BookExpo America Part 1
BEA: BookExpo America is happenning. It’s the American Bookseller’s Association Convention, and it’s at the DC Convention Center right now. I thought I would be really excited about it, but I’m really bogged down in schoolwork this week, and every minute I’m not trying to catch up with all my responsibilities, I feel guilty. So there are plenty of important bookseller things to do… like, you know, PARTIES.
One more thing that ruins it for me is: I was going to get to see my girlfriend. She is on a school break, and she was planning to attend the convention. Now her Aunt has died, and she’s being dragged to the funeral in Delaware. It’s Friday and Saturday. My two days off, and the two main days of the convention. Gentle reader, I do care what you think, but you’ll have to allow me to vent some hot air here. I make no guarantees as to its accuracy: They all knew she had cancer. She has survived a lot longer than they expected. You can die any day, but we’ve known about this career-related event for more than a year now. I don’t think Christina was close to her aunt, her Grandparents are taking her along, and I would have expected her to say “have a nice time”, but she probably feels obligated to go. While I wouldn’t suggest an opportunistic, cynical sponging off the good graces of others, I would suggest casting off relationships that only drain away your vital energy to scant purpose. Never an easy calculus.
Becuase I can’t see Christina, and because we will now NEVER go to BEA together, I feel really bummed. It was not such a powerful dream, but I’m already letting go of it, and the convention just got here. It could be a cultural smorgasbord with delights at every turn, but that’s just too damn bad. I want to be able to pause parts of my life and return to them when I take care of other business, but that’s not possible. I’m less interested in everything all of the sudden.
I got my very own badge, so I plan to spend some time tomorrow walking the floor. I’m hoping to find it fascinating. But as I pause a moment to turn inward, here is what I find out about myself: It’s too late. I love books, I would probably rather spend the time reading. I don’t see my future in a bookstore. The past eleven years I’ve been working in the office of my bookstore. I’m even worried there is no future in bookstores - at least, not in bookstores as I know them. I’ve gone way past my loss of innocence. I can avoid being bitter by moving on to the next thing. And, that reminds me: What is the next thing for me? I have some clues, I’m collecting scraps of what I will need to get there, but I’m still quite lost.
Posted by Evan Bittner Thu, 18 May 2006 16:48:00 GMT
