Los Angeles Times Festival of Books 2005
Dear Readers,
You have no idea....no idea whatsoever. I am so happy. The L.A.Times Festival of Books has been going on for...I think a decade now...and I had never gone before this year. I've been wanting to go for at least 5 or 6 years...as long as I've known about it. Each year, without fail, something would come up and I'd miss it. Or, I'd remember halfway through Sunday that this was indeed the weekend of the Festival.
For weeks on end (I'm sure the people around me got really sick of me talking about it) I've been talking about how much I wanted to go and how THIS YEAR I was going FOR SURE. I mean, come on - me, BOOKS...what additional explanation do you need? This is the biggest literary event in America, my friends.
[More:]
On Friday, I checked the forecast...rain showers on Saturday
afternoon. Sadness! You can't look at books at an outdoor festival in
the I spent the night at a friends house Friday night. I woke up
early on Saturday so I could make it back to my place, shower, change,
and then double back for the festival (the sleepover wasn't planned).
The sky was gray and sad. I got home and checked the weather again.
Still rain. I didn't want to waste gas driving 40 miles to the festival
(80 miles round trip) to be rained out. So I stayed home.
It didn't rain at all on Saturday.
Needless to say, I was very upset. I set my alarm for 6 am for
Sunday morning. This would give me an hour to work out (I still haven't
hung out with my pal Billy Blanks!), eat a solid breakfast, and head
out to the festival to arrive an hour before the shindig even started
(gotta get good parking).
Bad sign number one - I woke up and remembered that my roommate's
brother was sleeping over in our living room...no workout for me (sorry
billy!). Bad sign number two - what's that sound I hear? Oh yeah,
that's the sound of POURING RAIN. What the hell? Was this some sort
of joke? I believed in that moment that God really was real and that
he really did hate me. I shed a tear or two, there in my lonely bed.
I pulled it together eventually, showered, grabbed my umbrella and set
out with a plan.
The plan was that if it rained I would just sit in my car until it
passed. At least then I would be at the festival when (IF) it wasn't
raining. At least I would have tried. But hark! The skies opened up as
I sped down the 10 freeway. I got to UCLA with half an hour to spare. I
got excellent parking...things were looking up.
I stood in line for stand-by tickets (Ticketmaster was "sold out" of
the free tickets to the indoor events within the first couple of
days). I ended up getting tickets to everything I wanted. What luck!
I began to peruse the booths. A black man called me and another
black lady over and told us we should support him and buy his book. Oh
Jolly. I didn't buy it though...I wasn't interested. I did, however,
lie and say I would come back. And then the free stuff started. I'm
such a whore for free literature. Postcards and fliers and pamphlets,
oh my!
I
went to the Target Children's Stage area and some lady gave me a free
Sunday LA Times. I perused the booths, and since it was JUST 10am
(when the event officially started) then, the crowd was thin and I was
the only person that I could see in the children's area who didn't have
a child. I felt weird, so I hightailed it to the next area. So many
booths. Booths and booths and booths. I picked up all kinds of crap
left and write. "Fuel for the fire," as my mom calls it (my mom says
if my place ever catches on fire I will burn quickly because I have so
many papers and books).
This guy practically forced a free book on me. I went to the C-Span
table and got a free bag. I signed up for the UCLA events mailing list
and they have me a HUGE book on French art for FREE. That thing is
heavy!! I picked up catalogs for all kinds of things.
Truly,
I was so happy that I wanted to cry. A tear almost fell from my eye at
one point. One person shouldn't be allowed to be so happy. I'm all
choked up just thinking about it.
Am I a lit whore or what?
Oh and then, these meditation people had free books. Oh, and the
Buddhists had a booth where everything was free...I snagged two books
from them. I talked to a lovely Weezer-like guy at the Cal Arts
booth. At the Black Issues Book Review booth, I paid 10 bucks for a
year long subscription and picked up 5 additional issues for free that
they had at their table.
I
passed this Canadian booth and one of the chef waved me over furiously,
then autographed and handed me a HUGE cookbook. Thanks Canadians!
Then, at the Bess Press Hawaiian booth, they gave me a free necklace.
I had to take a break. This was too much. I got carne asada and
lemonade. The carne asada was good and the lemonade was just about the
best Ive ever had. The stuff I was holding was too heavy. I walked
back to my car and dumped everything off. I practically skipped back
for round two.
There
were so many booths I had missed. More free literature! I talked to
some anarchists and commies. Visited with some hippies. Smiled at the
lesbians holding hands. Watched a small child lose his balloon. The
Christians gave out Bibles, but I have enough of those (no really, I
do. Like 5 or something like that). And then I discovered the literary
booths. The county and city libraries were there along with a couple
of literacy groups and a representative of the independent bookstores
of Southern California. I had a short dialog with him. I got another
$10 year long subscription to Mother Jones magazine...it came with a
free issue and a free tote bag.
I
have no idea how many mailing lists I signed up for. I ended up not
making it to anything I got tickets for. By two I was wiped out. My
mom came up, but decided since it was almost over, so we basically met
and walked around Westwood for a bit. Of course, I had to show her my
goods. While we were out, I got this nifty tote bag that says "Recycle
Reduce Reuse." I love tote bags!
It
was seriously such a great day. And this is probably the longest entry
I've written in this blog thus far. I couldn't take pictures while I
was there because my arms were full the whole time. Instead, you get
stills of (some of) the stuff I accumulated)
yay for me. yay for books!
I can't wait until next year!
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