My First Book Festival - AKA Let's Talk About The Weather

You probably already know this, but you might need a reminder. Here is a nugget of truth: weather can be unpredictable. I've lived in a lot of places in my life and everyone everywhere thinks their climate is the most changeable compared to other places. Even in Arizona, the home of desert heat 300 days out the year, people think the weather is wild. I've learned not to comment when the topic turns to temperatures, rain or possibilities of snow. It quickly turns into a boring conversation I must flee. I also rarely plan ahead based on weather forecasts. Nothing is more annoying than lugging around an unneeded umbrella in the blazing heat when just accepting I might get wet from a rain shower is a heck of a lot easier.

 Knowing my general lackadaisical weather attitude, it should be no surprise that I didn't check the weather in the days before yesterday, my first book festival. Last week was glorious in Iowa City, IA. I wore t-shirts and shorts as I worked on painting our front door fire engine red and I considered taking pictures of the neighborhood squirrels that are highly active right now, getting their last thrills in before winter comes. Beautiful, early fall weather all the way around. I was unconcerned days before the book festival when I received a series of ominous emails warning the forecast was predicting cold temperatures. When one email said the organizers were going to have unlimited hot chocolate available all day to vendors, I jokingly sent an email back saying I would provide mini-marshmallows because everyone knows hot chocolate isn't real without baby marshmallows. I should have been tipped off when I instantly received a reply thanking me for my understanding and support. Hmmm.......nope. Not me. I live in weather cluelessness land.

The Iowa City Book Festival is unusual (I think? I haven't gone to any others so I have no idea) in that it is spread out over several days and events take place in multiple locations all over downtown. During the festival, authors give talks in the public library, coffee shops, bookstores, cafe's, clothing stores, pretty much any place chairs can be squeezed in so rapt listeners can relax while an author explains the awesomeness of their books. Between non-stop author's presentations scattered here and there, is a lovely tree-lined pedestrian mall where all the book publishers, retailers and authors set up tents to hawk their wares. Nothing is nicer than buying a book under the cover of gently falling autumn leaves. So pretty and serene.

 Friday, the first full day of the book festival was chilly in Iowa City. Something about an arctic air mass swooping down from Canada dropped the temperatures a bit, but I was able to get another coat of paint on our front door, so I wasn't worried. I didn't go to the festival on Friday since I was going to be there all day the next day. Saturday morning arrived and I realized it was going to be a lot colder than I expected. I pulled on my warm leggings and layered a few shirts on. I am a weather ignorer, not a weather denyer. I don't fret over what might happen but I am good at adapting to present conditions. Important distinction, I think.

Rob and I went downtown early in the morning to find out where the author's tent was going to be and to get the lay of the land for the day. I realized I needed to up my game. It was freaking cold outside! The radio weatherman said it was barely in the in 30's and with the windchill factored in, down into the 20's. That is below freezing. Yikes! We came home and I dug out winter gloves, a scarf, a heavier coat, and a blanket. I also went to the store and bought hot chocolate and mini-marshmallows because I realized maybe the book festival organizers were right about how cold it was going to be that day. I wanted a jug of hot juice with me just in case.

When we got to the author's tables with our warmer clothes, I felt confident that as the morning sun fully came out, things would warm up nicely. I actually had a pang of regret, thinking I might have overreacted to the coldness and probably wouldn't need the warm blanket at all. When one of the other authors's showed up in a full-on head to ankle fur-lined arctic coat, I thought she was a touch hysterical.

 I was to be proven so, so wrong.

Where I was placed, alongside a band of intrepid, strong-minded authors who didn't complain a bit about the ferocious winds and icicles forming off the front of our noses, was in a weird pocket of high pedestrian traffic and a complete wind tunnel. I haven't been that cold since the time I good-naturedly agreed to participate in an overnight winter camp out in knee deep snow and my son packed a child-sized sleeping bag for me that I couldn't get into past my thighs. I spend the night huddled in a single pup-tent listening to the howling winter winds, praying I would survive until sun up so I could get the h-e-double-hockey sticks out of there. The book festival was a strong second to that miserable night in the wilderness.

What made it even worse was that I was surrounded by grown ups who refused to complain. On the one hand, they were absolutely correct. Talking about the weather wasn't going to change it. And if the only thing we discussed for 7 hours was how windy and cold it was, I would have lost my mind. On the other hand, The Emperor Has NO Clothes, people! Can't we all acknowledge this event was a death march to frozen popsicle land? Nope. Instead we sat and talked about our books and writing and the stories behind our creations. I learned about the process of publishing children's books, the plight of the downwardly mobile homeless population, a fictionalized college town with sordid secrets and what steam-punk literature is. Who knew there was such a thing as Victorian-era science fiction? I gotta get out more. I also got to watch people make book marks on an antique ink press from the olden days, when each book page was type set and smashed between two metal plates by hand. I will never complain about the price of books again. Making a book the old-fashioned way was insanely hard. God bless technology.

Oh yeah, I actually sold books, too. Can you believe it? We book authors, publishers and sellers were not the only wing-nuts outside on the coldest day in the universe. People actually came and talked to us and bought our books. How crazy is that?

Here the proof: undoctored photos that clearly show the good, the bad and the ugly. I will point out the more atrocious parts in each picture so you don't miss a thing.

A happy customer adding my book to his collection. How nice! Notice the 2 gallon thermos of hot chocolate, along side a bag of mini-marshmallows and a clear box of fun-sized chocolates? I am all about customer service. PS. At one point, the min-Snickers candy bars froze solid. No lie.

Forget me in the middle. Notice the lady to the far right. Arctic coat lady. She was by far, the smartest author at the book festival. She talked with big words and was prepared for a day on the frozen tundra. Me, I was more worried about my hair. How stupid. 

Me as warm as I was gonna get, which wasn't much. Notice the bricks on the books in front of the author next to me? Yep. It was so windy the books kept blowing off the tables. In the far right of the photo is a camera crew filming people as they tested newly developed software that helps authors with writing block. Very cool stuff. I was too cold to care.