The Washington Independent Review of Books column I wrote last month was about the types of people you’ll find at book festivals. You know, anything from the creepy fans to the writer whose work you fall in love with. I now have one to add to my list, thanks to my own poor judgment: the person who thinks it’s ok to bring their toddler to a reading and watches in horror while he proceeds to do snow angels on the floor while a poet is expressing grief in a series of sonnets on stage. Oops.
Fall for the Book always puts me in a weird mood. I find myself excited about all these writers in one place, but it also inevitably makes me feel inadequate about my own writing and writing career and where things are going. I seem to have to recharge myself after a book festival or writing conference. I wonder if this happens to a lot of writers. We’re always comparing ourselves to other people even if the successes that happen to other people really have no bearing on what we are doing and how our work is received.
Writer Matthew Burnside recently posted a status on Facebook that I found comforting: “Sometimes you feel like you’re not being nearly productive enough as a writer and then remember this shit isn’t a race it’s a tedious shaping of sandcastles on the beach and all that matters is the integrity of the mold before the tide comes crashing in.” Truth!
Some other stuff going on right now this minute:
For a sneak peek at the novel I’m working on, you can check out the short section of it that Wigleaf published recently. Fingers crossed I can pull this off.
I also read a lovely set of novellas by Michael Ruhlman, In Short Measures, and reviewed it at Washington Independent Review of Books.
Love this super creepy story I read recently at matchbook.
And Art Taylor won an Anthony Award this past weekend at the Boucheron mystery convention. (And I found Sherlock.)
Word.
