Park City Bound:

Parkcity

I’m headed to Park City, Utah this weekend to give a keynote address (!) at the Publisher’s Group of the West’s Annual Conference. Having never been to Park City before and not being able to ski, I’m wondering what I should do in my down hours.

So who knows a thing about Park City that doesn’t involve Sundance or hitting the slopes? If the answer is "nothing", I’m bringing a lot of books.

On that, I’m prepping like mad this week and probably wont be blogging much.

See you Monday.

LA Assessment:

300pxhollywood_sign

I had business in Los Angeles this last weekend and my friend Jenny tagged along with me, to check out some art galleries and have some fine meals. A few stats from our trip.

Art galleries visited: 9

Enjoyed: 1 (Something’s up with Bergamont Station. It went from being Los Angeles’s greatest concentration of galleries to a sad knot of half-empty rooms where no one says hello to you when you come in).

Family members visited (collectively): 5

Old friends who canceled: 4 (Bad moon-alignment or something).

New restaurants dined at: 4 (Jenny raved about Ammo. Bloom was a new gem for me.)

Celebrity sightings: 5 (Dana Carvey on our plane down, Jay Mohr at the Brentwood Country Mart, Mike White in Kitson looking at overpriced clothes, Lauren Graham and David Caruso both eating at Ammo, but not together).

Speaking Gigs: 1

Hotels we both really liked:
1

New Favorite Airline:
1

Hours spent in traffic or looking for a place to park: 83 gabillion.

How glad we were to be back home: 83 gabilliionzillon.

Apologies…

Hey sorry everyone. The Jewish holiday kinda swallowed me up and now I’m off to L.A. for a speaking gig.  Will blog if I get a moment but no guarantees. Otherwise, back on Monday.

See you in the fall….

I have tried and failed. No matter how many spare minutes I think I have to blog while working and writing full time, I simply don’t. And I’m not going to create a bunch of mashed potateoy air posts to full time before my schedule frees up.

So I’m taking a break. I’ll be away from this here blog until Labor day or sometime around there. Plan on retuning sometime around Sept 4th.

Until then, I bid you good day. And a better tomorrow.

Off to New York and The New Company:

I’m headed to New York this morning for Book Expo America. Only this year it’ll be as much for business as fun and games.

Beginning this weekend, I’ll be working for BookTour.com, a startup I’m on the founding team of along with Chris Anderson and Adam Goldstein. As announced here, Chris will be discussing the service tomorrow at the conference. The three of us will be demoing it all weekend.

That’s all I’m going to say for now but as soon as we go live, you will be the first to know.

I’m excited and a little scared. Wish me luck.

Where I’ve Been…

Hey everybody. Apologies for not keep up. I’m in Ann Arbor now for the Ann Arbor Book Festival, which I take in each year as an excuse to visit my hometown. Already, I’ve seen Francine Prose speak, had a lovely chat with Dan Wickett of Emerging Writer’s Network and make good use (honey banana smoothie and rasberry bran muffin for breakfast. Hmmmm) of my membership at the People’s Food Co-Op (somehow overlooked in the first, say, 18 years I lived here) the I’m back next Wednesday, home for a week and a half then off to New York for BEA and the announcement of my new business.

What new business, you ask? I need to wait on that until we’ve launched but trust me, you’ll be hearing plenty about it here. More than you would ever want to know.

Second book is in the hands of agent Jud now. All is well there.

Mostly I’m just glad it’s spring. May is among my favorite months of the year, probably a holdover from school and summer being withing reach but also, May says possibility. If spring is about rebirth, everything new, May is about everything trying to walk, to stretch and see what being alive means.

I look out the window of my family’s place here in Ann Arbor, at the Ann Arbor News building, where I interned as I high school student, the Ann Arbor Hands On Museum where I volunteered the summer before I went to college and the marquee of the Michigan Theatre where I’ve been seeing movies for 25 years, and I know this is where I learned to be the person I am, where I learned how to live.

