Bookseller Conferences Are Fun

Laughter, tears, and eye slugs

This week is Winter Institute, the annual independent booksellers’ conference. It’s like the Super Bowl for people who don’t know the rules of football. (Just kidding, of course I know the rules— one concussion, you win, two concussions, you lose! Or something.) This year’s conference was in Seattle, and because I spent last week on vacation in California with my family, I had a day or so in LA on my own before heading north. Here is the most expensive room service sandwich I have ever eaten.

Try to guess how much this cost. No! More! It cost $29. TWENTY-NINE DOLLARS.

On to Seattle! I was there with Very Good Hats, which was a new experience for me, both because it’s a picture book and also because it’s already out, and therefore I’m not a jiggling receptacle of anxiety. Bookseller conferences are very much like other conferences in that they take place in spaces like this, where you feel sure you will get lost/stuck/die and no one will ever find you.

These escalators went neither up nor down. They were on the 4th floor, but the conference was mostly on the 6th floor, accessible only via another bank of endless escalators.

The great thing about going to WI as an author (as opposed to a bookseller) is that it meant that three of my booksellers got to come. Here is Amali in a bar! And Julia in the snow! I took no photos of Nick because he was having too much fun.

The best part about Winter Institute is seeing all one’s bookseller pals from across the country. I took many selfies with my friends and somehow I have almost no photos on my actual phone. I couldn’t possibly list everyone I was delighted to see, but here is a brief and incomplete list: Luisa from BookPassage/Penzler Books (who gave away the best lil goodie bag, more on that in a minute), Michael from Rakestraw, Julie from Warwick’s, Cathy and Valerie from Blue Willow, Nicole from Oblong, Dana and Mitchell and Cristina from Books + Books….I could list people all day! It was especially nice to come after doing two tours this year. I did much, much hugging.

Here Cathy and Nicole expertly model some Books Are Magic merchandise.

A small press makes bookseller baseball cards. Here is Luis from Avid Bookshop and his card.

Here is Javier from Exile in Bookville and his card. You see? If you’ve been reading this newsletter for a few months, you will recognize so many of these names and faces. Speaking of names and faces, there are also lots of authors wandering around. Writers have a particularly good gig at Winter Institute and usually have to do literally nothing but show up at dinner time. Here is me and Colson Whitehead being very cool on the bus to dinner.

I did not clear this post with Colson. I took this photo to send to his wife Julie, who is my friend. Julie, don’t tell Colson I put this in my newsletter.

If publishers or various other folks hand out anything, it’s usually candy, but my girl Luisa handed me a little care package that had THESE in it. This is the way to win someone’s heart. Goopy little slugs for your eyeballs. Thank you, Luisa, I love you.

The other thing that authors have to do is show up in the Thunderdome at 5pm on Wednesday afternoon, for an event that WI calls the ‘author reception’ which sounds civilized and chill but in fact is not. Here is how it works: the authors are seated at tables around the perimeter of the room with stacks of their galleys (or in my case, finished books), a few sharpies, and a silent prayer, and then at exactly 5pm they open the doors to the ballroom and 900 booksellers run in all at once, like at Walmart on Black Friday, straight for poor Colson Whitehead’s table. Or Jon Klassen’s table. Or Leah Johnson’s table. Or Nana Kwame Adjai-Brenyah’s table. (I love all of those writers, and got to hug 3/4, Jon Klassen was on the opposite side of the room and I didn’t even see him.) This is the best part, really. You get to talk to everyone, and they say such nice things, and I will tell you that I cried about five times. So many people said kind things to me about This Time Tomorrow, and about my dad. I like to think that I offer the full service author experience—laughter and tears within three minutes.

Leah Johnson, cute as a gosh dang button.

My new prized possession.

And now I’m heading home! Thank you to the PRH kids team for sending me, and to my booksellers for putting up with me! Flight is boarding! Ta ta! No proofreading on this baby, all typos author’s own.