The Publisher's Marketing Manager and the Diseased Brownies: Staff Development Day part 1

Someone was in my apartment this weekend. Happily, it was an invited someone and not a stranger. 

While working in Raleigh, I was lucky enough to get to know the library marketing manager for a major publisher who was telecommuting from Chapel Hill. Recently, she agreed to come down and be part of a book buzz at my current library's staff development day. Talia is a ball of energy and has a sense of humor that rivals my own, so I asked her stay with me while she was in town. Not only was it the least I could do, but she'd be great entertainment for the weekend.

I picked her up from the airport on a sunny Sunday morning. "Oh!" she commented. "Its so pretty here!" Talia is nothing if not very well-mannered.

"Don't judge Gainesville by this side of town," I warned her. Because despite her enthusiasm, we were driving through an industrial area on our way into downtown and the edge of campus. 

She was insistent. "But, it's Florida!" she exclaimed. Considering that she'd just left a snow-covered North Carolina, anyplace where she could see pavement was probably acceptable. 

"Well, now," I responded, raising my eyebrows, "you don't see any palm trees, do you?" I explained that, in many ways, Gainesville and northern Florida is not like the rest of Florida, with a different climate and topography. Talia dismissed this with a wave of her hand. She was happy just to be anywhere in Florida. I love people who are easy to please.

My mind never being very far from food, I asked Talia if she was hungry. She tilted her head like she was considering this when I added, "I made brunch reservations for ten minutes from now."

She beamed. "Oh, good, I'm starving." Once again, easy to please. 

Brunch was lovely, full of excellent food and talking over one another in between bites. We were especially amused by the man who was charged with keeping the buffet full and fresh and found it necessary to announce what he was delivering at every pass through the dining room. Afterwards, we made a requisite trip trip through Target, as I wanted to illustrate that the floorplan of the Gainesville Target is simply wrong. We love Target (and since Talia found two pairs of shoes in less than ten minutes, I'm including her in the Target heartfest), but this one really needs to be rearranged. I'm just saying.

Making it back to my apartment, Talia finally got to meet Sasha. I think it was pretty clear that Sasha would have been all over her immediately if it wasn't for her even more immediate need for Fancy Feast. A girl's gotta have priorities. We settled in, and it wasn't long before Sasha's affinity for my lap was quickly replaced.
 









At this point, I need to explain that I had prepared for Talia's visit and the upcoming Staff Development Day with boxes of brownies and lemon bars. I rarely cook or bake (if you can call mixing up something from a box baking), but I had someone here to encourage me and an event at which I could share, so what better time to pull out the mixing bowls? Also, I could blame someone else if they didn't come out right. I spent a good bit of time comparing mixes to make just the right choice for this rare baking event. Some of the rejected candidates include:

I can't eat multi-colored food, especially if one of the colors is blue.

Is there enough cookie in that brownie?

Maybe others don't like PB & Chocolate as much as I do

Way too reminiscent of something healthy

I try to buy American

I settled on a box of lemon bars and a different brand of chocolate chip cookie brownies. Talia, being of similar mind, agreed that there was really no need to venture back out of the apartment when we had perfectly good brownies for dinner, not to mention the entire first season of Breaking Bad to watch.

We started with the lemon bars, Talia quickly showing mad baking skills by preparing the mix. "I need a tablespoon of water," she read from the box. This being something I could manage, I grabbed a measuring spoon and prepared the water. While she continued with the mix, I greased the pan. "How smooth do you think this needs to be?" she asked me. Like I knew. Luckily, we were working on a bottle of wine, so after a while, the texture of the lemon bar mix just didn't seem all that important.

Talia having the lemon bars under control, I moved on to the cookie brownies. See Tracy bake. You might never see it again.

Talia helped me finish the cookie brownies by dropping teaspoons of chocolate chip cookie mix onto the brownie batter already in the pan. "This doesn't look right," she said, peering at the pan. 

