I love it when a plan comes together.
Oh all right, all right – there may be a plan, but its execution isn’t mine. This stuff doesn’t happen without the unsung heroes in the books department, without the publisher, without the fantastic triple bill of the boys themselves, and without Sharon Ring who rounded up the critical mass of bloggers and brought them in for the night.
And what a night.
From Adam’s cherry flavoured e-cig to the threat to shave Mark’s head, from China’s choice of entry music (check Mark’s blog for this one) to the winding–fractal queues (suitably squid-like in fact) that coiled across the floor… this was an evening that coalesced flawlessly. Yes, there were books and there were buyers, there were writers and there were readers – but there was also that fantastic, spontaneous combustion of friendliness and badinage that brings tradition down in flames and builds something Phoenix-like (see what I did there?) out of the ashes of what has gone before.
Question: why do people feel they can @celebs on twitter? Because it’s an even field; when you look at your screen, at your choice of app, Stephen Fry has exactly the same 140-character slot as your next mate down. Suddenly, if you wish it, he’s approachable.
So: we’re breaking tables. Their absence removes emotional barriers, social barriers – barriers that divide an author from their readership, and that readership from each other. Queues formulate readers into ceremonial silence.
And don’t we want to shout about the books we love?
Once again, I return to the sense of community – and the multiple subsequent posts I’ve seen about this event all celebrate the same song. We met our friends and we shared something that mattered.
Yes, we might read a book alone (though if it’s ‘Apartment 16′ you might want the light on) – but being able to share that book, not only with your friends, but with the author that wrote it, really matters.
Thank you to everybody who came down and made that event what it was. I only work there ☺
(The image is Krakencome by Nycopterus. Sadly, my iPhone takes lousy photos. That’s what I tell myself anyway)…