The Exhibits I Waited 800 Years to See

Me and the most important men of letters of Spain

I wrote Our Lady's Troubadour for Alfonso X's 800th birthday. I was largely under the impression that most celebrations had been canceled or curtailed by the pandemic. But, wonder of wonders, the two most appropriate institutions in Spain recently had exhibits in honor of this grand anniversary. 

The exhibits were appropriate because Alfonso was the Learned King, and the exhibits were of his books: the books he had his scholars research, write, lay out, and decorate in his court, and which he would've inspected to make sure they were to his standard and then left for future generations in his testament. Those books. 

The places housing the exhibits were appropriate because they're the two most important libraries in Spain. Even the humblest of libraries is a temple of learning. These buildings, with their grandeur and special designs for preserving and honoring books, are cathedrals of learning. 

My new knight in shining armor and I have been crazy busy, but when I saw that these once-in-a-millennium exhibits were about to end, we made a special trip, right around Valentine's Day. Books = Love. 

First, "The Books of the Wise King" at the National Library of Spain in Madrid. 

That illuminated A... I would wear a shirt with that on it! 

The mask keeps the drool from hitting the glass cases. 😉 Yours truly with the To codex of the Cantigas de Santa Maria. 

Just flipping out with a display of the E codex Cantigas presentation miniature. I'm practically in Alfonso's colorful court! 

What we all came for right up front: the To codex of the Cantigas de Santa Maria, produced at the court of Alfonso X and personally approved by the king. With about 100 cantigas, it's considered to be the first part of a project that just kept growing. 

I can't emphasize enough that these books are deluxe and that it's a miracle we can decipher the musical notation today and enjoy these beautiful songs. The manuscript is open to Cantiga 37, a miracle about a man whose foot hurt so much he cut it off. The foot was replaced when he asked St. Mary for help.

The greatest law treatise of Alfonso's court, the Siete Partidas, this time in a copy for Queen Isabel I. I studied this and other law treatises for my doctoral dissertation. The confidence and clarity with which these scholars wrote in a language that had only been written down officially for about fifty years is stunning. 

The other great law treatise, the Especulo, predecessor of the Siete Partidas, in a copy from the fourteenth century, which is the only medieval copy the National Library has.

A beautiful codex of the Fuero Real, a royally sanctioned municipal law code. This one was granted to Valladolid in 1255, just three years into Alfonso's reign. 

Display of the presentation miniatures of a codex of the first Partida that is held in the British Library. I'd only ever seen black-and-white reproductions before. Unlike traditional medieval European presentation miniatures, instead of a scribe presenting a completed book to the person who asked for it to be copied (usually a king), here King Alfonso dictates the contents of the book and looks overhead at the book's inspiration and eventual recipient: God. 

Display of the presentation miniature from a History of Spain codex from about 1280. The king tells his historians what to write and points to his heir, Sancho, who will become Sancho IV. 

The General History was meant to be a history of the world from ancient times to the thirteenth century (their present day), but only made it to the first century AD before Alfonso's death cut the project short. This massive codex is from the royal scriptorium, about 1270, and is only the first part.

A closeup of the beautifully legible text (you can't become learned if you can't read the texts) about the lineages of Jacob, General History.

Display of the beautiful colophon of the Book of the Canons, an astronomy treatise. The red and blue part reads, "Here ends the book of the canons the most noble King Don Alfonso ordered to be written. May God grant him life and good health for a long time."

The Book of the Crosses, an astrology treatise from 1259, signed by its translators, Yehuda ben Mose ha-Kohen and Juan de Aspa.

The Complete Book on Scrutiny of the Stars, about 1254.

The Tablas Alfonsies were astronomical measurements taken at Toledo for Alfonso X between 1263 and 1274, and were used by scholars all over the known world for hundreds of years thereafter. This manuscript is from Paris, about 1320.

A History of Spain from the beginning of the fourteenth century (after Alfonso's death).

Finally, a feminine touch: Queen Isabel II, who helped found the National Library. 

Out front, twentieth-century statues of the greats of Spanish literature. Here, Vives (father of psychology) and Nebrija (who wrote the first Spanish dictionary, 1492). 

Lope de Vega and Miguel de Cervantes, who I suppose don't need further introduction. 

Isidore of Seville, a Visigoth (c. 560 - 636) who takes pride of place here because he wrote Latin Etymologies that have been an important reference ever since.

