Louisiana Book Festival: The Seminar October 28, 2011Posted by The Typist in literature, New Orleans, Odd Words, Toulouse Street.
Tags: Louisiana Book Festival, S, Sheryl St. Germain
Six hours into my first Louisiana Book Festival and I’m already running late. How I am going to manage tomorrow’s insanely packed schedule I have no idea, but not by sitting around here typing. I am off to the Author’s Party on behalf of Odd Words and NoleVie.com, so I had best get moving.
My first stop when I arrived early at the Louisiana State Library was to look up A Howling in the Wires. I didn’t have time to visit it on the shelves on the fifth floor, but will make a moment to do so tomorrow.
I don’t really have much time to write about my seminar with Sheryl St. Germain on Conjuring Place in creative non-fiction other than to say it was productive and delightful. I managed a piece in spite of mishearing 10 minutes break and 10 minutes to write and lingering too long over a cigarette but I mostly had it in my head by the time I got back before the expected break was over to find the rest of the attendees madly scribbling. Germain was kind and constructive with a room of varying writing experience, not an easy job.
Her handout had some interesting pointers, the most striking of which was: 4. Revise toward strangeness. This is clearly something regular readers know I will need to work on. She also included “7. Be Fearless,” so I think wearing my Write Like A Motherfucker shirt from Sugar on TheRumpus.net was probably a good wardrobe choice, even if it was meat locker chilly inside and out in Baton Rouge today.
Realizing I left without business cards, I found an Office Depot using Google on the State Library;s computers (and while looking at the Author’s Party page realized I was probably under packed.) So instead of a few hours to chill I was at the store cutting rough-and-ready business cards, then over to Wal-Mart to find a better looking and warmer shirt. Because if you think you’re going to be under dressed, the first place you think of is of course Wal-Mart.
Did I mention I forgot to check the weather? Wal-Mart was next to Office Depot, and I managed a decent looking Puritan button neck pullover, so either Puritan has gone down in the world (I used to be mine at D.H. Holmes) or some kind spirit from the Garden District was looking out for me. I would go with Polyhymnia who’s emblem is the veil but the poor girl got her self left off when they were naming the streets.
I am finally ensconced in the Crowne Plaza Executive Center, which has everything you want in a mid-priced business class hotel, including an iron that just left a faint stain on my only decent slacks and strange black marks all over the wall where the luggage stand goes, where a previous guest apparently had difficulty stuffing all those live monkeys into his overnight bag. A quick cigarette and I’m back to the author’s party, where I must not embarrass myself by making the dinner I didn’t get out of whatever sort of food they put out. And if I don’t stop typing and get dressed soon I’ll be eating olives out of the bar for dinner.