The Rules of Survival was a 2007 Los Angeles Times Book Prize finalist in the Young Adult Literature category! I took my digital camera along to LA for the festivities, and below, you'll find the whole story.
But first, you should know that the winner was Coe Booth for Tyrell (Scholastic Push). Hooray for Coe, who well deserved the honor! The other four finalists, besides The Rules of Survival (Penguin/Dial), were M.T. (Tobin) Anderson for The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing: The Pox Party (Candlewick), John Green for An Abundance of Katherines (Penguin/Dutton), and Meg Rosoff for Just in Case (Random House). Meg was unable to attend, but Tobin, John, and I all happily agreed afterward that each of us felt that, if we couldn't win, it absolutely should be Coe who did.
Now, unfortunately, I didn't get as many photos as I would have liked, because of various reasons. However, I'll do my best to compensate with text. Here goes:
Photos and comments for Friday, April 27, 2007
Accompanying me on the trip was my boyfriend, Jim. Meet Jim, who is seen here (facing the camera) playing cribbage in my kitchen with my Uncle Max:
This was Jim's first trip with me in my official capacity as author, and thus his first glimpse of the Wonderful But Weird and Confusing and Perhaps a Little Neurotic World of Writing and Publishing, so I was wondering it would be for him. Well, he handled it all like a master. Not that he didn't have some comments.
Anyway. Early Friday morning, we flew from Boston to LA, leaving behind rain and 40-degree weather, and landing in sunshine and 70s. While traveling, I read Tyrell and was completely engrossed.
We were met at baggage claim by Karen Hebert, who runs her own media escort company in LA, and who had been hired by my publisher, Penguin, to smooth the way of all the Penguin authors who were there, including me and John Green (who are of course the only Penguin authors that you, dear blog reader, truly care about as you read this, yes?).
Here's the smart, vivacious, and totally-in-conntrol Karen:
Karen's husband, Ray (who she presses into service from time to time), told us later that Karen's business is the oldest and most respected media escort service in the country, and that she has over 25 years of experience making sure that people get where they're supposed to be, when they're supposed to be there. (This will explain why she had no trouble with me and Jim. Or, presumably, with Ray, who is an ex-navy pilot.)
So, off to the hotel, the Luxe Hotel Bel Air, where the L.A. Times was graciously putting up every single bingle author who was on the award nominations list, plus all the authors who were announcing the award winners (along with paying our airfare). This meant that you might see, oh, Jane Smiley having dinner, or Jim Lehrer in the lobby, or Michael Connelly at the bar. Oh, it was an excellent weekend for rubber-necking and, as you can already see, I am not above name-dropping. (Just wait!)
We checked in, examined the minibar, changed for the evening's festivities, and got a bite of something to eat at the hotel restaurant.
Then -- frabjous day! -- the other part of my little group of guests arrived: my college freshman-year roommate, Alexandra, who lives in LA and who I had not seen for over 12 years. That's Alexandra on the left, then me, and then Jim, all dressed for the party:
Now, I say "party," but really, it was this sequence of events:
- Pre-dinner reception
- Formal dinner "with the public"
- Official LA Times Book Prizes program, hosted by Jim Lehrer
- Private post-prize reception
Anyway, at this point, the lobby of the Luxe Hotel began to look busy. Allison Smith, the Penguin publicity mastermind, appeared. So did John Green and his posse (John, his wife, editor, and agent). Jacqueline Woodson (who had won the LA Book Prize previously, and was annoucing the winner later) raced by in bare feet. Tobin Anderson and his girlfriend, Nicole. I didn't see Coe until later, though. Much chatter, and then the Penguin group was whisked off to the first reception.
And here, I have to say, I sort of checked out on the whole book prize experience because it was way too fascinating to catch up on over twelve years with Alexandra. She and Jim and I talked basically non-stop through the reception and dinner. Much of the discussion is Top Secret, but here's one tidbit: Alexandra said her husband believed that he and I were distantly related, and I did some hard thinking and lo! I believe he's correct. Who knew?
After dinner, we moved on to Royce Hall, on foot. Let me pause for a moment here to remark on the sheer beauty of the UCLA campus. It's breathtaking. And such a great school besides. Alexandra and I, both Yale graduates, are in agreement that if you are a California resident and can manage, by hook or crook, to get into UCLA, you'd be quite insane to go to any Ivy League school instead.
But back to the crowd milling outside Royce Hall. Suddenly, Allison Smith said to us, sotto voce, "Over there. Sean Penn."
And yes! It was! Coming straight toward us, book-ended by his grinning male entourage (very conscious of the stares, and seeming to enjoy them), was Mr. Penn. He had his hands stuffed into his pockets and was walking in sort of a rolling manner.
I know this is not a unique comment, and it wasn't like I didn't know it, but it was still a shock. Mr. Penn is quite, well, SHORT. Perhaps even as short as I am! He was also decidedly pleased with himself (not that there's anything wrong with that) and resembled, really, nothing so much as a bantam rooster, strolling and strutting in the barnyard.
