Last night, I introduced the readers at my first ever hosting of the Exiled Lit Café by talking about what we do in small rooms and why it matters.
We were in the Betsey Trotwood pub (named for the irrepressible character in David Copperfield) in Farringdon, a London neighbourhood where old and new mingle with heart-stirring energy. To get there, we walked out of a futuristic station, crossed a Victorian iron bridge topped with painted red dragons, followed a line of gleaming glass sky scrapers past 300 year old houses, refurbished into homes for coffee shops and tech entrepreneurs.

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