Yup. You heard it here first. I’ll even be at an official table (for the cool lit. dudes I work for).
Maybe I’ll wear something distinct, so you can spot me. So far, I’m thinking Nabokov lapels. Or a Snow Globe in which the words “general public” are drowning in water from
whatever is the worst section of the Chicago river (all of it?). GIVE ME YOUR SUGGESTIONS. The only other thing I’ll tell you is, I’m blonde. So if you don’t see anyone wearing anything snarky, just go up to every blonde in the room and ask, on a scale of one to ten, how much they dislike Nicholas Sparks. That’s almost literary. That’s like, a freshman creative writing class short story by that weird transfer student from Des Moines.
Of course, if someone affiliated with any writers I’ve written about comes up, I’ll call them crazy and say my favorite writer is Stephenie Meyer 4ever and a day. Unless of course it’s Jodi Picoult, in which case the moral duty is to perform a citizen’s arrest due to literary crimes against mankind.
UPDATE: The commenter below has the PERFECT plan! Check it out!
I almost wish I were going so I could ask every blond in the room that question. That’d be cool! You’d probably only know it was me, if you registered me at all, as that guy security hustled out the back.
Go! Go! Go!
Oh, I’ve sooo got it.
Wear an ordinary t-shirt with side by side photos of Nicholas Sparks and Vladimir Nabokov. Charge random attendees a dollar for the chance to guess the names of either one. For everyone who guesses Nabokov correctly they get a signed autograph from Jimmy Santiago Baca. Everyone who guesses Sparks gets cold-cocked by Baca (this is really saying something since Baca is a total badass). Now here’s where it gets good.
You take the money you got from the Baca Beat Down and buy yourself a bottle of top shelf scotch. With the change you pay more random attendees to innocently ask Paul Harding what he thinks of his fellow New Hampshire native Jodi Picoult. Take a shot every time the vein in his forehead pulses (I saw this shit go down live. Trust me; it’s totally worth the cash). But make sure you set up a cab ride to the hotel ahead of time because sister, you’re gonna be hammered by the time the night’s over.
Meanwhile I’ll be chillin’ in the NH on livejournal, writing Picoult/Sparks slash fan fiction (spoiler alert: They never get to the deed since they can’t agree on who gets to be the Top) and cruising Amazon giving my ebook away for free to anyone who can prove they bought a book written by Cormac McCarthy.
You’re too awesome. If you ever write a guest post, I’ll post it. Twice.
I’ll shoot over an e-mail. You’re going to want to approve this first. TRUST ME.