Eating barbecue with B list celebrities...

Friday afternoon my mother called me and told me Dr. Larry Fink, a professor of literature and my boss, had an extra ticket to the Boots and Books Luncheon at the Civic Center. I was not sure that I wanted to give up my Saturday sleeping in ritual, but I decided that I should go, as a career move if nothing else. In the literature world, you make the best connections at events such as this. The goal is to get your name out there, be social, and enjoy the free food.

I arrived at the door at noon, gave the my name, and searched for my table. Randomly, I ran into my ex-roommate and terrific high school friend, Becky. I believe Becky, her cousins, and I were the only people under the age of thirty there. I stood in line with Dr. Fink and his wife to get food-- barbecue, potatoes, iced tea...typical Texas entree-- and I was like a little kid in a candy store. There I was, thinking "What am I doing here?", when I turned around in line to see Naomi Shihab Nye (one of my all-time favorite poets) behind me. I tugged on Dr. Fink's sleeve and I said, "Naomi Nye is behind me, oh my gosh!", and he just laughed. It truly was like a red-carpet star sighting for me. Sandra Brown spoke; she has written more than 50 New York Times Bestsellers, and she is currently the #1 New York Times Bestselling Author. Walt McDonald was there. Novelist Stephen Harrigan talked about his book, "Gates of the Alamo". Charlie Waters, former Dallas Cowboy 1970-1982 and All-Star Football Player who played in five Super Bowls, also spoke about his book. It was a terrific luncheon and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Great food, awesome music (provided by the HSU Cowboy Band), and incredible company-- it's always refreshing to be surrounded by people who love and are passionate about the things you are; it creates some sort of spark. My friend Ashley would say, "It's magic!"

After the speakers finished, there was a book signing in a different room. I immediately got up from the table and walked into the bigger conference room, looking for the "lady in red"--aka Naomi Shihab Nye. I found her and approached her saying, "Mrs. Nye...I saw you last year when you read at Hardin-Simmons. I talked to you for a while after your reading about a children's series I am working on with a friend." After asking me how to spell my name, she remembered me. I told her that I had received several of her books for Christmas and I explained how much I enjoy a book she edited and compiled called "What Have You Lost". She seemed thrilled that I knew her work so well, and I told her I had talked to Dr. Bob Fink about contacting her with some questions on publication and children's literature. Then, she actually ripped up an envelope and wrote her e-mail address on it, telling me to contact her with any questions I may have along the way. Buh?! I was floored and a bit awe-struck, though I did try to hide it. I know, I am a nerd...a huge nerd.

I feel like the luncheon was well worth not sleeping past 9:30 for. I also met a publisher from Georgetown who is interested in looking at the manuscript for "I Want to be a Singer, but Mrs. Humphrey Says I Can't Sing." Excitement!

The rest of the day was pretty much a wash...nothing too exciting. I went to the library for the rest of the afternoon; I came home and did some editing; I went to a friend's birthday party and had several virgin pina colada's and one chocolate chip cookie; I came home and washed my dog; I talked to Michael and Danielle after they finished "Mean Girls"; I made everyone BBC's (see previous blog entry for recipe); I layed with Michael on the floor laughing at SNL, which in retrospect was not that funny; I decided it was a good idea to go to Whataburger at midnight; I slept long and hard. Today it's just homework and more homework and coffee with Rachel later. I leave you with a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye:

"Hidden"

If you place a fern
under a stone
the next day it will be
nearly invisible
as if the stone has
swallowed it.

If you tuck the name of a loved one
under your tongue too long
without speaking it
it becomes blood
sigh
the little sucked-in breath of air
hiding everywhere
beneath your words.

No one sees
the fuel that feeds you.