"It's brownies and chocolate chip cookies. How's it supposed to look?" I responded, motioning her to keep going. Eventually, we popped the pans into the oven and turned back to the counters to clean up (and I say that like it wasn't Talia who ended up doing the dishes. Great manners, that one.). "Um, whats that?" I asked, pointing at the measuring spoon of water for the lemon bars, still on the counter. Talia looked stricken. She looked at the measuring spoon. She looked at the oven. She looked back at the measuring spoon. She looked at me. I shrugged.

"The lemon bars are going to be a bit dry," she announced.

We settled into the living room. Talia got me invested in Breaking Bad while we waited, so my perfect Sunday afternoon of food, wine, friends, and television was complete. 

At one point, she got up to check on the brownies. "I really don't think these look right," she called from the kitchen. "They're diseased! They look like they have small pox!"

"Well, they smell great," I replied. I was not to be deterred from chocolate and sugar that easily. A short time later, we went in to pull them out of the oven. She was right. The cookie brownies kind of looked diseased. Or like a Jersey Cow. One of those. Talia refused to bring them to Staff Development Day, saying she wanted nothing to do with diseased brownies. But because we'd pulled them out of the oven just a bit early, they were nice and gooey and tasted just fine. Even if they were diseased.

Coming soon: Staff Development Day part 2

Authors Are My Rock Stars

The lobby of the Random House offices

Last month, I was lucky enough to get to attend Book Expo America in New York City. For those of you who might not be addicted to books, BEA is a conference of what, at one time, was primarily booksellers and publishers but has come to include librarians, educators, and other supporters of reading in its various forms. Now, if you couldn't care less about books and the people who write them, stop reading, because you're just not going to get this at all. Someone like me getting to go to a conference like this is the equivalent of going backstage at a concert featuring all your favorite musicians with a  bunch of other people who love them as much as you do.

Rainbow Rowell signing autographs

Logic dictates that I would detail this adventure in chronological order, but not being particularly logical, I'm going to start with the highlight of my trip, which was running into Rainbow Rowell in an aisle between booths. Not literally, of course. If I did that, I surely wouldn't be sharing it with you here. No, I caught sight of her as I was walking through the hoards of people and was forced to stop and gush. (I'd like to say that I wasn't being literal here either, but I'd be lying.) Even if you love reading, you might not know who Rainbow Rowell is, but be patient, you will. For now, let's just say she's my current fave author, and so finding myself in conversation with her, live and in-person, is something akin to getting to shake the hand of the President. Rainbow has written two young adult novels and an adult novel, none of which resemble any of the others, and her description of her fourth novel (which will be for adults) sounds so intriguing that I'm already counting the days until I can get an advance copy. She was absolutely as delightful as any of her readers would expect, and she politely overlooked my excessive enthusiasm for the positive feedback about her books. I ran into her the next day (again, not literally) at her publisher's booth, where she was signing copies of her upcoming book, called Fangirl (Huh. Coincidence, that.) Rainbow was charming and gracious and seemed genuinely glad to hear how much her books are being enjoyed. It could only have been more perfect if I'd managed to get a picture of us together. Don't think I didn't consider it.

Which brings me back to the beginning of the trip, which began with a sort of "pre-BEA event" known as Library Journal's Day of Dialog (as in, dialog about all things libraries). It

Caleb Crain, Allan Gurganus, Al Lamanda, Richard North Patterson, and Amy Tan

was thrilling to be in the same room with authors like Richard Dawkins, Richard North Patterson, and Amy Tan. But just as exciting was the opportunity to listen to other librarians speak to current issues in librarianship, from self-publishing to floating collections (once again, if you're not a book lover or librarian, you really should consider a different choice of blogs for your reading material). I listened to a fabulous panel of experienced librarians talking about how their libraries deal with the same issues my library deals with. These are movers and shakers in my world, so while they might not be writing my favorite books, librarians, too, are my rock stars. I also got to put faces to many names I'd known online, libraries whose reviews I've read and libraries I've admired. I felt like I should have brought an autograph book. I would have put it to use immediately, as I got to meet Allan Gurganus (The Oldest Living Confederate Widow Tells All), a North Carolina author who has his first novel in ten years about to come out. It felt a little like home.

