How to Survive the MLA Conference

(Or Die Trying)

By SUP Marketing & Publicity

On Friday, January 6^th, I found myself fully dressed and yet, still afraid at the Moscone Convention Center for the MLA conference.

MLA (the Modern Language Association for the uninitiated) was my first conference as a marketing assistant at SUP. I was joined by my colleagues, Emma, Sabrina, and Lizzie. Supposedly, MLA was going to be “wonderful” and “affirm [our] love for university publishing.” (Quote provided by a senior member at the Press.)

But. It wasn’t that simple.

Dressed in my professional yet frisky J. Crew blazer – the one my mom had picked out for me when I had my first job interview with my local municipal water park – I quickly found out that navigating an academic conference as an exhibitor meant avoiding the throes of death. But as I waded through the murky waters, I took plenty of notes:

1. Always be armed (with a phone camera.)

Cameras should be prepped for all QR codes. Blink and you might miss. Take a photo, you might also miss. A steady aim and a steady gaze are necessary.

Did you end up missing our QR code? Unfortunately, I did too. My boss had to forward me the link when he was at his hair appointment, so, here’s our virtual exhibit.

2. Hunt and gather.

I was told to pack lightly, but I did not know why. Soon enough, I found out: books in torrential downpour. Discounted books, free books, tote bags, even temporary tattoos. Some talk of permanent tattoos, at least over at Norton. Sunday was an ink-bath, with display copies being auctioned off to the loudest bidder. I brought a megaphone, but it was confiscated from me by one of the Moscone badge checkers.

Things were getting serious, quickly.

In between clashes of thunder and bites of delicious falafel from the Oasis Grill, my colleague Lizzie whispered that “the short story dispenser was a hit in [her] eyes.”

Alarmed, I asked if she was okay, noticing her lack of protective eyewear (mistake number one… all literary aficionados never leave home without their glasses).

She later clarified that this was an expression, unravelling the short story scroll she received. I sighed in relief.

3. Know thy enemy.

But I did not bask in relief. In fact, I had very few opportunities to bask. And as I stood at attention, there was a sudden rush of people. I panicked. I retreated under our decorative booth for privacy. Then, Sabrina lifted the curtain to inform me that these were merely the authors of our books! Suddenly, all the dots began to connect. The fog began to clear. I embraced our visitors (i.e. our authors) with outstretched arms!

“Pretty often in this job, you become familiar with author’s names but not their faces. Behind every esteemed book is a person who just really excited to see their work become a tangible thing.” – Emma, survivor of the MLA conference.

So, we made it out alive… this time. Take a look below for some of our picture-perfect moments: from the vibrant Kathleen Lubey to the illustrious Ronjaunee Chatterjee, the Stanford Press booth was the place to be.