And the star of all learning, Alfonso X, el Sabio. 

This statue exercises a particular attraction on this book nerd. In his hand, he holds a sheet from the Siete Partidas. It was probably hard to decide which branch of learning to represent with this medieval  Renaissance man. 

Mario and I walked back to where we'd parked through most of monumental Madrid. It's such a wonderful place to visit! Here I am with another statue of Cervantes across from the congress building. 

The very next morning, we headed to El Escorial in the mountains around Madrid for "Codices of the Wise King."

The monastery of El Escorial was built for Felipe II according to Neo-Classical architectural principles of reason, proportion, and balance. It has the most important manuscript library in Spain. 

I liked that my mask had the same image on it! 

This exhibit was, if possible, even more mind-blowing because all the manuscripts were from the court of Alfonso X, books the king himself would have touched and marveled at (or possibly pointed out the flaws in), including the E and T codices of the Cantigas de Santa Maria, which obviously I have some affection for. 

In the beautiful library, a veritable temple of learning. Absolutely electrifying! But at the library of El Escorial, they never allow photos. So you'll have to take my word for it. 

This was as close as I got before they started yelling not to take photos. I really think it should be apparent that I am not there to harm the books in any way, shape, or form. 

I'd like to note that the ceiling of the library is painted with symbols of all the branches of learning. Alfonso X appears in the section for astronomy, with a tablet and an astrolabe. 

Mario and I spent a good hour and half poring over the exhibit of nine manuscripts, so we got our money's worth. 

The gift shop had many beautiful items with cantigas and Book of Chess designs on them, and of course I nabbed a few. 

Back in the car, we decided on a strategy for lunch, and suddenly the whole couple of days came crashing down, and I sobbed with the emotion. Yes, it meant that much to me to see these books in person. With someone who encouraged my passion, no less. 

I don't always weep with gratitude, but this occasion certainly merited it. 
 

The Fourth Largest Book Festival in the United States

Partial view of the Tucson Festival of Books from the second floor
of the student union 

Only the fourth largest? In its eighth year and looking forward to the ninth, the Tucson Festival of Books sees more than 130,000 visitors over two days, with hundreds of workshops and exciting author events.

This year has been my third time at the festival, but the first time I enjoyed it as a reader only. In 2011, I was pushing my own boundaries by volunteering to run some events at the festival, and in 2012, I volunteered and helped out at the Fireship Press booth. Unforgettably wonderful experiences, yes. But the freedom of being able to do what I wanted (and especially to get out of the burning sunlight whenever necessary) combined with showing my mother around the festival—she bought a wondrous quantity of books—to create bookish bliss.

Mystery authors J. A. Jance, Margaret Coel, and Anne Hillerman
at Southwest Women of Mystery 

First, we attended a panel called "Southwest Women of Mystery" in a ballroom that can hold 640, and it was packed. I'm not too current on mysteries, so I had no idea these authors were so popular. Rightly so. Each author displayed a great sense of humor as well as adventure while they discussed their research, the Southwest, and the way their work is received in Native American communities. I ended the hour with huge respect for all of them.

The Fireship Press booth, with Loose Leaves titles visible 

The Writers Studio Tucson booth with festivalgoers and bright sunlight 

We used some free time after the the first event to visit my friends and associates at the Fireship Press and Writers Studio Tucson booths. Both are Tucson literary institutions not to be missed if you are a reader or a writer.

Next my mother and I had tickets for a session titled "Star Wars, the Shannara Chronicles, and Outlander: From Book to Screen and Back." If I thought the first event was packed, I stood corrected at this one. Everyone in the state of Arizona wanted to hear this talk. Under any other circumstances, Terry Brooks (author of the Shannara Chronicles) and Chuck Wendig (author of a ton of great stuff, including the novelization of The Phantom Menace) could fill a stadium by themselves. But they were sharing a panel with someone who commanded every reader's rapt attention. When Diana Gabaldon is in the room, anyone else is forgotten.

Terry Brooks, the moderator, and Chuck Wendig wait to the side of
Diana Gabaldon's celebrity. 

Diana Gabaldon graciously humors one of her many admirers. 

Diana Gabaldon's approach to the event was a study in literary celebrity. When she appeared from the ready room, the auditorium applauded. Then, as regal as you please, she walked slowly down the aisles, allowing the masses to take her picture as she processed. It wasn't over when she went to stand next to her copanelists. That was when the queue formed for taking selfies with the famous author. Festival volunteers had to call and end to it so the panel could actually start.

