I’m talking to a woman in an otter onesie when the screaming starts. It’s 11:55 p.m. at the Union Square Barnes & Noble, and about 300 people — I see more elf ears than men in the crowd — are packed into the event space on the third floor. We’re here to count down to the midnight release of House of Flame and Shadow, book three of the massively popular “Crescent City†series, in which humans coexist alongside magical creatures and otters deliver the mail. It’s not clear who spots her as she ascends the escalator with her bodyguard and a small posse, but one scream becomes 300 screams before I register what’s happening. Then the noise doesn’t stop for almost a minute. I worry for the health of my eardrums and my audio recorder. Sarah J. Maas has arrived.
Maas’s books are epic fantasy novels with emotionally volatile faeries and sexy bat boys and, as of the last chapter in the second volume of “Crescent City,â€Â the possibility of an epic series crossover. That book’s final pages are notoriously shocking. (“I literally threw my book across the room,†the otter, AnnaBeth Crittenden, says when I ask her about them.) The books have strong female leads and complex world-building, and, maybe more important, “everybody’s hot,†as one person puts it to me. Maas’s books are big on TikTok and long, long, long. As multiple attendees note over the night, House of Flame and Shadow has 102 chapters; it is 839 pages, not including bonus chapters, and the audiobook runs for 29 hours and 42 minutes. Several people tell me they’re planning to read it tonight, and one says she took off work tomorrow to do so.
Maas’s appearance tonight is a surprise, and she swoops in and out with the air of a bona fide celebrity — or of J.K. Rowling circa 2007, when midnight Harry Potter book releases were a definite thing. As she addresses the crowd, I hear someone in the audience sobbing quietly. The speech is short but heavy on drama. “This night is about you guys. You are a force of nature,†Maas says. “You have no idea how much your love for these books and these characters and these series — they have given me more strength than you could possibly know. They have made me realize I have the strength to fight for myself.†“Yes, bitch, yes!†someone shouts back. More screams follow, and the countdown begins. “All right, you guys, go read the shit out of this book!†Maas yells, then she exits back down the escalator, bodyguard trotting behind her. I find the store’s publicist and ask if I can talk to Maas before she leaves, but no dice.
Hours before her arrival, a line of faux-black-leather-covered fans inched down 17th Street. Among them was a group of friends in their 20s who met last November in the line outside another midnight release party at the same Barnes & Noble, the one for Rebecca Yarros’s dragon “romantasy†Iron Flame. Maas is “a Swiftie,†they tell me after they make it inside the bookstore. “She loves Easter eggs; she likes to hide things in random areas.†Any predictions, I ask, for where this book might take readers? “There’s no prediction in my head,†one says. “I’m just here for the ride.â€
Upstairs, Catherine Cumming is more decisive: “I have three. Kaltain is the girl, the mercenary from the beginning of ‘ACOTAR,’ and she’s going to tie the books together. And then I think Ruhn is Rhys’s nephew. And I also believe that Gwyn is Helion’s grandmother.†Cumming is here from Washington State with her 6-month-old baby, Kealoha, who’s crawling around on a blanket beside her. “We’ve been out since 10 p.m. yesterday — we flew here from Seattle and landed at seven this morning,†she tells me. “We’re going straight back to the airport. I’m getting on the subway after this, and I’ll be reading it on the subway.â€
To kill the hours before everyone will be given a copy of the book and ushered out — no late-night binge-reading in the B&N aisles allowed — there’s a fan-theories table, a cardboard photo-op standee with a couple of balloons tied to it, and temporary-tattoo and origami stations. There’s a trivia contest, too, but apparently it’s not for casual readers. “I’m going to have to Google half of these, which is kind of embear-bear,†I hear someone say to her friend.
At a table in the café, I find sisters Sheryl and Sarah in matching rhinestone makeup and sparkly shoes. Have they seen any of the leaks online, I ask? “No! No! Don’t scare me,†says Sheryl. She opens her phone to show me the folders of fan art she has for each series, all full of hundreds of images she has saved from the internet. “There’s art for every single page,†she says. “It almost makes it like a graphic novel.†Sarah hasn’t read any Maas — she has to finish The Count of Monte Cristo first. “It’s just a man starting drama, so that’s fun,†she says.
Other people are just sitting around with books or Kindles. “I’m reading an ARC, To Gaze Upon Wicked Gods,†says Rivka Demidovich. “I was a Bookstagrammer for a long time, and I’m in recovery.†Her copy of House of Flame and Shadow showed up early, and she read it immediately (“I had to work, so it took me two and a half daysâ€). The book, she says, left her feeling ambivalent — after the dramatic collision of worlds, there are still unanswered questions, she thinks, and no resolution in sight. “It was just like, Why? Why is she doing this?†So why come to the release? “I don’t think I’m ever doing this again,†she says. “It’s past my bedtime. I live in Brooklyn. I have to get back home.â€
Everyone seems a little tired by the time a raffle for HOFAS-branded tote bags starts, but all that turns to delirium once the author shows up. “This is literally the best 41st-birthday gift ever,†says Evey Alvarez, who runs an “ACOTAR†group on Facebook that has 30,000 followers. Crittenden finds me to apologize for screaming in my direction earlier, and at the bookstore café, a B&N employee tells me they sold about two times as many iced chais as usual. Everyone looks a little shell-shocked as we file back down the escalators, and by the time we reach the ground floor, Maas is long gone. “It’s my birthday!†I hear Alvarez shout from the sidewalk, and the yelling kicks up again.