That night was the first of several meals at which the company was so spectacular that it was easy to forget I was eating hotel food. My first engagement was the second annual BEA Children's Librarians Dinner cohosted by Association of American Publishers and School

Kendare Blake; not a great pic, but live and in person all the same

Library Journal and featuring Susan Cooper, Jack Gantos, Jonathan Stroud, Cynthia Voigt, and Kendare Blake. "I got into the children's librarian's dinner! I get to meet Kendare Blake!" I enthused to a friend in an email, as we are both huge fans of her first novel, Anna Dressed in Blood. "I think it's funny that you're going to be in a room full of award-winning authors, and you're most excited about the least known of them," she said drily in a responding email. Not to be deterred from my brush with greatness, I made my way to the dinner, poured myself a glass of wine (hotel food is always better with wine), and sat back to listen. It was really fun to get to hear her talk in person, and I emailed the above picture to my co-fan from the dinner table. Afterwards, I stood in line to meet her and tell her how much I enjoyed her work. I walked out with my bag of advance copies (the first of many bags of advance copies I would get over the next few days) and began shaking my hands with the excitement of having shook the hand of Kendare Blake. And while all the speakers were wonderful, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention how much I enjoyed listening to Jack Gantos. The renowned children's author, describing his long and circuitous route to getting published, offhandedly mentioned that his jail sentence was nothing compared to getting a book published. He looked slightly confused at our laughter, giving us a "I don't understand" expression, because he had indeed spent time in jail for transporting drugs into the United States. He even confided to us that he'd buried a stash in Central Park. Some people still think he was kidding. I became so entranced and fascinated that I'm now reading his account of that experience.

But that was just the beginning. Did I mention that I was there with a friend from my old library? Setting aside the whole Rainbow Rowell thing, getting to see her was truly a highlight of the trip. We didn't stop talking the entire time (that might just have been me). Janet and I set started out the conference with, what else?, an author breakfast. Sponsored by Random House and held in their offices, this morning we would breathe the same air as authors Jo Baker (Longbourn), Marisha Pessl (Special Topics in Calamity

Jamie Ford; not taken by me :-(

Physics), Janice Clark (The Rathbones), Elizabeth Silver (The Execution of Noa P. Singleton), and Jamie Ford. Here's what you need to know about Jamie Ford. He wrote Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet and has a new novel coming out called Songs of Willow Frost, he wrote a great blog entry about his time at BEA, he's half-Chinese, he's totally charming, and he's hilarious. The accompanying picture is one of the few I didn't take myself, but you have to agree with me that it would have been a crime not to include a picture of this adorable guy in my blog entry. In a stroke of serendipity, they had to make my name card at the last minute and ended up using the back of a duplicate card for none other than the collection development manager of another library in North Carolina who I was hoping to catch up with. She was indeed there, so somewhere between the food and Jamie, we caught up a little bit.

All this, and we hadn't even actually made it to BEA yet. Thanks to the VIP passes we were lucky enough to land (thank you, thank you!), we zipped right through registration and made our way onto the exhibit hall. It's hard to know where to look in a place like this. It's loud, crowded, bright, and totally overwhelming. And wonderful. I could spend a long time talking about the vendors I stopped to talk to, the conversations I had on the floor with librarians and authors alike (insert Rainbow incident here), and the many, MANY galleys I hauled around on my back until I could unload them into a box for shipping back to my library. I'll spare you those details (oh, it might be too late for that). I do have to say that my one regret is that I was so caught up that I neglected to make it to Library Family Feud, which I understand is hilarious. 

