Unashamed plug department: Bradford Book Festival is on now, and this Thursday evening I'll be joining some rather talented people for an event at the Alhambra Studio.

When I say joining them, I don't mean just turning up and watching, nor sitting on the pavement outside and asking them to spare the price of a cup of tea. I'll actually be there, contributing to the event in which we'll be reading from our body of work.

Before the wags among you start wondering aloud whether that means I'll be reading the weekend's shopping list, then no, it doesn't. I won't even be reading from my recent T&A columns, despite the encouraging words I received this week from Mr R Potter of Grassington, who sent a lovely postcard with a picture of a telephone box on the front and, on the back, the words: "Can I give you some advice - don't ever leave the T&A and try to get a job at a decent paper". I mean, that's nice, isn't it - he doesn't want to see me go. Well, no fear, Mr Potter (or can I call you R?) - I'll be here for the foreseeable, so I hope you can enjoy my "articals", as you put it, in future.

Anyway. On the bill for Thursday night (tickets a mere three quid! Telephone the box office on 01274 432000 to secure yours now!) are Martyn Bedford, another former T&A journo whose latest novel is The Island of Lost Souls; Bill Broady, author of Eternity is Temporary, and Emma Unsworth, a shockingly young writer and editor who's had a slew of short stories published.

And me. Well, they needed someone to make up the numbers, presumably, and the organisers no doubt know just how popular I am with the reading public out there.

So I'm not getting big-headed about it, because I know how quickly a writer can be brought down to earth.

I'll probably read something from my novel Hinterland, which was published in 2005. I had a launch party at Waterstone's in Bradford, which went spiffingly well. Apart from, of course, the point where I dropped a full bottle of Grolsch all over the floor just as I was getting into my stride. And this was despite some friendly advice from professional author Joolz Denby that booze and readings don't mix.

The faint aroma of a brewery rising from the carpets all around, I did some readings from the book and lots of nice people bought a copy, and the next day I popped into the store to thank the manager, Paul, and to apologise for making his shop smell like a public house.

He asked me to sign some copies of the book and handed me what was on the shelf then went into the back of the shop for some more.

As I started to sign them with a flourish and a smile I was collared by the shop's security man, who wanted to know what I was doing defacing books.

I vowed never to let pride come before a fall ever again.

I haven't, however, made any promises about not having a drop of Dutch courage before doing any more of these literary shindigs, so it might be worth your while popping along even if you hate my guts, because I might do one of my patented beer bottle juggling sessions just to add a bit of extra zing to my reading.

But seriously, folks; arts and culture in Bradford have been under the cosh recently, so support your local book festival. It doesn't have to be this event you go to (although it would be nice if you did): just make sure events like this thrive.