I'm back from Bologna, and it was... just like... ahhhhhEEEEEgibegigalloo.
I thought maybe once I got back and had a few days to think about the whole thing, it might be easier to mush it into a blogish-type shape, but the whole thing is still kind of a jolly haze of exciting-ness and sparkles, and exciting-ness and sparkles are notoriously difficult to mush into bloggish-type shapes. Complicating matters, I took hardly any pictures, and neither did my mom.
Whenever we did take pictures, the haze of exciting-ness and sparkles didn't show up at all.
To the camera, the whole thing looked like this:
Do you see the sparkles? The exciting-ness, then? Surely you see the exciting-ness. NO?!? Perhaps you need spectacles.
But seriously, it's difficult to describe properly. It was huge. It was busy. There were books everywhere. We got lost in five minutes flat. And there were usually a lot more people running around than are shown in that picture up there. I suppose that was a quiet, distant corner of the fair that was simply too far away for many people to bother trekking to. Ooh, dangling preposition. There were lots of people!
So since I can't describe it, let me just recount the whole adventure beat for beat. Ok? Ok.
We left bright-n-early Monday morning on the train Zürich --> Milano. My travel book this time was The Wise Man's Fear.
(It has faerys in it. DID YOU KNOW THIS??? ME NEITHER. O_O)
And in point of fact, my travel book is still The Wise Man's Fear, because that thing is like 1,200 pages of small type and pretty much nothing happens after page 642.
We got out at Milan's ginormous train station and came to the conclusion that our train had arrived ten minutes late and our connecting train to Bologna had totally LEFT WITHOUT US. >:(
We met a Greek man who was also very shocked and distressed over the behavior of that train. He said some rather disparaging things about Italy, and trains, and about Greece as well, and then he went to Rome.
We went to Bologna, hiked across the street to our hotel, accomplished the vast fete of raising our finger to the elevator button, and somehow managed to drag our exhausted selves into our hotel room after surviving the ordeal of sitting around for six hours doing nothing.
We are tough cookies.
We then found a loud little restaurant and ate Italian food to blasting dance-pop. We had tortellini and bruschetta, salad that had no dressing (glerb) and some startlingly yellow vanilla gelato. There was also a plate of meat somewhere in there. Just meat. With nothing else. Nothing. NOTHING! Not even parsley. It was kind of ew.
During dinner, I whined to my mom about everything that might go wrong the next day.
"Mommmmm, what if I don't LIKE Book World. Huh, Mom? Huh?! Or, more importantly, what if Book World doesn't like meeeeeeehehehehe..." *weeps* *gnashes teeth*
And Mom was like, "Chillax, kiddo." Not really, but you get the picture.
And then we wandered around the town a little bit, and wandered back to the hotel, and I fell dead-asleep.
Next morning we had a meeting with Kristin Nelson, who is a terribly important literary agent. She took us to breakfast at The Carlton. Poshness. I didn't get any pictures, but it was all marble-y and red-carpet-y and baroque-y. And in case you were wondering, Kristin is super nice and not frightening at all.
We talked about books, and writers, and the silliness of THINGS, and then she suggested we smuggle my Mom into the fair!
So we smuggled my Mom into the fair.
Remember that last post? The one where I was like, "THEY WILL KICK US OUT IF WE DO NOT LOOK LIKE PROFESSIONAL OPERATORS IN TRI-CORN HATS, THEY WILL."
Lies, I tell you. Lies. You can totally smuggle people into the fair, tri-corn hats or no tri-corn hat, and no one will care! Though I suspect even if someone had cared, Kristin would have chased them away. So perhaps you shouldn't risk it unless you have a super-cool lit agent on your side.
And... um... this post is getting really long. And nothing of consequence has even happened yet. Sorrehhh. I'll type the rest up tomorrow. The interesting parts. The parts where I meet various book people, and see the most exciting thing ever. I also meet my first real-live-author! Guess who it was.
Guess, guess, guess.
I'll give you a hint: He/she debuted in 2011 with a big ol' YA dystopian.
You totally know who it is now, right? Yar. xD