasions are regular and reliable opportunities for concerted networking – one long book launch. With the cocktails flowing freely in the bar tent, they are ideal places to make friends and close deals. "Some people enjoy endless socialisation," says Andrew Franklin, the founder of Profile books. "But festivals are a pretty big distraction from what being an author is supposed to be about, which is writing. Hay has just become a celebrity-fest."

If the publishing PR machine can persuade its authors to say something scandalous at a festival appearance, they might even make it into the papers. Little, Brown – publishers of Cherie Blair's autobiography – would no doubt have been happy to hear their author continuing her public feud with Alastair Campbell before a Hay audience last Saturday. Abacus, Gore Vidal's UK publishers, are probably rubbing their hands with glee at the prospect of a sales bump after the octogenarian admitted he may have fathered a love child. Both stories made it into prominent slots in the next day's press.

Do the festivals make any money?

Not much. But while the festivals themselves may not be wild financial successes, they do contribute to the the economic prosperity of the books trade and their local economies. Peter Florence estimates that the Hay Festival has generated £15m for the surrounding community, and the festival circuit is now seen, like the UK's many literary prizes, as a crucial marketing tool, helping publishers to shift more units either at the festivals, or via the external publicity they generate.

What's next on the literary calendar?

The upmarket Althorp Literary Festival at the Earl of Spencer's family seat boasts Tracy Chevalier and Ben Okri amongst its star attractions in June. The Edinburgh Festival now has a large literary arm, the Edinburgh International Books Festival, which takes place in Charlotte Square Gardens over three weeks in August. The Cheltenham Literature Festival is almost 60 years old, and attracts heavy-hitting authors every October. In November, it's time for Folkestone's Literary Festival. For those with particular tastes, the summer holds the Theakston's Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival in Harrogate, and the Ledbury Poetry Festival in Herefordshire. The Port Eliot festival, a favourite for those who like to mix music and film with literature, is taking a well-earned year off and promises to return in 2009.

Do you need to attend literary festivals to sell a book?

Yes...

*If an author makes a splash at a festival, they can make it into the next day's national press – that's free publicity

*Festivals are an essential component of the book trade's marketing machine, such as prizes and the Richard and Judy Book Club

*They keep an author engaged with their core audience, which is crucial to a trade that relies on word of mouth

No...

*The people who gain added media coverage from the Hay Festival are rarely novelists. Instead, they are people who have an axe to grind

*The event attracts a narrow group of London literati, who mingle with the same people as they would back in the capital

*Any given author's festival audience is already likely to be filled with fans. Appearing will not encourage many new readers