Louise Penny

Bill Bryson

The next notable event, naturally, revolved around yet another an author/food event, a luncheon again sponsored by AAP.  This time we munched (what was actually a pretty good sandwich) while listening to such fantastic authors as Bill Bryson, Louise Penny (who knew she was so funny?), Lee Smith, Jayne Anne Phillips, and Koethi Zan (Koethi is a debut author, but the others have written too much to try to name here). These folks were absolutely wonderful speakers, and they genuinely seemed pleased to have a roomful of librarians and other book lovers celebrating them and their work. I was honored to get a spot at the NetGalley table (thanks Robin B.!), a table reserved for librarians participating in online discussions of upcoming books for which they've read the galleys. Lee Smith is from the part of North Carolina from which I recently moved, but I never tire of hearing her speak. I made a point to go introduce myself after the luncheon, and I was pleased to have another lovely conversation with a rock star author.

It was at this point that I could have used a nap, but Janet, being the organized one in the pair, had arranged appointments with the library marketing reps for most of the major publishers. I have to say that I was incredibly grateful to get a chance to meet with these folks. They were gracious, helpful, and interested in our perspective on what libraries and readers are looking for. Once again, I was meeting people who I'd only known by name, movers and shakers in my world, and it was fantastic to get to share information with them.

Fast forward a bit, as much of the next day or so looked quite a bit the same with the exception being that Janet had an even longer and lovelier conversation with Lee Smith in the lobby of our hotel. Okay so this is the one other picture I didn't take myself, but it's such a great one that I have to include it.

Janet and author Lee Smith

One of the fun things about such an event is sharing it with other book-lovers. We spent a

Jeffrey Deaver

good bit of time tracking down advance reader copies and other swag for friends and colleagues back home. I decided to go after an author signing by Jeffrey Deaver, as he now lives in Chapel Hill (oh, how I miss you!) and is a favorite of a librarian friend of mine. If you've ever seen the back cover of one of his books, you know that he's, well, as creepy looking as his books. But it turns out that he's really quite normal in real life, and he showered his fans with smiles as he signed his most recent release (turns out the advance copy of his upcoming novel wasn't ready yet). Authors are normal people, too. 

Tracy and Chelsea: Separated at Birth?

While Chelsea Handler probably isn't the first person who comes to mind when you think of your favorite authors, she has indeed written some very funny books and was in attendance at BEA in advance of another hilarious collection of true and not-so-true tales. Like Jeffrey Deaver, the ARC of her book was not ready in time for the event, so the creative response of her publisher was to offer pictures with Chelsea. Gee, if I'd known that, I would have prepared better.

There would be one other author rock star sighting before my time in New York was over. On the last morning of the conference, we took a cab to the conference center and stepped out, gathering our bags in haphazard fashion, finally closing the door and turning around only to find ourselves looking straight at Neil Gaiman. Alone. All by himself. Standing on the sidewalk with the wind blowing his hair around. Oh my God. Oh my God. Hands full, I began digging in my bag for my camera phone. Why do I not walk around with that in my hand? By the time I'd dropped my stuff, found my phone, opened it to the camera, and aimed, his agent/publisher/handler had arrived, and he was being scurried away quickly. Which is why the photo you see here is of them walking away. Janet got much better pics when she saw him speak later in the day. But the photo of the back of his head is mine, all mine, and you can't take that away from me.

Janet's pic, if you really need to see his face

Neil Gaiman's back

  










 


There was one author interaction that I found puzzling. Most of those food events I went to were specifically for librarians, so the authors spoke to the things they loved about librarians and libraries. One author, however, had the group rolling its eyes a bit with her description of libraries. She was, no doubt, trying to be express her appreciation for the many wonderful things libraries offer, when she described libraries as quiet places of respite. We looked at each other, trying to hide our smiles. Had she BEEN in a library recently? Libraries continue to be extraordinary places, but in today's world, quiet, they are not. This author may be a fantastic writer, but she clearly has not stepped foot in a public library full of computer users with cell phones, children's programming, reader's advisory interactions, and teen spaces. Not recently, anyway.

