Once upon a time, the words most associated with London’s literary scene might have been: mousey, dweebish, pretentious, stuffy, frigid. Sexy? Not even on the longlist.
But something has shifted. Over the past year, the city has seen a boom in buzzy, bookish events – from rowdy reading nights and wine-soaked salons to standing-room-only book clubs and “reading parties” that feel more like soft raves than study halls. Suddenly, the coolest thing you can do is crack a book – in public.
As Glenn Close’s character quips in The Wife: “A writer has to write.” Her older, jaded counterpart corrects her: “A writer has to be read, honey.” But in London today? A writer has to read – preferably out loud, in a basement bar, to a room full of strangers clutching warm wine and leaning in.
With names like Shon Faye, Megan Nolan and Eliza Clark popping up to test new work on live audiences, the city’s lit scene has gone from frumpy to flirtatious. And it’s not just about the books – it’s about the atmosphere. Events like Deleted Scenes, New Work Readings, Adult Entertainment and Rivet Reads are rewriting the rules. These nomadic gatherings travel from Peckham to Harringay, claiming shops, galleries and cocktail bars as impromptu salons. What draws the crowds? Fresh takes, fearless fiction and the thrill of hearing it all performed live – plus the buzz of being part of a community bound by books, curiosity and conversation.
Their rise has sparked a minor media frenzy, with breathless praise for their departure from the buttoned-up traditions of publishing. Words like “sexy” get thrown around a lot – and not entirely without reason. These nights pull in sharp, stylish crowds who come for the sentences and stay for the side-eyes, flirtations, and warm white wine-fueled debates.
Leading the charge is the Soho Reading Series, founded by Tom Willis, who proudly calls it “the engine of the London prose scene” and credits it with establishing “the party model of readings” in the city. On the so-called sex appeal of the scene, Willis laughs: “Good-looking people show up, but it’s mostly tongue-in-cheek. Still, yeah – if people want to have sex, why not?” What started as a 50-person gathering now regularly sells out 200-capacity venues – and their next event? Set to fill a 600-seat space.
As for what’s driving the rise of these literary salons, book critic Barry Pierce thinks it comes down to who’s throwing the party. Speaking of the “stuffy book launches” and in-store conversations which used to dominate the city’s literary scene, Barry says: “These events have their place but they were usually organised by publishing houses’ in-house PRs who, god help them, are not the type of people I’d rush to to organise a memorable party. I think the most important aspect of all these new events and reading series is that they have been organised by readers and writers, often gathering together a pleasantly disparate group of both amateur and professional writers who aren’t really there to sell a book.” According to Barry, word is that PR teams are now scrambling to decode the magic behind these buzzy, low-key nights that keep selling out – often without a single advertising poster.
He also sees the “sexiness” of the events as more media spin than reality. “Describing things as sexy is mostly just internet brain rot,” he says. “The 32-year-old man who typed that headline into the Canva template does genuinely think that’s how you market to Gen Z,” he goes on, before noting that while he admits the rooms are full of credibly hot people, he “wasn’t exactly shooting ropes in my underpants”.
If public performance isn’t your vibe, the arrival of Reading Rhythms might be. This lowkey “reading party” started in New York and now has chapters worldwide. The format is simple: bring a book, read silently in a group for 30 minutes, then chat to the person next to you. After another silent session, you’re put into small groups where your book becomes the jumping-off point for conversation. It’s a gentle, oddly intimate way to connect – no stage, no spotlight, just stories.
And for many attendees, that quiet intimacy is the real draw – not networking or performative cool, but a shared moment of presence. These events cater not just to those who are seeking to make new friends, but also to those who simply crave a feeling of togetherness. “It was great to socialise but my favourite thing about it was actually the reading sections,” says Bill, a 31-year-old research consultant who attended a recent Reading Rhythm event at the Papier office in Camden, London. “Doing something that is usually quite a solitary act, but in a room with other people doing the same thing – and just having that dedicated space to do it – felt... nice.” He also noted the mix of ages and tastes in the room, adding: “Everyone was happy to chat, and the variety of books people brought was fun – it felt like each one said something about who they are.”
As for those who prefer a more sensory approach, Service95’s latest book club event blended storytelling with wine tasting, pairing four carefully chosen books with wines from New Theory that echoed their unique qualities – like Miranda July’s sensual novel All Fours matched with New Theory’s unpredictable Pet Nat, Pot Luck. “Books can be a way to discover new worlds between the pages, but they are also a gateway to conversation, a way to meet new people and make new connections,” says Service95 Book Club Director Maria Padget. “The wine helps, too!” Indeed, as attendees sipped and absorbed insights, the pairings naturally sparked lively conversations and passionate book recommendations typical of true bibliophiles – it’s less about polished critiques and more about shared curiosity.
This recent surge in in-person book events across the city also owes much to the rise of celebrity-led virtual book clubs, which have turned trending titles into cultural must-haves. Stars like Emma Roberts, Kaia Gerber, Florence Welch, Dakota Johnson – and, of course, Dua Lipa – have guided their followers toward fresh authors and themes close to their hearts, sparking not just a love of reading but also a hunger for thoughtful conversation and literary debate.
Perhaps this spike just reflects how we have always engaged with literature. As Barry Pierce puts it: “Rarely do you read something and then immediately move on [without speaking about it].” We have always used books as springboards for conversation and connection – these events merely carve out public spaces for that to happen. So, could it be that the readers behind the world’s best-selling novels have always been cool? Maybe even, dare we say it, sexy?
