Today’s column was not meant to happen. I had promised myself to steer clear of commenting on last week’s book festival, seeing how anything related to the book industry in Malta seems to get mired in controversy andpetty squabbles.

But my life is not complicated enough, so I thought how about I create myself another set of enmities and problems.

The 2014 Book Festival – formerly the Malta Book Fair – held at the Mediterranean Conference Centre in Valletta, was the second one organised by the present National Book Council.

To say that my relationship with council chairman Mark Camilleri got off to a stormy start is somewhat of an understatement.

It’s probably safe to assume that my name is stored on his mobile with some exasperation-exclamation mark (a punctuation mark that should exist, incidentally) next to it.

There were – there still are – numerous areas where we disagree fundamentally, although to be fair, relations between the publishing industry and the various book councils have always been more or less strained, especially since there stopped being industry representation on the council.

Last year’s rebranding of the fair into a festival felt cosmetic; attendance and sales figures dropped significantly and alarmingly; and a general sense of tiredness permeating the fair remained.

More than a fair, it had over the years turned into a glorified bazaar, an opportunity to offload cheap wares and to hold formulaic book presentations.

Some of us tried, I hope, to infuse some energy and offbeat events into it, but a couple of colourful stands and informal activities do not a festival make.

Many of us have criticised the fair loudly and publicly, and every year punctually sent in detailed post-mortems with suggestions for improvement.

So it was a pleasant surprise to have lived through the five days that werethis year’s festival.

I felt a marked move towards a genuine festival vibe: whereas for way too long there was almost nothing but a stroll down the stands to look forward to when visiting the fair, this year at any given moment there was a sometimes eclectic, often interesting mix of events, interviews, activities big and small, readings, storytellings, animations, games, awards and author signings.

I was pleased – if the editor will allow me the immodesty – to see that other exhibitors took up our challenge and held on-stand and off-stand events, as we have been doing for the past eight years or so.

The weekday mornings, where schoolchildren visit the fair by busload, have long been a bane of many exhibitors.

Too often, children were almost literally dumped at the entrance and left to roam the hall in rowdy hordes. This has been successfully tackled by a team led by Patrick Decelis, the indefatigable head of Siġġiewi Primary School.

With near-military precision, he organised a schedule that allowed for schoolchildren to experience the book festival in an orderly fashion, with a clever mix of theatre, treasure hunt and free time for book browsing and shopping.

This year at any given moment there was a sometimes eclectic, often interesting mix of events

The Book Council’s giving each visiting student a €2 voucher ensured that each student, no matter their means, got to buy at least one book and it also provided concrete assistance to the book industry.

On a more organic level, steps – albeit baby steps – are being taken to ensure that those exhibitors who invest heavily in the festival, both financially with their stand stage design and marketing and in terms of human resources of organising on- and off-stand activities, are rewarded and assisted for their efforts.

The opening ceremony was also mercifully free of political speeches, and after last year’s faux pas of upstaging the book fair with a full-scale and never-ending orchestral production, this year’s affair was more book-appropriate and included – surprise surprise – literature.

This does not mean there haven’t been big mess-ups along the way.

Speaking for myself, my two largest festival events were significantly crippled due to omissions, inefficiencies and double-bookings by the organisers.

I was, and remain, furious that these were allowed to happen and that we have no practical redress for the damage caused us. I am still awaiting a council apology on both instances (hint, hint).

Clearly, a more professional approach is needed where written commitments to exhibitors are respected, and contractual conditions are not changed unilaterally – and somewhat dictatorially – literally 24 hours before an event.

The Book Council needs to understand that exhibitors would have spent a lot of time, energy and money setting up an event and that a last-minute major change in material conditions is not on.

Am I therefore completely happy with the festival? Not even close.

The Book Council’s Festival regeneration task is far from over.

The next step needs to be the appointment of a festival artistic director, to give a cohesive artistic direction to the event and take the rebranding to the next level.

A solution needs to be found to the wildly divergent interests and requirements of the different segments of the book community.

More needs to be done to assist those exhibitors who invest and believe in the festival, while at the same time respecting those who opt for the pile-’em-high-and-sell-’em-cheap approach.

The council cannot afford to forget that what keeps Maltese literature alive is, obviously the authors and illustrators and editors and proofreaders, but also and especially the industry – both publishing and distribution.

Too often has this basic fact been forgotten.

Without a book industry, manuscripts would remain in drawers, bar for those few who afford to self-publish.

Publishing standards would again plummet in the absence of a professional editorial, publication, marketing and distribution setup.

Enough. Now I’ll wait for the irate mails to come in.