At the National Book Festival

As some­one who was priv­i­leged to be part of this year’s Nation­al Book Fes­ti­val, (Wash­ing­ton DC) it was won­der­ful to see huge num­bers of peo­ple turn out to hear about and share their love of books. Writ­ers talked to large crowds about poet­ry and pic­ture books, his­to­ry and hor­ti­cul­ture, fic­tion and fish­ing. There were peo­ple of all ages, scam­per­ing kids galore, and old­er folks, some in wheel chairs, plus mul­ti­tudes of young cou­ples clutch­ing hands and books—in dou­ble-hand­ed affec­tion. Glo­ri­ous weath­er. For book­ends, the dome of the Cap­i­tal at one end of the Mall, the Wash­ing­ton Mon­u­ment at the oth­er. When I spoke, and the time for ques­tions came, there were more kids lined up than adults. “How does it feel to be a writer?” asked one young read­er. Right then and there, the answer was “Good!” (and very hon­ored to be there).