Diana Gabaldon talked about the Starz adaptation of her Outlander series, Terry Brooks shared his experience with the brand new adaptation of his Shannara Chronicles, and Chuck Wendig discussed his graphic novel Star Wars adaptations, thus the "From Book to Screen and Back" title. I adore Chuck Wendig's general wisdom and appreciated the practical way he answered an audience question about film rights. Upshot: make sure you get paid for all your rights. Terry Brooks was amazing, too, with his quips about the adaptation process and a striptease that ended at a T-shirt reading "The book was better." Diana Gabaldon got the most questions and I heard a level of detail to be expected only from utterly obsessed fans, which all of them appear to be.

The best thing about this panel was that finally, after years of my fruitless efforts to convince my mother of this fact, she said, "I guess the book and the movie are different formats and you can't really judge them by each other." Amen! If Diana Gabaldon says it, it must be true.

Charlie Lovett, the UA professor moderator, Carol Goodman, and
Jennifer Lee Carrell at Shakespeare Mysteries 

After a sack lunch and a yummy gelato from Frost, we went to a session in one of the large tents. The attraction for a panel called "Shakespeare Mysteries" was the Shakespeare part. A First Folio had been residing in Tucson for the past month and there was a big Shakespeare theme at the festival, including a booth where you could put on a ruff and crown and take your selfie with Will. Among other accomplishments, these three authors had written mystery novels with Shakespeare as a character or based on his writings. As a historical fiction lover, I was salivating over their ideas and research process and was dying to buy their books. We did, and got them signed. Where else can you do that in such a gluttonously huge quantity?

Marja Mills speaks about her relationship with Harper Lee and her family. 

We started the second day at the Arizona Daily Star tent. We didn't know with what authority Marja Mills would be talking about Harper Lee, and we didn't count on the tent being so totally packed. It was silly of us. Of course everyone wants to know what Marja Mills thinks about Harper Lee: she lived next door to her and her sister for a year and a half! Marja wove a tale of a charming pair of brilliant sisters who could tell you stories for hours on end, and a town where everyone was in everyone's business. Most importantly to me, Marja believes Harper Lee wasn't in favor of the publication of Go Set a Watchman, but what's done is done.

The Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies booth. Their imprint
Bagwyn Books is publishing my Seven Noble Knights on December 15! 

My mother has a moment with J. A. Jance. 

I think most bibliophiles would be satisfied with one of these events alone. But there's all this and so much more going on at the Tucson Festival of Books. Great local food, children's events, Science City, more bargain books than you can count, a literary circus, live music, a mariachi competition, and, and, and... This year, there was also the convenience of the First Folio being in the Arizona State Museum, which is walking distance from the festival. So we started with contemporary mysteries and ended with the Bard himself. No wonder it takes a week to recover.

See you in 2017!

The Oldest Book

Note to Tasty Summer Blog Hoppers: I'll put up a tasty post on Wednesday!

You've tuned in for the grand finale of the bibliophilia series!

What could possibly top the greatest (and heaviest) book that has ever (temporarily) been in my possession?

Try the oldest book I have probably ever been in the same room with! I'm funny that way.

This encounter also happened during my year studying in England. When you're doing medieval studies, they tend to want to show you really old books, and I wasn't about to stop them. Our cohort took a field trip to Durham, a gorgeous medieval town in the North. Now that I live in North Carolina, I see signs for "Durham" all the time and can't help but feel a little more medieval. (I must be the only one for whom this Durham provokes that reaction!)

In what I think I remember as the castle library (or maybe the cathedral — they're right across from each other), a librarian had thoughtfully laid out an assortment of treasures for us students to gawk at. I remember the most popular item was a facsimile of the Book of Kells, certainly one of the most beautiful items ever produced by human hand.

A humble book? Or indignant about being placed on bubble wrap?

But my favorite was the autograph manuscript of Aelfric's Latin grammar. Aelfric — scholar, translator, monk — lived in the late tenth century and is one of the most intelligent people to ever walk the face of the Earth (that we have evidence for). "Autograph manuscript" means he wrote the whole thing out himself, so not only is this book a thousand years old, but it has that sense of recognition that so titillates the human brain. Aelfric, someone I'd studied, someone whose mark on the world is traceable, touched these incredibly ancient pages! It was like traveling through time. What other object can do that?

