I'm sitting at "the blogger table" at the National Book Awards at the Marriot Marquis in New York City, chilling with Marydell of BookBlog, Jason "Publishing Spot" Boog, Ed "Ed Rants" Champion and Sarah "Sarah Weinman" Weinman. There are decent sandwiches, wine and drinks, lots of literary schmoozing (I just chatted with two of my favorite writers, Fran Lebowitz and Ken Kalfus, and met several interesting people). We're now waiting for the ceremony to begin, and below us on the main floor is a representative sample of the entire literary establishment. As I gaze at the well-dressed crowd, I think to myself: are these *my* writers? Do I relate to this whole scene? What can I learn from seeing so many esteemed authors (Jonathan Franzen, Joan Didion, Christopher Hitchens, Toni Morrison) in one place, and how many of these writers do I truly esteem myself?
Well, like I said, Fran Lebowitz and Ken Kalfus are here, so we must be off to a good start.
And I'm glad to be at the blogger table with Mary, watching and waiting to see what we'll see.