Packed into the United terminal at LaGuardia, waiting to flythe friendly skies back to Denver.
After bidding au reservoir to my lunch companions on BEA Saturday, once more I zoomed around to as many booths as possible. There were all sorts of educational and intellectual programs going on, but I bailed in favor of giving publishers the one-two punch: press kit for VaBook Festival followed by shiny! new! press kit for Book Promotion 101.
I was supposed to meet a workshop alum at the Sounds True booth at 4, then an author I'd been corresponding with at the Chelsea Green booth at 5, where I was also meeting up again with Digby Diehl. The alum had to leave, but kindly left a note for me with a mutual acquaintance. Then, even though we were probably spitting distance away, the author and I missed each other at 5. We were both too tired and punchy to think of whipping out our cell phones. And so it goes.
I told Digby that I'd go with him to a party, then went to Darling Husband's booth to wait. But as soon as I sat down, it was all over for me. My voice was completely shot, my feet, back and neck were killing me, and all I could think about was lying down. NFW I was going to any more parties, I announced to DH, then told Digby the same via cellphone. (He wound up at some fabu publisher party at Buddha Bar. I wasn't even envious.)
Whereupon DH, his colleague Sharon and I trudged many hot, hard and sweaty blocks to our hotel, as of course the taxi line at the Javits was horrific. (Never have I loathed the mall-ified Times Square and its clustering hordes of tourists so intensely.) Following a shower and the briefest lie-down, we went off to dinner with Sharon at Victor's Cafe Cuban restaurant (more mojitos, yay!), after which I was in bed with lights out by 10:05. God, I'm getting old, I thought in the 15 seconds before I lost consiousness.
After 9 hours of sleep, I woke up a helluva lot perkier on Sunday morning than I did on Friday or Saturday. Go figure. Then I zoomed around publishers' booths again till it was time to catch the shuttle bus to LaGuardia--which I did by the skin of my teeth, whilst pulling two wheeled suitcases containing my personal effects plus some 50 lbs of printed matter.
But BEA still wasn't over once I got on the plane, 'cause most of the way back I gabbed with EllynAnne Geisel, author of The Apron Book, who was sitting in the seat in front of me. Eventually, her husband switched seats with me so we could talk across the aisle instead of twisting over the top of EllynAnne's seat.
Next day, when I sifted through the 120+ business cards I'd collected, I realized that I'd never gotten to any booths in the lower level of the Javits. C'est la vie...
In addition to books and business cards, I also brought home a nasty respiratory virus that knocked me out for more than a week. (I'm still tired and slightly gloppy 3 weeks later.) At least I had plenty of time to start reading the many ARCs I snagged.
I was supposed to meet a workshop alum at the Sounds True booth at 4, then an author I'd been corresponding with at the Chelsea Green booth at 5, where I was also meeting up again with Digby Diehl. The alum had to leave, but kindly left a note for me with a mutual acquaintance. Then, even though we were probably spitting distance away, the author and I missed each other at 5. We were both too tired and punchy to think of whipping out our cell phones. And so it goes.
I told Digby that I'd go with him to a party, then went to Darling Husband's booth to wait. But as soon as I sat down, it was all over for me. My voice was completely shot, my feet, back and neck were killing me, and all I could think about was lying down. NFW I was going to any more parties, I announced to DH, then told Digby the same via cellphone. (He wound up at some fabu publisher party at Buddha Bar. I wasn't even envious.)
Whereupon DH, his colleague Sharon and I trudged many hot, hard and sweaty blocks to our hotel, as of course the taxi line at the Javits was horrific. (Never have I loathed the mall-ified Times Square and its clustering hordes of tourists so intensely.) Following a shower and the briefest lie-down, we went off to dinner with Sharon at Victor's Cafe Cuban restaurant (more mojitos, yay!), after which I was in bed with lights out by 10:05. God, I'm getting old, I thought in the 15 seconds before I lost consiousness.
After 9 hours of sleep, I woke up a helluva lot perkier on Sunday morning than I did on Friday or Saturday. Go figure. Then I zoomed around publishers' booths again till it was time to catch the shuttle bus to LaGuardia--which I did by the skin of my teeth, whilst pulling two wheeled suitcases containing my personal effects plus some 50 lbs of printed matter.
But BEA still wasn't over once I got on the plane, 'cause most of the way back I gabbed with EllynAnne Geisel, author of The Apron Book, who was sitting in the seat in front of me. Eventually, her husband switched seats with me so we could talk across the aisle instead of twisting over the top of EllynAnne's seat.
Next day, when I sifted through the 120+ business cards I'd collected, I realized that I'd never gotten to any booths in the lower level of the Javits. C'est la vie...
In addition to books and business cards, I also brought home a nasty respiratory virus that knocked me out for more than a week. (I'm still tired and slightly gloppy 3 weeks later.) At least I had plenty of time to start reading the many ARCs I snagged.
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