Here in Austin, October is festival month.
I kicked it off with Austin City Limits, where I channeled my inner hipster and left with a wicked sunburn. Next weekend is a double-whammy, with the Austin Film Festival AND our first-ever Freak Show Festival. It’s a logical pairing, actually – our charmingly weird little city incarnate.
But this past weekend marked my personal favorite, the Texas Book Festival.
Celebrating its 15th year, the two-day event featured more than 200 authors on the grounds of our massive State Capitol building (things ARE bigger in Texas). The festival hosted Lone Star legends H.W. Brands and Laura Bush alongside blockbuster literati such as Jennifer Egan, Jonathan Alter, and Chip Kidd.
Ambitious festival-goer that I am, I scheduled my days to the limit. My self-imposed madness had me dashing from event to event, tent to Capitol and back, as I tried to cram in cooking demos and political panels, novelist interviews and immigration debates. I spent more on books in two days than I have in the past two months. I was exhausted, and I probably saw a mere 10% of the awesomeness that abounded.
And then, as I was wrapping up the final day, something surprising happened. Amidst the impulse to rush rush rush, I found a quiet moment of clarity—about books, publishing, and why I got into this often messy business in the first place.
I found it in an obscure room in the basement of the State Capitol.
I went to see Doug Dorst, who was speaking with David Means and Andrew Porter on a panel about the short story. I hadn’t originally planned to go at
all, until meeting Doug the previous night when I took him, along with Jennifer Egan, to the awesomely bizarre Teleportal Reading over on Austin’s eastside. Doug is a brilliant writer and genuinely nice guy to boot, and after hearing him “read” from his new story collection The Surf Guru (in the form of this trippy video, complete with reptile animation), I wanted to hear him discuss his work at the panel.
So here I am—in the bowels of the Capitol, in a room equipped with a wonky PA system emitting ear-splitting feedback that has me wondering if they’ll really pull this thing off after all—when they start to read their stories. Doug, Andrew and David could not be more different—in subject, style, and delivery—but each one seemed to calm the room a bit more than the last, and, in my case, remind me how frenzied I had been to start with. A fantastic panel discussion followed, and the conversation ultimately turned to a question that had been weighing on my mind, but seemed almost embarrassing, in its simplicity, to ask: why the story? Namely, what exactly is it about storytelling that so fascinates us?
Each writer had their own take, but they boiled it down to this: we read stories to understand the human experience. Stories explore questions that have yet to be answered, pry open and dissect pivotal moments, and help us order the world around us.
Surely, this is not revolutionary, and it’s a bit sentimental. But it felt significant to me, being in a place I had not planned to be, listening to writers who (I’m ashamed to admit) had not topped my “must-see” list, having this zen-like moment. Because I realized what we were really talking about was why people read books. And this question of “why”—somewhere between grueling book tours and dropping sales and dying book reviews and e-books and iPads and “what about ‘The Daily Show?’”—is one that I hadn’t asked myself in a while.
We’re fortunate to work with some amazing business leaders here, and they will often tell you this: in order to adapt and innovate, you must remember what business you’re in to begin with. In publishing, we’re in the business of storytelling – whether in fiction, sweeping histories, groundbreaking reportage, scientific treatises or paradigm-shifting business books. And while we certainly must grapple with sales figures, digital strategies, and the reality that, yes, “The Daily Show” really would help us move some books, it seems important not to let these “how” questions eclipse the “why.” Because that’s a question that, if we remember to ask it from time to time, may help us sort out publishing’s future.
I’m grateful to the folks at the Texas Book Festival—and especially to Doug, David and Andrew—for reminding me why I love what I do. Here’s a list of book festivals to round out 2010—check them out, buy some books, and rediscover your “why.”
Vancouver International Writers & Readers: October 19 – 24, 2010
International Festival of Authors (Toronto): October 20 – 30, 2010
St. Petersburg Times Festival of Reading: October 23, 2010
Edgerton Book Festival (Edgerton, WI): October 22 & 23, 2010
Vegas Valley Book Festival: November 3 – 7, 2010
Kentucky Book Fair (Frankfort, KY): November 13, 2010
Miami Book Fair: November 14 – 21, 2010