I’m proud of that, proud to be from here and strive to carry what I’ve learned with me when I go back home

LA in Reverse:

Laatnight

Had a great few days in Los Angeles to celebrate Passover with my parents. Got to check in on old friends and new, see a fantastic art exhibit and spend a lot of quality time with family. The hotel we were staying at was only a few blocks from the former site of the legendary Hollywood restaurant Chasen’s. I was lucky enough to have one meal at Chasen’s, dinner on my 20th birthday, before it closed in 1995. I took some time to walk around the parking lot and think about how much time has passed since then. I made a note to see the documentary about the restaurant’s closing sometime soon but the truth is, it may be too sad for me.

I am a sucker for old Hollywood lore. Maybe it’s because I worked at movie studios at the impressionable age of nineteen. Even though my second summer of it cured me of ever wanting to be that close to the business again, it’s still the image I have in my head of Los Angeles, an unwieldy, howling, sunshock that still draws young people filled with crazy ideas, a place where, as Steve Martin wrote in his valentine L.A. Story, “They’ve taken a desert and turned it into their dreams.” It’s why, when I visit, I stick to old hangouts and places long out of fashion. I’m just not interested in the LA of now. I get so much more out of the LA of then.

Soon I’m going to go back to LA for a few days and have a completely manufactured old Hollywood experience: Stay at the Chateau Marmont (Harry Cohn said “if you must get in trouble, do it at the Marmont”), dine at Dantana’s and Musso & Frank’s, have a drink at the Rainbow, and take in a show at the Magic Castle. It won’t resemble any sort of experience a real Los Angelino has but for a weekend, I can live with that. It’ll be great fun for me. I may even wear a seersucker suit and walk with a gold topped cane.

10 Things I Learned at SXSW 2007:

Background: I’ve been attending the South by Southwest Interactive Festival since 2000 and as a featured speaker since 2003. This year I decided to go to my ninth conference just as an attendee. South by Southwest was held March 9-18 in Austin, Texas.

Here’s what I learned….

1. In the Hall of the Giants: Rumor has it South by Southwest Interactive has grown 200% in attendee population in 2005, outselling the SXSW Film Festival for the first time in their collective histories. Each official event and most of the off-schedule jamborees had corporate sponsors and an always-on tap of free drinks. The after-parties had after parties. Panels were held on Being John Malkovich floors of the convention center I never knew existed. It took three hours to get a table at lunch.

Forget having to explain to your friends back homethat South by Southwest Interactive isn’t the same as South by Southwest Music. Them days are over. SXSWi has arrived. Its now the Sundance of New Media.

2. Which alters the attendee experience, probably forever. SXSWi is no longer one conference where everyone largely attends the same pool of events. It’s now a swaying mobile of mini conferences where you hear a week later that your mother attended and played Legos with Wil Wright, but you’d have never known because you never saw her. Panels scattered about the convention center means everyone doesn’t file down the same hallway to make lunch plans. Competing night events means you may go to one party and stay simply because you’ve lost your convoy. Most sadly, agendas now seem to be set by the tagline on your business card. Designers stick with designers, coders with each other, the rest in floating huddles. It seems like the only way to get a handle on the enormity of it all is to seek out familar faces. Surprise and spontaneity are a luxury now.

The frontier has closed, the west has been settled. How long before there’s a geek version of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show, complete with blink tags and 56K modems to romanticize an era long gone?

Keynote speaker Kathy Sierra began her presentation by asking the audience to group itself into three categories: Designers, coders and money people. As one of the “others” I stayed in my chair and shrugged. SXSW was formally a conference of “others” where engineers learned from english majors after drinking with lawyers and arguing with artists. That still exists, mostly in groups of friends who already knew one another, but it is an increasing rarity. Now reasons attendees come to Austin are practical: To network, get funded, to hang out with old friends, to drink.

3. I’m not bitter. No, really. You want what you love to succeed. And I have loved SXSW for the better part of a decade. Demanding it remain exactly how I first enjoyed it is selfish. Change is inevitable. The people I admire most accept change, evolve or don’t but make a thoughtful decision and don’t rag on yours. Asking for nothing to change then whining when it does is being a spoiled brat. And my mother raised me better than that.

Now that doesn’t mean I was all higglety pigglety about everything. On more than one occasion (usually after getting stranded in the rain or waiting 2 hours for a plate of migas), I was ready grab the next flight back to California. But that’s a child’s instinct, running home with my football because I didn’t get to play quarterback. Instead I drew on how I felt last summer, standing for 9 hours in the Chicago sun, during Lollapalooza.

