Sydney is a believer in the written word; more specifically, the printed word, words that are printed in ink on paper. She has a hard time with e-readers.

Sydney is a believer in bookstores, the actual kind, where you can wander around and freely judge books by their covers. (A book she won’t buy: one that has on its cover a photo of the back of a woman’s head. That just bugs her.)

Sydney appreciates the convenience of ordering books online, but it’s more difficult to come across something unexpected that way. She doesn’t like how online you get pegged as a certain kind of reader: Did you enjoy this book? Then you probably only want to read other books just like it! Even if that were true, which it may well be, the assumption still makes her crabby.

Fortunately for her, actual bookstores still exist in NYC. One of the advantages of actual bookstores is that they host actual events. In NYC, you could attend a literary event every evening if you wanted to. You could probably attend two. You could learn about a world of subjects, you could meet every kind of writer. Here is Sydney at McNally Jackson, attending a reading of a new anthology, This Is the Place: Women Writing About Home. Btw, there’s another event going on upstairs in the café.

Sydney likes to sit in the front row at readings, because otherwise she can’t see a thing. This means she has to arrive early. One thing about attending any event in NYC: you never have any idea how many other people will be there. There could be crowds, lines, jostling, annexation of chairs with coats and bags: or it could be (especially at readings) just you, all by yourself. Sydney doesn’t mind either way, but she is always early, just in case.

Sydney likes to hear writers read their work aloud. It puts their voice behind their voice. A book can be an entertainment and/or an education, but a reading is a live interaction. At this particular reading, one of the readers tells the audience that she had a shitty day. The audience responds with sympathetic noises.

Sydney always gets her copy of the book signed, so she can meet the writer. Writers are usually very grateful that you came out to support them, or anyway the less famous ones are. NYC is often viewed as an impenetrable, impersonal city, but in fact New York offers more opportunities for face-to-face encounters with writers than much smaller towns. Because everybody wants to come read in NYC.

Sydney is made of corduroy pants. Corduroy pants are tricky because the worn out parts are quite visibly worn out and have to be avoided. Her dress was a sweater sleeve and her vest was a wool sock. She, like many literary types, carries an absurdly large tote bag. If this bag were full of books, there would be no way she could carry it. This one is made of a tote bag I got as a free souvenir from running a women-only 10K many years ago. It was a quite small, flimsy, and not-useful tote bag in its former life, but in its new context it has heft.