BROOKLYN BOOK FESTIVAL: SEPTEMBER 16th, 2006

I knew nothing about this and, of course, was not invited to the Brookyn Literary Reception and Mingle and I love receptions and mingles.  Thanks to A Brooklyn Life for filling me in on the Brooklyn Book Festival on September 16th at Brooklyn Borough Hall.

In the end, the N.Y.W.O.P.s made it all worthwhile. That's "nice young women of publishing" to the uninitiated. Easily differentiated from the crowd by "slightly intellectual hair, often involving bobby pins," and frequently accompanied by G.Y.M.O.P.s (gay young men of publishing), the Nywop has "a sexual allure" and spends most of her time "being bookish," which mostly seems to mean reading proposals in her living room with a glass of red wine in hand. At least, that's according to my new friend Andrew, whose pithy observations were both preceded and followed by unequivocal remonstrations of book love.

That's what we'd all gathered for, anyway. The rather ambitiously-named Brooklyn Literary Reception and Mingle  brought out publishing and library types, do-gooders, and writers -- all for the open bar and a promise of big things to come. We gathered (some might say a bit prematurely) to herald the Brooklyn Book Festival, a one-day event to be held of September 16, 2006, with the unfortunate motto "smart, hip, and diverse," a motto I'm willing to forgive if, indeed, I'm granted but a glimpse of committee member Maurice Sendak. There are some big names backing all this up, after all. And, if it goes according to plan, three outdoor stages, reading rooms, children's entertainment, musicians, and more than 100 vendors will round out the day. To think: Borough Hall Plaza filled with books, Nywops, Gymops, and of course their more common cousins, the S.Y.M.O.L.T.s* (straight young men of literary tendencies), who can typically be spotted in abundance preening their unshaven cheeks and adjusting their horned-rim eyeglasses.

A festival centered around books is a great thing (not to mention the eye candy), and while some have questioned whether there is room for yet another book festival in this city, my thoughts lie elsewhere. Through the cacophony of Borough Hall's marbled dome, among the throngs of young and old and middle-aged, under the beating of a September sun, will enough pause, enough silence exist to give words their proper due? If the writers come, will anybody listen? Can we promote ourselves and our loves without selling them out?  Does it even really matter?

We'll be there in celebration of words written and of words to come. The famous and common alike will mingle and push and shove and get all sticky with cotton candy. For the sake of all of it, this wanna-be Nywop crosses her fingers and gives thanks. [The Written Nerd's two cents on the affair.]

Pix of books by Mamluke at Flickr