This post comes from the midst of Book Expo America, publishing’s annual trade fair that is staged in the cavernous interior of New York’s Jacob Javits convention center, a glass and steel behemoth hunkered down beside the Hudson. The Javits Center looks a good deal like an airport, complete with footsore travelers,  overpriced food and wheeled luggage, (but without planes, TSA pat-downs or conveniently located bathrooms.)  In the exhibitors halls stretch several football fields worth of booths—some small, some sprawling and beautifully appointed–and all bent on giving stuff away:  books, galleys, catalogs, posters, blads, postcards, totebags,  pens, custom-made gingersnaps…

 Beneath this hive of activity is the  purgatory they call the food court and a complex warren of meeting rooms that are as impossible to find as they are windowless, but where all manner of interesting meetings and panel discussions are taking place. This year, I was determined to attend a few. I sat in on a panel hosted by the Women’s Media Group that explored success amidst the shifting landscape of the publishing industry, where I got to listen to a quintet of accomplished women discuss their career paths. I’d also promised myself that this year I would not return home laden with galleys and books I had no business taking, that I would adhere to a strict look-don’t-take policy.  Of course I broke this promise almost immediately.   But who can say no to so many beautifully packaged, cleverly positioned books?  I am counting the minutes until I can dive into the galley of Michel Faber’s new novel. I loved the Crimson Petal and the White and Under the Skin, and while I rarely think that speculative fiction is my cup of tea, I’m willing to admit my ideas about tea might be wrong.

 Jut a little while ago, I got a funny e-mail message from an editor friend who assiduously avoids BEA, wondering if I actually like attending.  And I do. I like BEA because it affords me an opportunity to see out-of-town editors with whom I’ve previously only corresponded, to reconnect with  old friends (and make new ones in the dependably long queue for the ladies room).  But I love BEA because it is a visual, immersive, and tangible manifestation of people whose lives revolve around reading.