I can only describe the experience in terms of Emily Dickinson's definition of poetry: it made me feel like my scalp was being ripped straight off. All my hairs stood on end with the chills that passed through me. It's almost painful, the sharpening of the senses such objects provoke.

I looked surreptitiously around me and couldn't see anyone else having the same experience. No one else seemed to feel the same longing for this book, the same need to own some part of it. Some were even yawning!

I was using a simple little film camera (they used to have those!), and low speed film, so I waited for the tour to move on, set the flash, and darted in front of this most awe-inspiring of books. I did the deed that resulted in the picture in this post, and rejoined the group with an elevated heart rate and a sense of transgression.

I'm sorry I had no choice but to use a flash, which they worry degrades paper and paint over time. But I'm not sorry I have this picture, this representation of that moment when I was completely aware, totally present, so very much a part of a world of infinite beauty.

I imagine some people find this in drugs. Lucky me!

With regret, I must announce that this is the end of the bibliophilia series on this blog. I hope you enjoyed it. If I have any other book nirvanas, I'll be sure to let you know. Feel free to share your love of the physical book in the meantime!

The Greatest Physical Book I Once Had in My Possession

Continuing my ode to the physical book, I can't stop before I talk about the most fun any master's degree student ever had!

I was in England, writing my thesis for my medieval studies degree, which was on the Cantigas de Santa María (c. 1252 - c. 1280). So of course I wanted to consult the facsimile — a copy that imitates the colors, size, and binding of the original book — of the Escorial T.I.1 codex, the famous Códice rico. All four surviving manuscripts of the Cantigas are deluxe, royal books, if you will, but the Códice rico is the most lavishly illustrated, complete with gold leaf and rare musical annotation.

Each song is accompanied by at least one full page of illustrations with six frames and, usually, captions, intended to be read in much the same way we use comics or graphic novels today. My primary concern was the way the pictures interact with and play off the text, and what that can tell us about the attitudes of the poets, the artists, and the compilers (as the nearest representatives of King Alfonso X's wishes).

They only printed a few thousand copies of this expensive facsimile in the mid-1980's, and the going price at the the time I used it was $5,000. When I requested it from the British Library depository at Boston Spa (very close to Leeds, where I studied), I expected them to ship it to my university library and then  to have to hoof it over there any time I wanted to consult it, for the length of the loan.

By what I can only assume was a lucky oversight or fluke, the interlibrary loan staffer handed the volume to me to take back home...!!!

It was raining lightly that day in May, and you can see that it's pretty hefty. If I had to guess, I'd say it weighed somewhere between 25 and 50 pounds. I wrapped my prize in my oversized coat to take the brunt of the water damage on me because I can dry off much more easily than this beautiful thing. Then I walked as fast as I could, over hill and dale, about a mile and half, back to my flat, with it clasped closely to me.

I can't believe I looked that young at any time during this millennium, but here's photographic evidence! Can you see the love in my eyes? I actually used this photo on a dating site, because I don't think another photo has ever been taken that better represents what I'm all about. The picture was taken at my flat some time in late May, June, or early July 2000, the happy two months when the facsimile resided with me.

The facsimile cover is overlaid with suede, so you can imagine the tactile delights! They simulated the gold leaf in the pictures, so I was more or less to required to stare at every page from every angle to see how it best caught the light. This book embodies everything that's beautiful about the Middle Ages: colors, architecture, graphic emotions, and of course, King Alfonso. It lived on my desk — and took up nearly all of its area — and I had the songs and the pictures practically memorized before long. Being that it's an exact facsimile, there are places where it looks torn or has holes, and that simulation was so delightful, I dare not think how I would feel in the presence of the original document.

When it was time to take it back, I waited until the very last day, and had my strong-armed English paramour (what a life!) carry it back to the library. I stopped at the color photocopier and laid that book right against the glass, then turned it in to interlibrary loan, where I think I remember a few looks of dismay. I doubt that book was ever loaned out again.

What could top this? Tune in on Monday for the grand finale of this bibliophilia series!

The Pleasures of Research

Another post in praise of physical books.

