London Book Fair

These massive events are not a great draw for me. I always dread going, and I always find at least one really useful/interesting/amusing person there, often several. There are always ideas sparked, sometimes a real winner of a spark. I always come back exhausted but happy. I still dread going to the next.
Yesterday I dragged myself out of my pit at 4.30am to get to Earl's Court for 9am, so I was in a commuting daze before I started, and headed straight for the first available source of coffee. A woman grabbed the spare seat at my table, and we swapped condolences on lack of sleep (she has a small child with early rising tendencies). This bright spark, who works for the BBC, met all the criteria mentioned, so I could, at that point (9.23am) happily have gone straight back home after a good day's work.
However, there were people to see and books (about 3,549,721) to drool over, so we had a busy day meeting and drooling, with not enough stops for tea. The best meetings were the chance ones, and it will be fun to see what comes of two, in particular.
I left at five for another meeting, with a charming and enthusiastic and amusing fellow called Graham, and then slid back to Euston for the last meeting, this one purely social, with another amusing and charming chap called Nigel, whose daughter has just finished her first novel.
After waving goodbye to Nigel, I fell to my knees and crawled back to the station, on to the train, into a seat designed for a humanoid with no need for sleep, and slept. I was woken periodically by a pain in my neck - metaphorical, caused by whingeing infant opposite, or physical, caused by alien-designed seats that encourage head to fall sideways, foreward or backward at unhelpful angles. Not altogether bad, since it meant I woke up just in time to hear the warning of arrival at Runcorn, rather than a rude awakening at Lime Street, where my car wasn't.
This morning I have a stiff neck and bags-for-life under my eyes, but a sheaf of eager little business cards jiggling about on my desk for attention. And a stolen book (thanks, Hodders) in case my eyelids stay open for more than 3 seconds tonight.

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