A Report from BEA

“Wear sensible shoes.” That was the advice my good friend, bookseller Kelly Justice of the Fountain Bookstore gave me when I asked about Book Expo America. Or BEA as those in “the know” refer to it.

This is my first BEA. I followed Kelly’s shoe instructions and I’m glad I have. The gathering of booksellers, publishers, vendors, and writers is like a fifty ring circus on steroids. We fill NYC’s Javits Center; make it roar with excitement about books. The comings and goings rival the busiest airport.  Someone saw “Dr. Noah Drake.” I missed him. I was too busy ogling Nelson DeMille or looking for Condi Rice or reining in my romance-writing friends for a quick hug of hi and good-bye as we passed each other in the aisles.

A huge crowd had gathered in one booth. I was certain they were listening to a famous personality. Nope. The gathering was for a new computerized ordering system. The celebs will have to move over.

The booksellers and librarians are from everywhere—Bermuda, Germany, Brooklyn, Washington State. BEA is about networking, learning, educating.  I sat on a panel sponsored by the American Library Association that also featured publishing whiz Carrie Feron, Vice President and Editorial Director of Avon Books. The interest in what we are saying is keen and genuine although watches are being checked. There is too much to do and see to waste a moment. 

BEA is exciting, vital, and joyously overwhelming.

So this evening, I switched gears and was the guest of the Dongan Hills Branch of the New York Public Library in Staten Island. It’s blessedly quiet, although busy. When I arrive, every computer is in use. Tutoring sessions are going on in two corners of the building. The librarians are setting up for my presentation and there is a steady stream of patrons checking out books before heading home.

The librarian chaperoning me asks about BEA. Her director has spent the day there. (Perhaps our paths have crossed?) She’d reported a rumor from BEA that the city is considering closing sixteen library branches in Brooklyn. I’d heard that as well. My chaperone is concerned but unsurprised…a decision will be made about Staten Island on Wednesday. She hopes they don’t close any.  I agree.

Anyone who has heard my schtick knows that a program on writing sponsored by my local library set me on the path to becoming a published author. Everything I have today—my career, my children’s future, this life I love so much—sprang from that event. Looking around at the activity in the Dongan Hills library on a Wednesday night, I see people putting a library to work for them.

Even though there is a waiting list to check out my books, my talk isn’t well attended. We are in the first sunny week in months. My chaperone rounds up two people to hear me speak. They are a Tibetan mother who isn’t confident of her English and her bright, inquisitive fourth-grade daughter who has plenty of questions for me. And I have questions for her. (Her favorite books are mysteries. Yes, her brother reads but he won’t join us. He had his nose stuck in a comic book. “It is all he reads,” she said with disdain—although she likes them, too.) 

And I am struck at how instrumental this library is to the life and well-being of this family. Even though she doesn’t speak English, the mother understands: Libraries are about building a strong future, for individuals and for this country. It’s a concept BEA celebrates…and one I hope local governments do as well.