I recently got a borrower's card at the university library in order to do research for the next historical (and also find out more tidbits about SNKL). What an exciting day! I have to assume the experience was so ecstatic because it's been a long time since I was last in a high quality academic library. My husband was with me, observing at a distance, so I didn't lose my head entirely and spend all day there or attempt to cover myself up with a book tower or hit myself over the head with the larger volumes so as to get their wisdom by osmosis. I also needed him to rein me in because there's a limit to how many books a non-student can check out, so thanks, hon.

I made it out of there with two freshly printed books of history essays and two of three volumes of the book pictured above. The three volume set was printed in the 1970's, and I've fallen in love with it! It has that inimitable library smell I can never describe because it's the fragrance of everything lovable you can only find in a library. And the odor is aggressive, reaching out for your nose like a bunch of ripe peaches when you first open the bag.

Many have waxed poetic about the perfumes of old books, but these books are a complete five-sense experience. (Well, four: I haven't tasted one.) The glossy burgundy-colored leather of the cover has dried out in such a way as to make a hollow sound when you tap it. The thick pages have a soft feel from years of use and their yellowed edges don't lack a few unidentified stains. They make their own sound when turned, and then the relaxed spine mercifully stays open, making reading that much easier. Reading a book like this is another experience entirely from reading a new one, which is in another realm again from an ebook.

Aside from all that, these books are crammed so full of the information I've been looking for since I started writing SNKL. Did you know research for a non-erotica book could be so sensual? I didn't!

In Praise of the Physical Book

I jumped on the digital book bandwagon wholeheartedly in 2008, when my husband-to-be gave me a Kindle for my birthday. Thank goodness, because we've moved around so much and books aren't easy to move, and I've had such long periods living with my stuff in storage (now being one of those times). If I didn't have the portability of ebooks, I would be reading much less.

But...

A physical book is such a magical object. No matter how cheap, a book doesn't have the same presence in the world as an anonymous table, for example. It's a physical artifact that can reach across time and give insights into other human beings as well as record information. It communicates with us profoundly after the most basic training. And of course, there's the possibility of pictures!

I've been feeling a little burned out from all the digitization lately, and then I went to a new writers group where they happened to be talking about the way staring at screens all day can ruin your eyesight. That decided me: in order to recharge, I would purchase and read an honest-to-God book that had already been edited by someone else, and just enjoy it.

I went last weekend to my local independent bookstore (which happens to be the beloved Quail Ridge -- amazing place!) and got Magnificence by Lydia Millet, an extraordinary writer I can't recommend enough. If I don't do a review of that book, it's only because I'm using it to get away from all those duties and just enjoy the act of reading, my chosen world. Just read it!

Behold the wonder of an actual book!
We saw some gadgets for sale in the store that accomplish with only the thumb what I'm doing here with thumb and pinky.

So, the dust jacket has that weird faux-skin feel you get from the new matte finish. It ooks me out a little, and I find myself holding the outside of the book by the rich yellow actual covers. They have that rough-smooth burlap texture you expect with an expensive hardcover. The spine is tight and resistant to opening, so the book demands to be touched in order to stay open. The pages have a razor-sharp edges that are already softening in this humid environment, and the letters stand out crisply from the the light creme-colored pages. The fragrance, typical to new books, must be actively sought out. When you do, you'll be welcomed with the fresh, sweet odors of the ink and glue and the potential for countless years of loving use.

New book bliss.

What type of book appreciator are you? I'm definitely a "cherisher." Find out here.

Try Books

I'd suggest my own books, of course (most of which are also available at IndieBound), but anyone reading just about anything is a beautiful sight for an author, translator, editor, and publisher like me. Enjoy!

I'm making another multi-state move, so I'll be out of it for a while. I thought I'd leave you with this bookish thought!

Libraries and Their Relationship to... Books...

As a true bibliophile, I love libraries, public or private, big or small. I proudly served in the catalog department at the Boston University Law School Library for as long as I could before destiny took me other places.

As books move into digital formats, libraries have to figure out ways to stay abreast of it all. A. K. Marshall, who is also a writer, has recently called attention to the way some confused companies are shortchanging both libraries and themselves. The publishing industry, to repeat what's become a platitude, is undergoing a complete upheaval. I hope publishers can come up with useful, fruitful ways to collaborate with bookstores and libraries in the near future.

In a similar librarians-kick-ass mode, see some of the most interesting rules and special requests at libraries nationwide here.