And so it was finally time to leave New York. It was extraordinarily exciting to have all of these authors, whose writing I love from afar, surrounding me on all sides in one huge, packed conference floor. The last generation had Woodstock. Mine has BEA.

Luxurious Me

To celebrate my birthday a few weeks ago, I dragged a friend with me to the spa for a day of pampering. If you've never done this, I highly recommend it. Really, who doesn't like having people running around you, tripping all over themselves to get you anything your heart desires? Add to that cute men giving massages and as much wine as you can drink and you've got yourself a winning combination. I've done this spa day thing for my birthday a number of times at this point, as it's hard to think much about getting older when you're being made to look and feel like a Hollywood star, but I've never brought a friend with me to join in the fun. Or keep telling me how much younger I was looking. Whichever.

So on a Saturday morning, we set off to be beautified. We were led upstairs to a waiting area, where the first thing we were asked was what we wanted for lunch. I love anything that starts out with food. That and changing into robes, since I try not to get out of my pajamas for any longer than necessary. Our first appointment was for massages. While my friend filled out some paperwork, the guy who was to do mine entertained me (it didn't take much; I'm easily entertained). Paperwork complete, I followed Rich to a dimly lit room scented with lavender while my friend took off behind her masseur, Ryan. An hour later, half asleep, it was time to get up. "But I'm not done yet, " I insisted. Unfortunately for me, he had other clients waiting, so brought me a glass of wine, led me to the sauna, and eventually left me to sweat.

I'm not entirely sure what the purpose of a sauna is. I know you're supposed to sweat. Is that it? Is there not more to it? Seems like it would dry out your skin. I love the feeling for short periods, but if God wanted me to sweat on a regular basis, he would have made me a guy. My friend joined me and immediately announced that she would be continuing to see Ryan on a regular basis. Since she's married, I'm pretty sure this meant she would be getting regular massages. Having had enough sweating, we took our robed-selves out to a waiting area. Ryan, my friend's masseuse, evidently had no one waiting, as he came out to say hello (he's done massages for me in the past) and chat a bit. Having correctly identified us as troublemakers, he spent five minutes laughing at us until we were called for our mani-pedis.

Color choice, of course, is a vital part of the "getting your nails done" experience. Admiring the color on my technician's fingernails, I settled on a deep black/purple color. I have no idea what my friend picked. I had moved on to soaking my feet, which for me personally is the best part. I'm rough on my feet, and getting all that skin softened and brushed away is almost better than the massage. Also, it's less greasy. Just as we were getting ready to paint my nails, I found myself distracted by a bottle of polish left over from the last client. Hot pink. Woo hoo! I subscribe to the philosophy that everything's better in pink. Naturally, I had no choice but to change colors. Evidently, this did not surprise my technician, as she took the bottle while trying not to laugh. Because I'm nothing if not coordinated (my mother calls it OCD), I generally like my fingernails to match my toenails, so I soon had hot pink all around. 

Never known for moving quickly anywhere, we were a bit late for lunch, served to us in a cozy hideaway behind a curtain of the spa. This was not unlike being in front of the first class cabin on an airplane, and I took a moment to feel sorry for those on the other side who were not having an entire birthday of luxury. A short moment. Lunch passed quickly, and we were soon whisked off for facials.

Facials are one of those things you don't realize you need until you actually get one. I don't know what was happening in my friends room, by my aesthetician was digging and popping and picking all over my face. She quickly soothed it with steam and smooth moisturizers. By the time I left, It felt like a film of dirt had been removed. I joined my friend to soak up the leisure for a few minutes before we got dressed and had to acknowledge that was almost time to leave. Because I'll stretch out my birthday for as long as people will let me get away with it, I asked if there was an intern available to blow out our hair (I'd been given a heads up that this might be possible). Indeed there was, so we made our way to the hair studio and seriously had our day "topped off." 

