Being the well-informed lady that I am, of course I knew all about the Salon des éditeurs indépendants that was going on in the Marais from the 11th-14th November. So I was not in the least surprised to almost bump into it after delicately sampling a teeny tiny falafel on Sunday afternoon.
Wiping aubergine from my coat, and clutching my bumph plus badge, myself and a friend wandered around the huge gallery filled with stands advertising hundreds of independent publishers from around France. Books of all genres, produced with such care and attention, put the mass-produced work from mainstream conglomorate houses to shame (I do generalise here, there are of course some publishing houses who have kept their integrity).
I picked up the most beautifully put-together little cookbook, and had to drag myself away from pocket-sized philosophy pamphlets produced in soft card and bound with string… This is strictly a no-personal-present season for reasons financial *.
So, if you were thinking about popping over to have a browse and learn more about independent publishing in France, you can’t. Or at least you will have to hang around in the Marais for another year, which isn’t the worst place to wait for a book fair to come around again.
*I feel bad now. I did actually treat myself to a Bobbi Brown lipstick last week…which means my Christmas budget is now severely depleted. Oops.