I've also seen on social media that it's happened: a librarian has been asked for "the book by that mental writer" -- a request for Bring Up the Bodies by Hilary Mantel.

The Tucson Festival of Books

On Saturday, I volunteered for behind-the-scenes work at the Tucson Festival of Books.

It was huge! They told me it was the fourth largest in the nation, but I couldn't really get a concept of it until I saw the hundreds of tents, the enormous eating space, the open air acrobatic circus, and the people, people, people! The workshops took place underground so they could fit them in! A warning for any future festivalgoers: the events and tents east of Cherry on the map are serviced by Port-A-Potties. Out here in the Wild West, it's actually the East that's most rugged.

See how the tents stretch into infinity! I wondered why I had to apply seven layers of sunscreen. Why have a book fair outdoors in the middle of the desert? Because there was so much to see and do, no building could contain it. (There are only a few fairgoers in this picture because I took it at the end of the day.) Among the volunteers, one of the many stories circulating was about the authors from Back East who weren't feeling well. When asked if they'd had anything to drink, they said no. So the story ends with, "Duh! In the desert, you have to hydrate!"

Here, amazing junior musicians bring down the house... erm, tent, in the Third Annual Nuestras Raíces Mariachi Contest. This is in addition to the workshops, the displays, the talks, the circus, the book signings, and all the other events. 

I was setting up and ensuring the smooth running of author signing area #5. The size of the festival guarantees a bit of confusion, on the part of the organizers as well as the people who come to enjoy it. For example, we couldn't keep track of Derek Haas and Michael Brandt, involved with turning 3:10 to Yuma from a book into a movie. It was later reported that they had refused an escort because they felt like they knew where they were going, so maybe they just forgot they had the engagement. Below, see the throngs of people in line for autographs from Leslie Marmon Silko, who also suffered some kind of scheduling confusion, next to the calmer romance table with the very personable authors Julia London, Karen Hawkins, Mary Jo Putney, and Sabrina Jeffries.

The authors who made the biggest impression on me were: 

1. Lisa Napoli, who wrote the intriguing Radio Shangri-La and signed postcards for the volunteers, because we couldn't leave our post to go and buy the book... yet. 

2. Lisa Dahl, owner of a couple of restaurants in Sedona, whose culinary book The Elixir of Life is the most gorgeous of its kind I've ever seen. Her husband was there to help her unpack the books, take the money for them, and even open them to the title page to be signed. I couldn't help but imagine myself at next year's festival accompanied by my husband! 

3. Romance-with-a-kick author Vijaya Schartz, who's now so focused on selling her e-books that she had her "leftover" print copies on the table to give away! I got Ashes for the Elephant God, about lovers who are murdered in the time of the Raj, only to reincarnate and flee from the same assassin one hundred fifty years later. Ooh! 

4. Romance author Amylynn Bright, who's also shifting her focus to e-books. She had large postcards with a space in which she could sign her name. Given that most people don't have the new app for signing e-books, this is a brilliant solution! Way to go!

The Festival is completely non-profit and free to the public. The whole thing runs on tent fees and the good will of loads of volunteers who work for $0. If the event makes any money, they donate it to literacy resources in the community, so, if you are so inclined, you can feel good about making donations to such a great cause. www.tucsonfestivalofbooks.org

A word on shyness, a. k. a. social anxiety. I'm terribly shy, and for me that meant a Saturday morning of clenched fists and heart pounding. I wasn't sure what I was going to be doing or whom I was going to talk to at this enormous event, and my body interprets that as extremely threatening. My husband spent the morning trying to get me to breathe normally. When I got there, I nervously signed my name tag and changed into the T-shirt, and, clutching my two envelopes full of signs, schedules, and instructions, made my wobbly way to the signing area. The friendly volunteers were waiting for me, so they said, "Are you here?" Yes, I was. Then, there was so much to figure out and do that I had no more time to worry. The festivalgoers were all non-threatening book lovers, like me, so I had common ground with them as well as with the authors. I would have liked to chat with them more, but there was actual work I had to do. By the time the next rotation of volunteers showed up, I was in charge of operations, the go-to gal for signing area #5. 

I wasn't able to tell more than one person that I'm an author, too, and I didn't give out any of my business cards or mention that anyone at the festival might show up on my blog, but, considering that I went from practically hyperventilating to relative smoothness, I still have to count the day as a social anxiety success story. So, a good time was had by all.