Seen & Heard at BEA 2009--The Preview Edition

As you walk through the airport concourse upon arrival, you can spot the "book people." Just as you think you're imagining this, you see another one coming your way. It turns out to be somebody you know. And when you look in the rest room mirror to check on your own post-flight status, a book person stares back at you bleary-eyed. You're not surprised. Or disappointed.

Waiting in the lengthy registration line at your hotel (hoping, as usual, to score an early check-in time), you recall thinking that this was going to be the year you opted for a room at a hotel that wasn't full of book show attendees, just so you could avoid the gridlock that is inevitable when every guest in the place is running on the same schedule for arrivals, departures, elevator use and taxi stalking.

At one of Thursday's educational programs, a panelist says, "If your business isn't (fill in the blank), you're falling behind the curve by missing a great opportunity that is not only crucial to your success, but maybe even your survival in the evolving marketplace."

You are forced to acknowledge that a) your company isn't (fill in the blank) yet and b) you have never heard of (fill in the blank) until this moment. You feel guilty, take notes and wonder when you'll ever find the time to (fill in the blank).

At every panel you attend, many people are staring down at their laps--as if in silent prayer--rather than at the panelists. If you are not one of those texting or tweeting, you may feel like you're missing something. Don't worry. As public officials are fond of saying during disasters, "There is no cause for alarm at this time." Just listen to the panelists. You'll be fine . . . at this time.

You know that an orderly mob always gathers on Friday morning for the official opening bell at BEA, so you strategically delay your arrival until the show has been going for 15 or 20 minutes. A three-day event is neither an Oklahoma Land Rush nor a blue light special. That's your theory.

Just as planned, by the time you arrive the early crowd has dispersed through the entry funnel, but already a few people, overburdened as pack mules, exit the show with their first load of biblioswag. Their shoulders droop beneath the weight of tote bags filled with ARCs and bookmarks and myriad freebies. For them, it is a blue light special moment.

You experience several embarrassing cases of badge dysfunction. The two most common manifestations are:

• The Twist--a badge hanging around the neck of someone you know, but whose name escapes you, has flipped over and you must find a dozen ways during the conversation to project familiarity without actually naming names.
• The Hip Check--too many people inexplicably pin their badges to a belt loop, which compels you to stare, however briefly, at their, shall we say, "mid-section region."

Somebody complains about the food options at a BEA Book & Author breakfast, as if food were remotely the point.

A person of indeterminate sex, height and weight, dressed in the colorful garb of an unfamiliar cartoon character of indeterminate species, approaches you and says, in a happy (if unintentionally creepy) voice, "Would you like to read a new book about me?"

You're in conversation with someone at an after-show party. Suddenly they look through you as if your head has become transparent. "I'll be right there," they yell cheerily. Then they politely end the conversation with you while appearing to resist saying, "Awright, move it along, show's over." Don't take this personally.

On Sunday morning, exhausted and footsore, you opt for room service. You wonder if you should tip, despite the 18% gratuity charge on the check. You tip anyway. Munching on a piece of cool, soggy toast, you sit on the edge of your bed, staring in awe at the stacks of ARCs you have accumulated in just two days. What were you thinking? You'll need another suitcase. Time to sort, prioritize and, regrettably, discard. The hotel staff will definitely get an advance look at this fall's list.

You wait in line in front of your hotel for a cab. NYC tip: walk a block away from your hotel in any direction, raise your arm and the cab will find you.

Soon, you won't be surrounded by all these book people and, quite suddenly, you will miss that feeling . . . until next year.