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June 06, 2007
Andrea Portes at BEA
by Andrea Portes
The Algonquin, June 1, 5pm
Um, so I’m sitting here at The Algonquin trying not to notice the extremely drunk man sitting behind me, throwing out topic after topic in a rather noisy manner…trying to get me to bite.
No dice, Fritz. I’ve got greater things to think about than what was the downfall of Sammy Hagar. The other guy thinks the whole genre went downhill once Eddie Van Halen married Valerie Bertinelli. Yes, yes, its a bit unfair to blame the fall of an entire genre on one sassy yet somehow sweet brunette, I admit…but I’m still not gonna bite.
My publisher has no idea I’ve been here exactly two hours for investigative purposes…there is no other possible reason why I would get to a bar two hours early. I promise.
I mean, standing around under a bright light, sweating my face off and taking an overcrowded bus stuck in the middle of cross-town traffic would ABSOLUTELY not drive me into the nearest bar faster than you can say, “Cape Cod, please.”
I just had to get here to save a seat for my publisher. You can never be too sure about these things…
The Book Expo reminds me of one thing about myself: I’m allergic to light. There is an actual term for this. It’s called “sensory defensive.” A person who is “sensory defensive” is supposedly allergic to bright light and loud noises. I believe I fit this model.
It is because of this sad fact that I am forced to skulk around, under cover of the night, from dimly lit place to dimly lit place. (No other reason.)
It’s a curse, really.
At the BookSense luncheon I was lucky enough to be honored and forced to stand up, which was terrifying. I nearly toppled over out of nervousness. It’s possible that I may be allergic to standing.
Joyce Carol Oates was honored two tables after me and I nearly fell out of my seat when I realized she was there. I suffocated my urge to tackle her and try to extract her next book by biting her in the neck and sucking out the pages. Next time, Joyce.
(Consider yourself warned.)
When my publisher gets here, I shall have to share some of my ideas for an all-candlelight Book Expo. (I’m sure it won’t be a fire hazard.) Also, I was thinking maybe we could have some pate and fancy cheese around the booth…maybe some Postal Service in the background…or George Jones…maybe a juke-box…
Andrea Portes is the author of the debut novel, HICK.
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