“You chose to do this,” I told my aching feet and sweaty eyebrows. “Being momentarily uncomfortable does not make it a bad choice. You’ll only enjoy the rewards of your choice if you accept it and go from there.”

4. Hard choices. I discovered by about day 3 that a) It’s impossible to see/do everything that sounds interesting b)Even offered the choice to do everything is a kind of paralysis and c) Personally, I’d rather have meaningful interactions with 10 people than shallow 2 minute conversations with 100. This means there are people I love, attending the same conference as me, with whom who I cannot spend time. That sucks. It means I’ll be spending even more on airfare this year to see them all. Which doesn’t suck so much. It just is. It means that a giant media-rootie-kazootie is not perhaps the best place to link souls.

5. Where to look. Keep your eye on online video (Thank you gabillion dollar YouTube buyout), green technology (thank you Al Gore) and politics (thank you 2008 election) as spaces to watch for the next year. I’m sure there was more but can’t see how to document treeing my accessibility or pimping my GUi or kerning my Helvetica or whatever else you smarter people do, will effect the larger world in the same way.

6. Into the Heart. The soul of the conference, for me at least, remains the activities I do year after year (without Fray Cafe and 20×2, without dinner at the Castle Hill, plan on finding me at Coffee to the People next March) and the quality time I spend with people I admire and respect. I may not leave with a fabulous new idea every year but warmth of the interaction (including family) more than makes up for it.

It helps that Austin, even after moving away seven years ago, feels like a second home. I’d like to make a point of coming back at least one more time during the year.

7. Three ways. For the first time, I felt as though SXSW was three conferences. I had friends in town for just Interactive, just Film, just Music and several combinations I hadn’t considered. Each is its own experience. The days I enjoyed most are when I had a plan to do everything, did a little bit of everything that felt natural and gave myself time in between to eat, talk and get talked into doing something else.

8. Spore is going to set the world on its ear. It may be the excuse I’ve been looking for to upgrade iMacs.

9. Coming Home. Plan of action for all future Home-From-SXSW Re-Entries: Bring home as little media as possible, use available tools for exploring things missed at the festival, return emails and phone calls quickly, tell friends and family have arrived home safely, get good night’s sleep and non-Hush Puppy accompanied meal asap.

Re: Stack of magazines, Tivoed shows and podcasts the height of a city bus, declare bankruptcy.

10. Everything changes and nothing does. I was 25 when I started coming to SXSW, a bored, lonely graduate student with too much time and nowhere useful to put it. The Internet had hit its first stride. Google was a baby. Podcasting, vlogging and World of Warcraft were like flying cars.

I’m 33 now, a published author, a home and cat owner, less tough but happier now. I probably can’t hit 6 parties in an evening and know I don’t want to. That’s ok. I might have my kids to tend to one year like my friend Mike did. I’ll adjust and still make room for the things that matter most: Learning, growth, time with people I love and spring in a place that’s grown on me the longer I’ve been away.

This year was about acceptance. SXSW is bigger than any of us old timers had imagined it could be. That isn’t going to change. But this once intimate now enormous conference isn’t saying “go away” but rather “find your place.” The joy is no longer in collective experience but the one you make for yourself. That isn’t any less valuable, just different.

Beyond that, if you want to know why I keep coming back to Austin the second week of March every year, look at the masthead of the World Changing blog. It says “Another World is Here.”

Every year at SXSW, I live in this message. The future we not only dream of but want is attainable. In many ways, it’s already here. And it’s not being decided in corporate board rooms or the halls of Congress but here, amongst smart people with laptops who believe that good ideas can live without excluding good values or making a good living.

Isn’t that the adult world we dreamed of as children? One where work wasn’t necessary druggery but both allowed us to live comfortably and aid in the coming of a better world? One that wasn’t either or but both?

There is such optimism in Austin every spring. Despite the crowds, the noise, the gigantism of it all, the hope I feel sustains me for months afterword.

I had my doubts after 2006 whether I would be back. But when I am honest with myself, I can’t imagine being anywhere else in March of 2008 and beyond that. Even if it’s only for a few parties and a late night plate of migas, I will be back next year.

See you then, if not before.

Previous years: 2005, 2004, 2003, 2002

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