Posts Tagged ‘london book fair’

The London Book Fair! And Small Presses

No quote today. Because I’m half-dead, having returned from London on Thursday night and still feeling the jet-lag, or time change, or post-motion sickness patch hangover. Whatever it is, it has left me pretty dumb, and with poorly functioning eyeballs. But it was worth it. Nearly two weeks of playing tour guide for Dylan and walking miles along the Thames, and eating way too much fish and chips, bangers, and mushy peas. Despite the walking I gained four pounds. So, hey, fish and chips and bangers…a plague on both your houses.

And then of course, there was the LBF:

 
It was a bustling and enormous trade show. Walking the floor, my head spun seeing all the displays and brushing shoulders with so many people tagged with titles like Acquiring Editor and Subrights Agent. I spent several hours at a small booth, promoting my small press book, Sleepwalk Society. Never heard of it? Don’t worry. Few people have. Despite the fact that I and my small press have been quietly pushing it for months, and despite good reviews. It’s not one of those big, slam bang blockbusters. It’s existential, and character-driven. it’s about finding a future, and falling in love when neither of those things are certain.

A few things about small, independent presses. I remember being at a writer’s conference in Madison, Wisconsin, and listening to an agents panel. I only remember one exact quote, and that was an agent who sometimes advised her clients to consider a smaller press, because "you can really be treated like a star." That’s certainly been the case with my small press publisher. Working so closely, directly with the publisher themselves, has a very, in-the-trenches-together kind of feel. And for a significant portion of the year, my book has been front and center, and she has scrambled, and managed, and micro-managed, and forged contacts, and tested waters, to make sure that everything went smoothly for me. 

Now, after a lovely phone call this morning, it feels as though we’re at an end. We’re both moving on to our new projects, and the word, "backlist" was thrown around. She’s still working diligently, shopping film rights, -so hey, Darren Aronofsky, you listening?- but most of the push is over. And my focus too, is shifting more fully to Anna Dressed in Blood. But we’ll still keep in touch.

This is not to say I don’t love the team at Tor. Duh. They’re awesome. This is just a little love letter to PRA Publishing, thrown out into cyberspace.

There was also some post-writing location research at the Tower of London, and some of the north London neighborhoods, just to make sure I hadn’t gotten anything horribly wrong. And luckily, my memory seemed to have held true. Location research for what, you ask? Well, you can probably guess.

And, lest I forget, Dylan realized one of his lifelong goals, by touching a penguin:


The penguin seemed more surprised than anything. Of course then he gave us the stinkeye and muttered, "damn tourists," before waddling off.

 

Is it raining, is it snowing…is a hurricane a-blowing?

That song from Gene Wilder in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is the creepiest damn thing in the world of children. I love it. I also love when he pulls that kid’s hair out in the chocolate room. Classic. Johnny Depp’s version was more openly hilariously hostile, but I think I prefer the backhanded commentary of Wilder.

That phrase though, induces a very wondering, panicky feeling, not unlike the dread that’s been swirling about the world of books for the last decade or so.  (See how far I’ll go to make a quote relate?) Are books dying? Are picture books dying? Is literary fiction on its way out? Is anyone reading the short story? These questions make my head hurt. I walked into a closing Borders bookstore yesterday. Made me want to throw up. (Well, that and the really bad cherry slushy I was drinking.) Look, I love books. I love reading. I’m a big advocate for libraries and reading in general, of reading to kids, particularly. Because if my parents hadn’t read my ears off and suffered through a hundred or so renditions of the same unicorn book, I might not have learned to read as well. And if you read well, you tend to write better. And if you write better, you tend to do better on research papers and that. So read to your kids. They’ll become CEOs and scientists.

The title of this blog, Read, Dammit! Read! doesn’t just mean read MY stuff. Come on. I’m not an asshole. But read something. Myself, I just read and loved Ty Roth’s SO SHELLY. It’s haunting, beautifully written, and will both drain and fill your soul. I’m making a switch next month to the short story with Holly Black’s The Poison Eaters collection. And in the fall, I’m buying the new Skippy Jon Jones for some kid-aged friends.

Next week, I’m departing for London, my old stomping grounds, where I will meet up with old friends and revisit favorite places before heading to the London Book Fair and being drowned in book talk. Ah, all the book talk. See, the panic and dread about the decline of books doesn’t bother me. I’m glad of it. When people feel panic and dread they take action. They spread the word. They become a force.