One day (April 11), I'm at Columbia University taking notes on the literature of Philip Roth among English professors, literature students and prize-winning biographers.

A week later (April 18), I'm sitting in an overheated meeting room in the Hilton Pittsburgh, the only man among 30 fan-waving perspiring women learning "How to Write a Best-Selling Romance."

So it goes for the only full-time book editor of the Keystone State, a dubious honor, but one I take seriously.

Newspapers might be cutting back, but there's more and more happening in publishing and writing than ever and it needs to be reported.

My latest foray into that world was the four-day Romantic Times Booklovers Convention, a national trade show that settled into Pittsburgh this year.

It drew 300 writers and more than 1,300 fans, gawkers and hopeful novelists into the 1960s-era hotel now undergoing renovation.

Also in the house: "Gorgeous hunks," those sculptured-body dudes whose waist-length hair and brawny chests decorate the covers of the bodice-ripper genre.

I didn't find any ripped underwear, but a discussion between best-selling authors Lisa Jackson ("Lost Souls" is her latest of more than 20 heart-pounders) and Eric Jerome Dickey ("Waking With Enemies" is a new title in his line of 14 "edgy, steamy" books).

Hopeful authors looking for "secrets" were disappointed. Jackson and Dickey emphasized believable plots, attractive characters, a few "twists" and, of course, lovemaking. At that suggestion, the fans waved faster.

Dickey also took the hard-headed approach to his work, despite its "romantic" label.

"Your book's a product, regardless of how you look at it," he said. "Make it something people want to read and pass on. You don't want your book left on the train."

One more strategy from Dickey:

Spend the first week of your book's release doing events in bookstores that report their sales to the New York Times best-seller list.

Interesting move, one that points up the fact that best-seller figures can be manipulated.

As for book-signings, Lisa Jackson pointed out:

"It's a lot easier to do them when alcohol is involved."

See, writing isn't only about hard work and talent.

The "great poet of the Ohio River," as named by poet and friend Michael Harper, was James Wright, a Martins Ferry, Ohio, native, who died of cancer at 52 in 1980.

The next year, his admirers started a festival in his honor at the Martins Ferry Public Library, where it flourished for more than 20 years.

Many Pittsburghers, including me, frequently trekked down the Ohio because we enjoyed the rare combination of superb poets and the grassroots support of the community.

Sadly, the organizers shut down the two-day tribute to Wright after last year's festival.

Yvonne Myers, director of the library, said the many of the founding members of the fest board cut back participation over the years.

"It just boiled down to two or three members including me, and the work became too much. We might hold an anniversary event in 2010," she said.

In its 26 years, the Wright festival attracted an impressive lineup of poets to Martins Ferry.

Among the visitors:

Robert Bly, Donald Hall, Galway Kinnell, Hayden Carruth, Robert Creely, Campbell McGrath, Robert Haas, Sharon Olds, Yousef Komunyakaa, Li-Young Lee, Linda Gregg, Billy Collins, Carolyn Forche, Stanley Kunitz, Jean Valentine, Franz Wright (son of James) Carolyn Kizer and Harper.

Regional poets include Ed Ochester, Gerald Stern, Judith Vollmer, Lynn Emanuel, Toi Derricotte and Maggie Anderson.

The weekend event was always opened by Annie Wright, widow of the poet, and included a Saturday supper often in one of the town's churches.

For recaps of previous Wright festivals, go to the Post-Gazette Web site and search for our coverage from past years.