(I did not mention earlier that Jim is a birder. Mr. Penn was his first specimen. No binoculars needed.)
Mr. Penn strutted past us and was gone.
We went on into Royce Hall and filed to our assigned seats. I had been placed on the aisle, in the third row. This made my heart skip a beat -- could it be? might I win? -- even though all the other finalists were also strategically placed.
On the way to my seat, I took the opportunity to get a snapshot of Tobin Anderson and Nicole. Truth to tell, they asked me to take a picture of them, having forgotten their own camera. Plus, I think I have become their official photographer at these sorts of occasions (see the NBA Blog), and Tobin's mom is counting on me. So, here they are, and I think they both look smashing:
The awards themselves were taped, and I bet you can catch them on C-Span reruns, late one night. They were very well done, I thought. Of course for me the real highlight was Jacqueline Woodson's description of our category (and yes, true confession: there's absolutely an indescribable thrill in seeing your very own book cover, and your very own face, up there for all to see while somebody like Jackie Woodson sings your praises).
But again, as at the NBAs, I also felt a thrill of comraderie about Coe Booth and John Green and Tobin Anderson and Meg Rosoff, and was very aware of the tremendous honor of representing Young Adult literature. (More true confession: while listening to the nominees in the general fiction category, I noticed that at least two of the five could very fairly also be categorized as YA.) And when Coe was announced as the winner, and mounted the stage looking dazed and radiant all at once, well ... HOORAY!
After the awards, it was on to the posh reception, on the Royce Hall patio (heated by braziers) and inner lobby. There were ice sculptures:
There were fountains of chocolate, for dipping fruit and cream puffs in:
And there was a lot more talking and gossiping to be done, and I did it! And also the opportunity to meet and congratulate Coe's family, many of whom had come with her to LA.
Hours later (having cadged a ride back to the hotel with Lisa See -- name-dropping! name-dropping!), Jim and I collapsed ... aware that Saturday was going to be even fuller.
Photos and comments for Saturday, April 28, 2007
Nonetheless, we were up early on Saturday, because well, we are from Boston. After breakfast, after asking the advice of the hotel desk clerk, we set out on foot to Brentwood Village, about a mile away. We saw many interesting things, but this is what I thought to take a picture of:
Then we were picked up by Cindy Marcari, the media escort for the day -- I do not have a picture of Cindy, but she was wonderful.
At this point, the UCLA campus was completely dressed for the Book Festival and already there were tents filled with books and people.
Cindy conducted me to the booth shared by the Dutton Bookstore and Penguin, where John Green and I were scheduled for a morning book signing:
Here we are, during the signing. (When it got slow, we played Dots.)
I am not sure why my glasses/sunglasses reflect the light in such an odd way. Hm.
After this, Cindy took me to the "Green Room," which is an area set up for the authors at the festival to sit, eat, and relax before and after their various activities. We were allowed to bring guests, so of course Jim was with me. As we entered (name-drop alert!), we saw this gentleman:
I did not know who he was, and it's a bad picture because I was trying to look as if I wasn't taking it when I was, but that is Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.
I gawked at Kareem a little bit while we ate. And perhaps, speaking of celebrities, I might mention that Mike Farrell wandered by. Meanwhile, over the public-address system, you could hear various authors being summoned to their panels. Deborah Eisenberg kept being called again and again and again. I hope she made it in the end.
Then they called the "Young Adult: Reality Bites" panelists, which meant all of us young adult nominees. We congregated and were led across the campus by our guide, to a packed auditorium for our one-hour panel, moderated by Sonja Bolle.
In my opinion, the panel was excellent.
I do not have pictures of the panel, because we were not allowed to take any. However, it is possible to get an audio CD or MP3 of the whole event. If you want this, order #1023: Young Adult Fiction: Reality Bites, and contact:
phone: (714) 838-4528
email: barryack AT hotmail.com
web: www.gacrecordings.comCost is $10 per CD plus $1.50 shipping and handling
After the panel was another signing, for all the panel members:
John Green has not yet arrived in this picture, but he ended up signing in the now-empty seat beside me.
And now, alas, I am running out of descriptive steam. There was an evening party for Penguin folks, and then a whole group of YA writers from the greater LA area (and some from NY!) met up at the hotel.
And then, the next morning, before we had to leave for the airport, Jim and I managed a short birding expedition to Topanga State Park, where Jim (to his very great delight) saw a wrentit, and we both saw hummingbirds and ravens and red-tailed hawks, and one red-shouldered hawk, which I tried (and failed) to take a picture of.
And so, to close -- what a wonderful time, and a wonderful trip. All thanks to the Los Angeles Times for their sponsorship, and to Penguin (and especially publicist Allison Smith) for their wonderful organization and taking-care of all the other details, and to Karen Hebert and her media escort team for making it all so easy.
I don't really wish I could be a California girl, and yet, still -- I was almost convinced.
