Taipei Charlie's gone south, ongoingly
Oct. 11th, 2015 10:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceYesterday morning we took as free time, which for me meant hanging in the hotel room, reading the internets, going for a walk by myself, all the usual fascinating processes of the writer's life. Shut up, I like this stuff.
Then we assembled at noon and went back to the book fair, to listen to a band for an hour or so. Very political - abusing the president (we are told), right in front of the governmental palace - and parodic, blending traditional Mexican musical styles into satirical songs; and for all that still a classic rock foursome with a metal edge, and with (ahem) a rock-solid musicality. I loved it, for all that I didn't understand a word.
Also, I discovered that I can no longer stand still for an hour and change without my back having something to say on the matter. Ouchie. No wonder I never go to gigs any more; it's clearly prophylactic.
Back to the hotel for lunch, then hey-ho for the launch of the book we are here to promote. And copies! It's beautiful. Sombra Del Arbol de la Noche, since you ask: a dozen English weird/supernatural/horror stories, translated for the occasion. And distributed free, at the fair and elsewhere. Which may be why we had a queue that wound around the tent, for the signing that followed the launch. I've never signed that many books at a sitting. And people were so enthusiastic, so engaged - it was lovely.
Adriana the translator/editor had half a dozen friends show up, who wanted to whisk her away for coffee afterwards; so she insisted on whisking us too, and we drank moka oaxaca and talked until we had to come back to the hotel to be picked up and whisked further, to a birthday party for the Minister of Culture's sister.
Which is how come I was drinking mezcal at midnight with the minister's girlfriend in the courtyard of her beautiful house in a trendy district of Mexico City. Shut up, I say: I like this stuff.
Then we assembled at noon and went back to the book fair, to listen to a band for an hour or so. Very political - abusing the president (we are told), right in front of the governmental palace - and parodic, blending traditional Mexican musical styles into satirical songs; and for all that still a classic rock foursome with a metal edge, and with (ahem) a rock-solid musicality. I loved it, for all that I didn't understand a word.
Also, I discovered that I can no longer stand still for an hour and change without my back having something to say on the matter. Ouchie. No wonder I never go to gigs any more; it's clearly prophylactic.
Back to the hotel for lunch, then hey-ho for the launch of the book we are here to promote. And copies! It's beautiful. Sombra Del Arbol de la Noche, since you ask: a dozen English weird/supernatural/horror stories, translated for the occasion. And distributed free, at the fair and elsewhere. Which may be why we had a queue that wound around the tent, for the signing that followed the launch. I've never signed that many books at a sitting. And people were so enthusiastic, so engaged - it was lovely.
Adriana the translator/editor had half a dozen friends show up, who wanted to whisk her away for coffee afterwards; so she insisted on whisking us too, and we drank moka oaxaca and talked until we had to come back to the hotel to be picked up and whisked further, to a birthday party for the Minister of Culture's sister.
Which is how come I was drinking mezcal at midnight with the minister's girlfriend in the courtyard of her beautiful house in a trendy district of Mexico City. Shut up, I say: I like this stuff.