9:15 a.m.

Shelf Awareness brings us up to date on this year’s BEA.

And our local online city paper, Smile Politely, does, in fact, make us smile. (I’ll admit to initially having wondered whether there was a book in Wrastlin’ Abe.)

Author-publisher relations can sometimes be a bit fraught, but spending time with Asinof was effortless. Over a long dinner at the late, great Printer’s Row restaurant, we were treated to tales of his screenwriting days in Hollywood before he was blacklisted. He included a discreet sidebar about his marriage to Jocelyn Brando (yes, that Brando) and delighted in detailing passionate tussles and feuds with big trade houses over the decades.

He often received Isaac Asimov’s mail when they lived in the same building in Manhattan. My colleague Gordon looked just like an old buddy from the Phillies farm team. Just like him, Asinof kept repeating. In a story that confirmed all the possibilities of Life in the City for my ardent imagination, his rainy-day encounter with a woman holding an umbrella at a bus stop led to a friendship with opera great Frederica von Stade.

Asinof ruled the table that night with a gruff New York charm that I’d seen only in black and white movies starring actors he’d probably drank scotch with. He was clearly thrilled for his first book to have a new life. For three days he roved the show floor at McCormick Place, alternately amazed and chagrined at what the world of books had become. He was having fun, and we were his willing acolytes.

During our in-booth signing for Man on Spikes, word quickly spread up and down the row—The slightly stooped, elegantly suited man was the author of Eight Men Out!—which  naturally had special relevance for the Chicagoans and sports fans on hand. On the weekend before Father’s Day, many asked for appropriate inscriptions. A line formed and steadily snaked down the aisle. Asinof revved up and was off, his eyes sparkling, his wit quick, his game most decidedly on.

I soon moved on to a city of my own and other publishing work. On a whim I sent Asinof a letter updating him on my new life. After a few months a handwritten note arrived from Ancramdale. He wished me well in my adventure and also mentioned that the last time he’d been in the Twin Cities was when he was playing minor league ball before World War II. Nice place, he said.

 Gotta set up the booth.

First morning.

Posing after the contract workers did all of the heavy lifting.

The day before we left for LA, a terrible thought entered my mind: what if BEA didn’t live up to my idea of it? The minute I hit the convention floor, those fears were quickly dispelled. The South Hall, with all its spectacularly designed and lighted booths, looked like Times Square, if Times Square only advertised books. One of the first things that caught my eye was the gigantic Batman banner hanging by the DC Comics booth. As a huge fan of The Dark Knight, I took this as a good omen.

The number of publishers at the Expo was staggering. There were big houses like Random House, Simon & Schuster, etc. There were smaller presses like Softskull, Coffeehouse Press and Small Beer Press. Of course there were the university presses. There were also the tiny publishers like Manic D. Books were put out at varying intervals throughout the day. If you wanted a specific book, you would have to make multiple trips to get the advertised ARCs. I was on the hunt. I had a list of books to obtain and I had every intention of succeeding. I got all the books, except for two, and in the end my haul ended up surpassing my expectations.

There were many lines to stand in at BEA. Friendships were formed in an instant in these lines — the desire for a tote bag or author’s autograph being the connective tissue that allowed people to divulge family information and work histories to a complete stranger. One woman referred to herself as the aunt I never knew because I had saved her place in line while she went to go pick up an ARC at a neighboring booth. These relationships ended as soon as the line dispersed.

Here are some tips for any future BEA attendees:

1. Be prepared to walk. A lot. However much you think you’ll walk, double it. BEA took up two huge convention center halls that were on opposite ends of the building. The only place to sit, if you’re an attendee, was in the food court, and seating was at a premium.

2. Train. Tote bags stuffed with books can be hard on the body. I suggest strength training that focuses on the lower back, abs, and shoulders. A little arm work won’t hurt either for when you have to push your way through the crowd waiting to get an autograph from Alec Baldwin or William Shatner. Yes, there were a lot of movie and TV celebrities promoting their books at BEA.

3. Remember, you’ll need your strength. BEA is exhausting, in the best way possible if there is such a thing, so you’ll need to stay hydrated. Carry around a snack to help you get through the post-lunch energy lull.

BEA was a blast.  But, I suspect only a true book dork would say this.

*****

Brian is an MFA, fiction, candidate at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign. He is pictured above behind his piles of goodies.

Five hour flight delay on Wednesday. All materials arrived safely by Thursday. Setup. Lunch. Setup a little more. Los Angeles print publicity panel. Use freakish height to hang lights for a fellow university press. Walk back to the hotel past the Staples Center. Bookforum’s Reading the World Initiative reception. Buy smoothie but decline “free boost.” Watch the Lakers on TV win the Western Conference Finals at the Staples Center. Iron clothes. Skim directory. Logoff.