Susanne Stemmer · Founder & Creative Director

When our second Ilvie Little book was about to be released, I thought: perfect timing. We’ll take it to the Vienna Book Fair. There was just one small problem: I hadn’t quite figured out the timing and pace of the book industry yet.

I came from advertising, where things tend to happen fast. So, about two weeks before the fair, I called the Austrian Publishers and Booksellers Association and asked about joining their shared stand with our grand total of two books. They were very kind. They almost didn’t laugh. The shared stand had, of course, been fully booked for months.

Then the next day, the phone rang. Someone had cancelled. A 12-square-metre stand had suddenly become available — at a really good price. And suddenly I panicked. All those established publishers with hundreds of books — and me, a newcomer to the industry with two books and an idea about changing the way children see what girls can be. Nope. Too embarrassing.

That evening I called my friend Claudia. “Are you crazy? You’re the master of staging things. Of course you’re doing it. And if necessary, I’ll dress up as a pirate and run through the aisles.” Fair point.

So the question changed: How do you fill 12 square metres with two books and almost no budget? Obviously, you build a pirate ship.

I called my friend Harry, a carpenter and stage designer in Salzburg. “Harry. We have a mission.” The Anastasia had to fit the stand, be safe for children, meet trade-fair requirements — and come apart so we could transport her in a van. Harry said yes. So we drove to Salzburg and built her. At some point I stood in the workshop covered in paint, looking at the guys in their work coats with pink paint in their hair. Yeah.

We loaded the Anastasia into a van while parts of the paint were still wet and drove her to Vienna. The next morning, we were the first ones at the fair. Slowly, the other publishers began arriving. They stood in front of their shelves, deciding where to place their books.
Meanwhile, we were still carrying half a pink pirate ship through the exhibition hall. My friend Poli disappeared almost completely behind one particularly large — and still slightly wet — piece of it. She looked over at the other stands. Then at us.

“I guess we’re the freaks.”