Library author chat

I Thought I Was Preparing For A Small Library Talk…

Today I took a copy of Queen’s Road into Bridgwater Library.

Or rather… the temporary library building, because the main one is currently closed for repairs and apparently I am already surviving the first stage of the apocalypse by wandering around Bridgwater trying to work out where I’m supposed to park.

Very on brand.

I went in expecting a fairly small, quiet conversation about the upcoming author event.

Instead, I came out genuinely excited.

The event itself is being held at Bridgwater Arts Centre, which is honestly such a lovely space. Warm, creative, full of character, and exactly the kind of place that makes local storytelling feel important. I had not realised quite how much promotion Somerset Libraries and the Arts Centre actually do for these events either.

There are newsletters.
Local press releases.
Council websites.
Social media promotion.
Arts Centre promotion.
Community listings.

Apparently this little apocalypse street I created in my head is now heading out into Somerset properly.

Which feels both exciting and faintly surreal.

One of the nicest parts of the conversation was realising that people are genuinely connecting with the Somerset side of Queen’s Road. The familiar roads. The village atmosphere. The idea of ordinary people in recognisable places trying to navigate extraordinary circumstances.

Because although Queen’s Road is technically post-apocalyptic fiction, it has never really been about zombies.

It is about neighbours.
Community.
Humour.
Fear.
Tea.
People trying to stay decent when life becomes difficult.

Honestly, most of the street would probably survive entirely through sarcasm and passive aggression alone.

I also realised today that I need to somehow talk for an hour and a half without:

a) accidentally spoiling the books
b) becoming a full-time motivational speaker
or
c) causing an actual apocalypse panic by asking retired Somerset readers how they would survive societal collapse.

Although, if I’m honest, I suspect they’d survive far better than most of us.

There is something very strange and lovely about seeing the private world of writing slowly become public. For so long Queen’s Road has existed in notebooks, late-night writing sessions, random scraps of dialogue, endless cups of tea, and me muttering things like “would Justice classify bourbons separately from digestives during the apocalypse?”

Now there are posters.
Plans.
Signed copies.
Event discussions.
People asking about Book Two.
And a real physical venue waiting for me to stand up and talk about this strange little street and the people inside it.

I think what I’m learning is that readers do not connect to Queen’s Road because it is “about the end of the world.”

They connect because it feels familiar.

It feels like somewhere they know.
Or maybe somewhere they almost know.

And honestly, I think that means more to me than any marketing plan ever could.