Tayari's Blog: Carolina On My Mind

I have to say, that among so many luminaries, I felt a little bit entry-level. Pearl Cleage was there, warm and lovely as ever. Her "Oprah Poem" was at the fest, available for purchase. (You should have seen the frenzy!) All the sweet-talking, sharp-writing southern women writers were there: Jill McCorkle, Jayne Anne Philips, Ann Patchet, et. al. The men whose names you know, but you never actually see were on the scene to: Tom Wolfe (white suit and all), Pat Conroy, etc.

Elizabeth Dewberry who wrote me the coolest, warmest, letter ever when Kirkus slammed The Untelling was on hand to promote her new novel, His Lovely Wife. I never forget kindness like that.

Festival highlight: Sister-writers, Natasha Tretheway and Elizabeth Alexander did a public conversation about researching their amazing historical poetry. Miz Alexander's new book, American Sublime, was a finalist for the Pulitzer this year, you know.

I ran into Samuel Delaney in the hotel lobby. Quick story: when I was a sophomore at Spelman, I was assigned his memoir The Motion of Light in Water, for an oral presentation. As Delaney is one of the pioneers of black sci-fi, my teacher (and I!) assumed it was a memoir about the writing life. Well, it was that, and also a memoir of the East Village in the sixties. Major sex scenes. Acts that this little Georgia Girl had never heard of. (The publishers have since added a really helpful subtitle.) When I met Mr. Delaney, I told him this story, and he seemed pleased.

Not so warm story: ran into a major writer. I said "I am such an admirer of your work." She looked me up and down, and said, finally, "I am an admirer of your earrings."

The weather was gorgeous, the food was fantastic. For the first time, I understand why they call them book festivals.