Visiting the Book Expo of America, in NYC. To book sign “Le Chic Cocoon” and to meet, mingle and be found.
A mass of people connected by the word.
Free Books, famous authors,
Press and people converging to do business, to invest and ingest what lies between the covers.
From Erotica to children’s tales, there is a buzz in the air. The smell of ink drying and stories spinning.
Cameras and journalists wandering the halls, in search of the tale that stings or sparks.
Every barely known author longs for book lights, and a draw card.
Spying well known faces amongst the pile of books,
lines snake around, people waiting to meet the author and get a book signed. Book bags bulge.
I feel like I am in a fantasy of libraries,
each room leading into another.
A castle of words, piled high atop one another, waiting to be read.
Platinum authors, feted and invited to secret parties.
As always women line up in the ladies room, and everywhere people are overloaded with books. Exhausted and elated from their haul.
Sheherazade would have enough material for more than a 1001 nights.
I wonder if anyone would buy her pitch? Maybe if she wandered the halls in Harem gear, and perched on stools weaving tales of magic, she would have the media melting into the glory in the story.
Would you love to visit Book Expo and gather a bushel of books for the price of admission and would it enthrall you?
Joie de Vivre