Author Adventures: KGB Bar
In December, I attended my first real-world author event: Fantastic Fiction at KGB, a free-to-attend monthly speculative fiction series in New York City.
A writer friend recommended it as part of a larger discussion about “putting myself out there” in person. Like any industry, publishing is easier to break into if you have connections. Eventually, I plan to attend conferences designed for networking and building those connections. This event at a dimly-lit bar in the East Village wasn’t that, but it was a start. A way to dip my toes in the water. To witness how the community interacts, and maybe interact with that community, in person.
And when I saw that Holly Black (author of The Folk of the Air series, which I devoured mere months before) was one of the two authors, I decided to go for it.
The day of the event, I hopped on the train in New Haven, Connecticut, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, the Lessons in Chemistry audio book playing in my ear.
Within a couple of hours, I was in Times Square. After a failed attempt, I found my hotel (turns out there are multiple Holiday Inn Express hotels in Times Square—newbie mistake), dropped off my things, and met a friend for dinner. She decided to come along. We jammed into the crowded subway and headed downtown.
Big surprise: I wasn’t the only one excited to see Holly Black. KGB Bar was packed. When my high-heeled friend realized that, she decided to support me from the comfort of a bar stool across the street.
Even alone, my elbows brushing those around me, with a giant coat wadded up in my arms, I loved every moment. S.L. Coney (left) went first. She read a passage from her novella, Wild Spaces, and I was enraptured enough to buy a signed copy afterward. Holly Black (right) read part of an unreleased short story from the perspective of a Folk character. She had us giggling more than once. On the verge of tears at least twice.
I met all of one person: another fan of Black’s who was kind enough to hold my bulky coat and my place in the crowd while I used the bathroom. We got to talking, and when I told her that I'm authoring my own book, she sweetly asked for my Instagram so she could follow my progress.
I arrived on the steps of KGB Bar with low expectations. I simply wanted to expose myself to the unfamiliar world I someday hoped to be a part of. But I left the bar two hours later having gained a signed copy of a beautiful novella, a whole follower, and a glowing ember of motivation.
Because I would be lying if I said I didn’t spend at least part of the reading imagining myself at that podium one day, telling my own story to a crowded room.