Because no birthday is complete without sugar, we left the salon to stop at a desert shop on the way to the car. Choosing some treats to go, we brought them back to my house, where my current boarder happened to be at home. "Did you go to the salon?" she asked. One hopes that a visit to the salon is generally obvious enough not to have to specify, but since it wasn't, we agreed that we had, indeed, been to the salon. We dug into our deserts and soon had to end the day of luxury.

It's not every day that I can partake in such a day of pampering, and it was only possible thanks to a birthday gift from my mom. There's no better time than your birthday to be treated like a queen.

I love miniature people!

Last week I got to meet one of the newest humans to populate the Raleigh-Durham MSA, Little Miss Harper (I think I had a book by that name when I was a kid). I used to work with Harper's mom--I still cringe at having to say the "used to" part--who allowed me to come visit her precious bundle a few days ago. Since she and I have a certain miniature-ness in common (if to varying degrees), I couldn't wait to welcome her to the world.

If there's something cuter than a newborn baby, I don't know what it is. When I arrived, Baby Harper was sleeping in Dad's lap just as you see her here, mouth open in a kind of perfect circle "oh" that can only be located on the face of a newborn baby. When I commented that I hadn't wanted to ring the doorbell so as not to wake her, her mom scoffed. "Please," she said. "I don't know why everyone's so freakin' quiet. She's a baby. She sleeps." These were the words of a mom who had been through a long week of learning the delicate rhythms of a baby's sleeping and eating patterns. Successfully, as it turns out, since here was Harper, snoozing away on her father's lap, already secure in her role as Daddy's Girl.

But Daddy generously offered to share. I took more time to make myself comfortable on the couch than my cat, Sasha, does, and Daddy handed her over to me. Not that Harper noticed. She continued to snooze, nary the wiser that she had a new protector in the world. Princess that she is, Harper has a full head of hair and is already busy trying a variety of hairstyles to see which flatter her the most (my vote is "all of them"). Some give her bangs. Some give her spikes on the top of her head. Here's a fun fact. Supposedly, babies born with a lot of hair were often the source of much heartburn for their moms (the kind that growing babies give their pregnant moms, not the kind that growing teenagers give their weary parents). Pregnant moms who have heartburn frequently inhale Tums like mountain air, and the calcium encourages hair growth in the unborn baby. Harper's hair is only the beginning of her good looks. With cheeks crying out to be squeezed, that full head of hair many women pay good money for, and a petite, 6lb figure (she STILL doesn't fit into the outfit that was to be her "going home" frock), the girl can rock a onesie.

I settled back and happily imagined ways that I might convince Harper's parents that she really belonged at my house. I love the way a newborn's head can kind of reshape into whatever position works best at the moment, flattening out one minute, pointing up a little the next. I watched Harper snooze, not even able to tear myself away when offered a slice of pizza. I needed both hands on Baby Harper, lest she, I don't know, sneezed or something. Dad sat next to me, watching with a smile on his face (HE was able to eat his pizza). Mom sat across the room, watching carefully, ever vigilant and not entirely unlike the Tiger Mother described in the well-known book of last year. Evidently, this sharing thing was only going to go so far.

Shortly before I was forced to offered to hand Harper back to her parents and give up my dream of kidnapping her before anyone could stop me, Harper's Auntie came home. Reluctantly, I handed her over and watched Auntie's face light up at being reunited with Harper. "Were they good to you?" she crooned. Harper's mom explained to me that Auntie has already been giving Harper life lessons in things like the proper use of the Internet and worthlessness that is the Gossip Girls books. Auntie takes her job very seriously.

Mom, having watched Harper make the rounds long enough, took her new daughter back and allowed me to snap some pictures and videos. Well, not so much allowed as stood still and muttered something about short people with camera phones. Through all this, Baby Harper didn't wake up once. Clearly adaptable, she has joined the world demanding all the attention that she deserves, happy to let those around her cater to her every need. Her mom reports that she does little besides eat, sleep, and require diaper changes, and really, isn't that the way it should be?