FIL

I’ve got a post over at The Dallas Morning News’ books blog with a few highlights of my time at the FIL. Missing it there already. Although, you know, it’s good to finally not feel exhausted.

I have a few more pictures to share of Guadalajara, but I’m too tired to do anything today, so I’ll get to it next week. You’ve got to see Mercado San Juan de Dios, which is three stories tall and has everything you’ve ever wanted, and things you never even knew you wanted. (Like paper lanterns printed with poinsettas!)

*Ray Bradbury, right, sits with his biographer Sam Weller, via videoconference at the Feria Internacional del Libro in Guadalajara

Before I get into Ray Bradbury, I must tell you how freaking kick-ass this event is. Thousands of people, hungry for books and literature, spend hours buying books, and discussing writing and literature. And this year they’re talking about L.A., a city close to my heart. It’s truly heaven.

Yesterday, in between browsing books about Chicano culture in L.A. (a subject I’m so intrigued by, I’d love to have my own Chicano-L.A. library someday, possibly as an ethnic companion to the Man Room) — I caught Ray Bradbury via videoconference in one of the event’s salon rooms. Maybe 200 people were there, and about a third of the crowd looked like young students, maybe late high school or early-college age. The girl behind me squealed when Bradbury’s face appeared on the screen.

I haven’t read a lot of Bradbury’s work, but I do respect the man as a legend. He’s 89 now and slightly hard of hearing, but he conveyed warmth and personality. He joked with the crowd, telling us he wished he could tango with everyone after the panel ended. He somehow managed to sounded humble and matter-of-fact when he mentioned that he pounded out the first version of Fahrenheit 451 in nine days, on a rented typewriter inside a library. A classic — nine days!

When asked about the secret to his longevity, Bradbury said he surrounds himself with love. Anyone who doesn’t believe in you, he warned the crowd, should be dismissed from your life.

“Tell them, Ray Bradbury told me to fire you,” he said, jutting a plump finger at the screen. “Get outta my life.”

I loved him. He also drank wine and ate crackers during the Q&A portion with the audience.

There’s really so much to see and do here, it’s hard to pick just one event. It’s like trying to choose a band at the ACL festival. Yesterday, after Ray Bradbury, I checked out a panel on surrealist writers of L.A., most of whom said they hated the title “surrealist.” (They’re loosely defined as writers who reject the traditional forms of writing, either by including fantastical sequences, playing with fonts and graphic design, etc.)

After that I browsed some more books, and headed to a discussion of a new book called “Mexico City Noir,” a series of short stories about crime and violence in el D.F. Bought a copy and can’t wait to read it, especially because one story focuses on the most dangerous street corner in Mexico, as deemed by local police. (It’s in Doctores.)

Today I’m headed to a Q&A with Cheech Marin, a discussion with award-winning LA Weekly food critic Jonathan Gold, and possibly a panel entitled “Los Angeles in a Tequila Shot.” Should be fun. Will be back later with more!