Sunday smorgasbord

Frankfurt Book Fair, the eye-popping excess (in every sense) in Disney's adaptation of Jilly Cooper's Rivals, and three books I've loved lately

I write this on the hoof as it has been a week. As a result, you will find no overt theme or order here. Merely a disparate scattering of thoughts and reads.

I have been at Frankfurt Book Fair, which is - in new job terms - the equivalent of learning to dive and starting with the 20m board and attempting a reverse 4½ somersault in the pike position.

My new job is not unrelated to my previous career iteration. In a world where everything is content - as Nora Ephron would doubtless say, were she around today, I am content director for BookBrunch, a website that serves the publishing industry. However, I have been accustomed to coming in in the final furlong: holding a proof or near-enough finished novel in my hand. The reviewing and interviewing, talking-about-the-book, exhorting others to read it stage. Not the business end. And Frankfurt Book Fair is very much the business end. If you’re thinking author talks and signings- rewind. It’s the rights and deals. Ideas and developments. The future of books in the making.

Frankfurt is held in a sprawling (but terribly well-organised and signposted - this is Germany) conference centre, called the Messe. It is made up of six halls, each containing more than one floor - hence when planning a meeting, instructions read along the lines of ‘6.1, 345’ which is brain-boggling, at first. The place is vast.

I received the advice to ‘wear flat shoes’ approximately 22 times before departing - this was wise. There is a lot of dashing. There is also a lot to catch and distract the eye. There’s Elif Shafak on stage! A tree of knowledge in the middle of India! An edifice to Sarah Jane Maas! (Romantasy is still very much a thing.) The big five publishers have shiny stands, with backlit images of their bestsellers, and copies of putative bestsellers lined up on the shelves. They are set up like very chic cafes, every table occupied by two people engaged in what looks like intense debate - which they probably are, as this is the trading floor of the publishing world. Think Wolf of Wall Street, minus the nudity.

The other raison d'être of Frankfurt is networking. Publishing is madly social. Publishing also loves a drink. Come 5pm, the stand parties begin and a party atmosphere descends upon the Messe. Some are really rather fancy, with champagne and proper canapes. Others are all about cheap fizz and crisps. (I am very partial to a cheap crisp.) But what it is mostly about is meeting, greeting and attempting to charm people. Let me tell you something about publishing (yes, Natasha, do tell us): the people are great. They are warm, generous with their knowledge, experience and contacts - and there is very little by way of gatekeeping.

Frankfurt airport, incidentally is the precise opposite. It is all about gatekeeping. EU passport holders were probably at their final destination by the time I reached the front of the ‘All other passports’ queue. (Do they chortle every day ‘this’ll learn them for Brexit’?) By way of compensation, fate dealt me a great hand on the flight: I chatted to a really bright, sparky, interesting woman, and then I discovered the great beauty of flying into London City airport: from plane to tube in five minutes flat. The satisfactory bliss of it.

I was meant to be hightailing it to Cookham yesterday to interview the clever, funny and decidedly stylish Bella Mackie, but she - poor woman - has been struck down by tonsillitis. I am very sorry for Bella, the lovely bookshop, and the disappointed bookworms/fans (nothing wrenches the heart like a disappointed bookworm), but a. it will be rescheduled and b. This gave me the excuse to curl up with some really good stuff…

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