Snippets of New York

You know that moment when the plane finally gets in the sky? You’ve just spent the last couple hours fretting about making sure you had everything packed, going through security (taking those heals or boots or easy flip-flops off), rushing to find your gate (sometimes even traveling the whole length of the airport before spotting the desired letter and number suspended over a doorway), waiting for too long to board the plane, feeling your heart drop when it’s mentioned that you have to check your bag because they don’t have room on the plane. Do they have room for you? Well.. yes, they have room for you, but it’s awkwardly squished between strangers and the plane… just… sits. It sits for ten minutes? Doing nothing? I’m already feeling claustrophobic. Even though you aren’t usually one that minds enclosed spaces.

Then the plane starts moving, taxying, and there are announcements playing over the speakers and an instructional video playing on the screen in front of you. Yes. Let’s watch actors smile awkwardly as they talk reeeaaalllllyyyy slooooooowwwwwlllyyyyyyy. Then everything starts shaking. It feels like an earthquake had a love child with a tornado. It’s noisy and headache inducing and the child two rows in front of you starts screaming.

You’re speeding up, getting ready for takeoff. Is the plane actually secure? Anything that makes this much racket can’t be safe!

Then the front wheels lift off and you can feel it in your chest; just a slight incline. The noise only softens slightly.

When the back wheels come off, you feel it in your stomach. Everything drops, and you feel like you’re falling. The child makes another loud noise, but it’s not a scream of terror this time. It’s something akin to the noise one would make at an amusement park—a squeal of entertainment!

You glance outside, and the world gets smaller and smaller. The land that you call home is split in to simple, geometric shapes. The streets are practically perfectly gridded; it’s almost earie. Then everything is white, pure white. You feel a little suffocated again. Feel it in your chest. You need something, some sort of color, but no. It’s just white.

“You from Salt Lake?”

You’re glad for the distraction from your panic but talking to strangers always induces an anxiety on its own. “Park City, actually. What about you?”

The conversation is light, simple. Somehow, you are talking about Italy and the desire to go back to Europe is strong—very strong. You forget your panic, forget the desire to see color, forget fear and stress and worries.

The conversation only continues for a little while, but it’s nice. It’s relaxing and relieving. You glance outside and there…

Color.

A plethora of blues and silvers and yellows and greens. Even reds and purples reflect off of the clouds and it seems to sparkle. A sea, a whirlwind. Heartbreaking and beautiful and it’s just clouds. How can clouds evoke so many emotions? It’s probably the high altitude, but you are above the world and you can feel it. It’s invigorating. It’s confusing. I’m just on a plane. This is nothing special.

But it is. It’s so special that the chest that had been restricting just moments before is now trying desperately to contain a wildly beating heart, so moved and excited at the prospects of this journey that it seems like it is trying to both leap into the future and suspend time all at once.

Nothing makes sense, yet everything is clear.

Maybe that’s not a normal feeling to receive when flying, but that’s what I felt when I took off today. Even writing this, I’m feeling elevated (hah. Maybe that’s because I’m 20,000 feet above?) even though the moment of takeoff was a while ago and everyone has settled into their seats and their panicked hearts are at peace in the chest cavity.

In any case. New York City, here I come!

The first thing that caught me off guard about NYC was how often people honked when they drove. I was sitting in the back of a cab beside my coworker, on the way to our hotel, and I couldn’t help but jump every time someone honked, which was often. Sooo very often.

My coworker kept laughing at me, and we both reflected on how different the noise level was compared to that in Salt Lake City, Utah. The driving style was vastly different, too. It’s not very often that I feel sick in a car, but I had to focus really hard to keep the snacks I had eaten on the plane where they belonged.

Before long, we made it to our hotel and… roughly fifteen minutes later, two coworkers and I went out to explore the Big Apple.

Walking in NYC is intense, to say the least. You have to be sure about yourself, and you can’t be afraid of running in to people or pushing through them. You just have to set your chin high and push forward, both consistently aware and oblivious of the people around you.

It’s overwhelming and beautiful and fascinating and distracting and… indescribable, really, especially if you come from a place that is relatively empty and open where people know your name and half of the costumers in the little café/diner are regulars. In New York, you don’t recognize people on the streets. If you’re separated from your group, you better hope you know where to go because you’ll have to meet your group at your destination. It’s an entirely different world.

I watched two shows on Broadway: Waitress and Spongebob Squarepants the Musical… Honestly? Don’t ask me how I ended up at the second, because I’m still not sure (but I’m incredibly glad I saw it!).

Let me tell you something about Broadway shows, based off of my observations of these two musicals.

The sets are incredible, the music is even better, and there are just no words for the choreography and creativity of… well… everything. As a theatre nerd, I could probably go on and on about these two shows, and the level of skill each bit took to create, but that will have to be saved for another post where I can… properly gush.

The reason I went to New York was because of Bookcon. My company was kind enough to let me tag on so I could learn a thing or two about trade shows. I spent somewhere around sixteen hours pitching books to fans like me, learning just what it took to catch someone’s eye, as well as listening to other people pitch books and merch.

While there is still a lot for me to learn from these types of shows, I can guarantee that in order to be noticed and get people genuinely interested in what you are promoting, you must:

• Have a positive attitude—it is imperative that you respond to questions and comments with a genuine smile (while carrying yourself with proper posture)
• Know about your product—if you are working for a company, know who the founder is/was. If you are selling your own books/merch, don’t be afraid to let people know where the idea came from.
• Be excited to share—similar to keeping a positive attitude, you must be able to share the details about your product with vigor. How do you expect to get someone excited for a book if the only thing you can say about it is, “it’s not bad”?
• Stay hydrated—water is essential to keeping your mind clear enough to complete all of the steps above. If there is one thing that I insist you keep on hand at all times, it is a water bottle.

I’m sure you’ve read similar things on multiple different blogs, but it really is important enough to read multiple times. Honestly? Those are pretty good things to remember for just about anything!

The nerd in me is bubbling and trying to get out… so….

It was so cool being surrounded by so many books and publishers and authors! I met Brandon Mull (I grew up on his books) and a few other authors and it was just so awesome!!!

There is a chance, especially if I’m going to build a career in publishing (which is what I’m thinking of doing), that I will end up in NYC. I’m not going to lie, this experience, the weekend I spent in the metropolis of busy bodies, was incredible, and I probably wouldn’t mind living there…

But let me tell you. I would definitely miss my mountains and the canyon roads with perfect pullouts to write in.