My LBF: Juliet Pickering, agent and director, Blake Friedmann

I’ve been in this game for more than 20 years now, so I’ve definitely lost count, but let’s say I’ve had 20 years’ worth of London Book Fairs minus one pandemic and one baby.

I remember going to the first one, believing that a book “fair” would be some kind of celebratory festival with loads of free books (for me). I was suitably chastened by the lines of desks at the International Rights Centre (where agents hang out) and receiving zero free books – but I did get my first tote bag.

I can’t remember my favourite LBF party, which is as it should be. But I hold very fond memories of dinners with friends and colleagues, including a fabulous Becky Thomas dinner at Brasserie Zédel, with some of the finest women in publishing. Those are the events you look forward to all day, when you can put the world to rights and finally relax after an insane day of meetings.

I remember staggering out of LBF one particularly frantic year, in need of five minutes of fresh air, and finding my good friend Louise Lamont [from LBA] outside on the kerb doing similar. I’ve a feeling we greeted each other then sat in amicable and very welcome silence together before heaving ourselves up and back in…

I always look forward to seeing the long-term publishers for my authors, the wonderful editors who stand by a writer through thick and thin, and whose lives I know a little of now too, so we have a great catch-up on books and life.

I’m out on submission with an extraordinary novel called Love and Malice, by Jemma Wayne, about a family of Polish-Jewish immigrants in 1930s Brooklyn, and the rise and
fall of one of five sisters. It’s based on the author’s grandmother’s story, and it’s fierce, furious and full of love. I’ve also just closed on a beautiful new book about artists and bodily trauma by Kat Lister, called Fragile Bodies.

After the fair, I tend to head back into central, as Kensington is not my usual patch. I’ve had many an Aperol spritz and restorative helping of pasta at Trullo, in Highbury; I’d feel bereft if that wasn’t my Wednesday evening every LBF.

Real-life fairs, and LBF, still matter. We’re often email-only pitchers and negotiators – we don’t even have that many calls anymore – so sitting down with someone IRL is a much-appreciated chance to catch up quickly and effectively, and gives you a much clearer sense of the other person. And, honestly, I don’t think a first pitch ever delivers better than in person: if your colleagues can see how excited you are by a book, that energy is infectious. Plus, [the late Blake Friedmann co-founder] Carole [Blake] always told us that fair meetings were great for making slow payers squirm and cough up, and – as ever – she was right!

My advice this week is don’t expend all your energy on the prep; but once the prep is done, you’re halfway there, so relax and enjoy it. And we all get those tough meetings where someone has no chat: it’s fine to say an enthusiastic “thanks” for their time, and wrap up after 15 minutes.

I love LBF because I enjoy seeing so many friends and colleagues under one roof, and reminding myself why this industry is one I stick with: for the books and the people.