The Flip, the Estante Virtual House, and the Power of Creating Connections

Paraty, during Flip, is not just a picture-perfect postcard. It’s a living organism, pulsing with literature through every street, square, and house open to the public. The city transforms: cobblestones welcome the hurried footsteps of readers rushing to an unmissable panel, restaurants always have a celebrated author at dinner, and the conversations echoing through the streets always share a common thread — books.

This year, I experienced that atmosphere with a special flavor. It was my 12th Flip as a professional in the book market — but my first leading Estante Virtual. It’s curious how time changes our perspective: from an enchanted newcomer in 2014, walking in disbelief at what I saw, to a moment of maturity, yet still with the same butterflies in my stomach as before. The difference now is that, in addition to absorbing, I also help to build.

The Estante Virtual House entered the program as a space to celebrate reading in an open, democratic, and heartfelt way. It’s not just an address — it’s a meeting point where tradition and innovation talk naturally. Among the panels and debates, we saw Milton Cunha speak about how “literature can also give us samba,” and hosted encounters with Conceição Evaristo, Geni Nuñez, Afonso Cruz, Marcelino Freire, Jessé Andarilho, and Jeferson Tenório. Each conversation was a bridge between worlds.

But perhaps the most valuable part of Flip — and of the House — lies backstage. In the breaks between talks, in the shy smile of someone gathering the courage to ask for an autograph, in the reunion of readers who once only knew each other by a profile picture in the Book Club. There is something magical about seeing the community materialize physically after so much time building itself online. It’s as if every hug confirmed: “we’re in this together.”

Flip has this rare calling: it’s not just about launching books or listening to authors — it’s about creating bonds. It’s about feeling that we are part of something bigger. And Estante Virtual, since its creation, has carried that DNA — bringing people closer through literature. This year, living it from the inside, it became even clearer to me that community is not an abstract concept. It’s tangible. It has a smell, a sound, and a human warmth.

Those who were there take home more than books in their luggage. They take stories that aren’t printed — memories, connections, and inspirations that will resonate long after the event is over.

That’s why we keep coming back, year after year. Because literature, after all, is not read only with the eyes — it is lived. And at Flip, it is lived intensely.