Chels

If you’ve talked to me for more than half an hour, you’ve probably heard me say that I wish the midlands had a bigger industry for the arts. These days it feels like if you want a creative career, you need to pack up and move to London or Manchester just to have a chance at success. Things are getting better for us, though – York has a growing literary scene, Sheffield seems to be becoming a real hub for midlands based publishing, and Screen Yorkshire has a Leeds-based programme for aspiring filmmakers. Nottingham, though, seems to keep getting neglected. 

It’s not for lack of history – Nottingham has D.H. Lawrence and Lord Byron, and we were even made a UNESCO City of Literature back in 2015. Our stately homes, Woollaton Hall and Hardwick Hall, have been used in countless films, from the Dark Knight to Harry Potter. The midlands has also inspired some of our most iconic British realist films like This is England and The Full Monty. Shane Meadows, director of This is England and executive producer of Charity Shop Sue, comes from Staffordshire, and most of his films are set in and inspired by the midlands. He became a real icon for me way back when I was studying film – it was just such a reassurance that we do make it in the arts. You hear a lot of southern accents in British media, and northern too, depending on what kind of things you’re watching, but it’s much rarer to hear a midlands accent. Save maybe for Birmingham, mostly because of Peaky Blinders.

It’s not to say we don’t have a rich arts and literary scene today – the LeftLion magazine is still being published, though it feels like every year funding depletes and we’re at more risk of losing the magazine. We also have Five Leaves – an independent bookshop and publisher (who happen to have published Mary Bailey’s poetry pamphlet, which took my interest in local literature to a whole new level). Five Leaves is a real champion for the voices that have historically gone unheard in publishing – queer stories, Jewish and Romani literature, as well as local authors telling stories of Nottingham. 

So, really, it’s not as bleak as one might think on a particularly dejected day. 

Still, there was something missing. Andrew Tucker Leavis, a Nottingham local, created the New Nottingham Journal, a brand new print and digital publication sharing fiction, poetry, journalism, and photography, with Nottingham at its heart. The first issue officially launched on November 14th, and since then, I’ve been spending my time immersing myself in the talent we have in the midlands.

Even from the very first piece of writing – a letter from the editor – the Notts pride is clear. There aren’t that many famous figures from our county, but the ones we do have are rebels, heroes. From Robin Hood to D.H. Lawrence, we’ve got a history of perseverance and pushing boundaries. The New Nottingham Journal exemplifies that. With ever decreasing funding for the arts, and ever increasing emphasis on STEM over humanities education, it can sometimes feel like as creatives, everything is stacked against us. NNJ is defying those odds – here is a journal composed of incredible writing, predominantly by midlands creatives, put together with great care. The journal is financially backed by the Arts Council, in turn funded by the National Lottery, but predominantly, funding came from a Kickstarter campaign. I’m not a part of NNJ, nor have I worked on a crowdfunded project, but even as an outsider I feel a sense of pride that a community has rallied together to support the project. Maybe it’s the Notts pride in me, but I’m just so glad that the NNJ was able to come to fruition.

It’s not just a Nottingham bubble, though, there are also stories from across the globe, written by writers from across the globe. It’s fitting, really – with two universities in the city, Nottingham thrives with diversity. Our Old Market Square has often had multicultural markets, celebrating food from the many cultures in our community. The New Nottingham Journal really is Notts in book form – the writers captured the comfort of our nature, the value of our libraries, the anxieties of modern life, be they political or personal. 

I really hope that the New Nottingham Journal continues to thrive. It feels like a glimmer of hope for our literary scene. We may not be as populous as London, we may not have as much dedicated arts and performance education as Manchester, but there’s no shortage of talent, as the NNJ exemplifies. Hopefully, this is only the beginning of a new chapter for Notts, one that sees our literary industry grow.

You can purchase the first issue of the New Nottingham Journal in print or digital format on the NNJ Shop.