San Joaquin Valley Bookfest is being planned in Fresno to celebrate local authors | Opinion

If we built it, would they come? This was the question poking at me one afternoon last December, my imagination sparking in the winter sun. We could have a regional festival celebrating books and the people who write them. Sure, it would take some work. But I sensed the need, a pent-up demand. How could we make this happen?

I let the idea percolate a few days, making sure it wasn’t a fleeting fantasy. Then it was time to start planning.

A project of this scope would require more than my own efforts. I knew a good number of people in town, but certainly fewer in our local writing circles. The assistance of others was crucial. What followed were generous acts of community: Fresno Poet Laureate Joseph Rios agreed to help as soon as I asked. Mark Arax, a longtime preserver of San Joaquin Valley tales, immediately jumped on board. Lilia Gonzales-Chavez and her talented crew at the Fresno Arts Council offered their assistance. Board president Ian Wieland and the management team of Fig Garden Swim and Racquet Club allowed the use of their garden. Bright energies were melding together. As soon as we announced the event, local writers began to sign up.

The driving goal of the San Joaquin Valley Bookfest is to forge a place —and a day — where we can champion the work of local writers. Fresno County has a million people living within its boundaries, yet not one independent brick-and-mortar bookstore that broadly supports adult readers.

We have great libraries. We have a big-box bookseller, Target, and Costco. We have places to buy used books. Petunia’s Place thrives in selling its children’s titles. A number of young entrepreneurs have been popping up online and in small spaces to sell curated booklists, a wonderful pivot. Yet the work of many authors falls into the chasm of minimal exposure.

Ask any writer from the Valley who dreams of finding the way into the large distribution arms of traditional publishing. Gaining notice is almost impossible. If you can’t get your work placed in a bookstore in Berkeley or Boston, you won’t likely see your title stacked on the bedside table of a reader in Birmingham.

I remember the first book reading I attended. It was in 1995, soon after the late Philip Levine published “The Simple Truth,” a poetry collection that would later win a Pulitzer Prize. A small newspaper blurb had advertised the event. I showed up feeling awkward, walking into a moderately sized banquet room at the Piccadilly Hotel on West Shaw Avenue, not knowing what to expect. Levine proceeded to read a few of his poems. I was hooked.

Fast forward to 2011: Levine had become the poet laureate of the United States. That summer, he was a keynote speaker at the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, a storied place in Vermont where I had miraculously landed a spot. At an outdoor meet-and-greet, I inched toward a group of Important People and caught wind that the books Levine was planning to read from had been lost in travel.

Tentatively, I introduced myself and shared that I had his newest volume with me, along with the prize-winner I had bought all those years ago in Fresno. He was happy to borrow my books. To this day, I cherish the small scraps of torn paper he had pushed between the pages of “News of the World” as he prepped for his presentation at the Little Theater.

Not every meaningful book wins a prize. Yet every book has meaning. Good literature and bad literature serve a similar purpose. They take you on a ride. I’ve read plenty of junk, enjoying some of it as much as the heady stuff. The gift is that I get to pick what I read. But I can’t choose a book if I don’t know of its existence.

The San Joaquin Valley Bookfest aims to create a space where all kinds of writing from our area can stand in the world and shine. We will celebrate with readings, book signings, and a pop-up bookstore. A special power lies in the wisdom that writers share and the questions they pose. We’re grateful to all those who support our goal.

A bit of blind faith is fueling this project. We’re confident much goodness will follow.

We hope to see you on May 4. Get your tickets through Eventbrite.