HCI's expansion lends this year's proceedings an urgency that repeat visitors say was lacking at previous summits. There are four Saturday sessions instead of three. Moderators seem intent on extracting as many lessons as possible. As the session winds down, they ask one person to summarize. It's one step shy of asking for "takeaways" at the end of a corporate board meeting. Later, I realize why the session leaders show so much interest in our discoveries: They're under pressure from their supervisors to come up with results.

The question, of course, is how exactly they use the information gathered. My query is answered several weeks later when I receive a booklet in the mail with the wisdom accrued from Saturday's sessions. Among the lessons learned:

"The teen market will be hot."

"Home-based business books" will be a "hot book topic of the future."

"With more people working from home, a book on how to separate your work/family time; how to deal with burnout, seclusion, etc."

Others are muddled, but meatier:

"1989 [sic] marked the end of the post World-War II era, with the dissolution of the Communist bloc nations. This dissolution paved the way for the millennial fluidity that is beginning now. Spirituality/community and holistic/health well-being are becoming more and more important to people."

Others are simply deluded: One category "might be called 'holistic business.' Basically, it would acknowledge the movement that is bringing spirituality into the workplace."

And then, the obvious: "Publishers should look for ways to provide products to bookstores."

Yet there's something refreshing about all this. Unlike, say, Random House, which exudes confidence (whether false or genuine) at every turn, HCI, in its willingness to hold this conference, offers a tacit acknowledgment that it is as much in the dark as anyone else regarding how this strange book business works. Still, I can't help but feel that its naiveté works against it, makes it open to suggestions that aren't necessarily in its best interest (should a throwaway comment about recovery really be taken that seriously?) and sends it scurrying off in different directions without sufficient evidence.

By Saturday night, however, most of these concerns are forgotten. After the dirty work of determining the future of the book business, HCI brings on the entertainment. I had heard tales of the sheer over-the-top quality to the event, and indeed, the company has spared no expense. Performers on stilts, a calypso band and garish desserts are a few of the touches. It all seems a little schmaltzy, which, of course, is the point. I mention this to a woman affiliated with HCI who has a somewhat removed, even cynical, attitude about the weekend, adding that one participant in particular seems strange, though plugged in. She quips, "Yeah, she's plugged in all rright, but someone forgot to hit the rese' button."

"Kind of like HCI," I mutter, and, though I can't be sure, I think I detect a small smile.

Maya Angelou reads from "The Heart of a Woman"