You’ll probably see a lot of posts this week about the American Library Association meeting, and lots more about the Newbery/Caldecott banquet. You’ll see pictures of librarians and writers and editors all dressed up with someplace to go. Or you’ll see pictures of place cards and menus in swirly script. You’ll see dessert.
My dinner on banquet night was a slice of pizza from Two Chefs. The plate was paper, not China. The pattern was “frog.” I skipped dessert. But I did go to the end of the banquet in time to hear the speeches from the Newbery and Caldecott medal winners. Wendy Shang drove. She can actually drive in D.C. whereas I, who learned to drive on the quiet roads of Blacksburg, Va., have always been Super Chicken and do it only when absolutely necessary. We parked a few blocks away, walked past three guys getting patted down by the police, and entered the hotel. We found the banquet room, the doors were open, and chairs were welcoming those of us who decided to come in late and forgo the $94 ticket. The hotel put out almost exactly the right number of chairs, so clearly the ALA people had this down to a science. (I saw only one person standing and she may have just wanted to stretch her legs.) We were way in the back. But it felt like exactly the right place to be. Wendy and I got to sit near other writer-type people (Pam Bachorz and her friend Vivian, Cynthea Liu, and Jaclyn Dolamore. You’ve got to love an event where you can still name drop from the second-to-last row.) We got to cringe collectively when we remembered our warped view of relationships after Newbery Chairman Katie O’Dell invoked the name VC Andrews. We got to laugh when Jerry Pinkney said the word “finally” and we got to “awww” when he shared his honor with his wife of 50 years. We got to wipe away sneak-attack tears when Rebecca Stead talked about lightning bolts of joy. I didn’t have my camera but here at home I took a picture of my little plastic cup. (The water was in the back of the room, too.) As you can see, the cup is half full. =)
Don’t forget the magical parking chant, which nabbed us a space out of nowhere when all seemed lost. Park, park, park, park, park…