Saturday, May 20,
qualified as a good day even by my dickish standards.
I’d never been to
the Gaithersburg Book Festival before, mainly because it’s always on a Saturday
and I’d have to leave the house. Ed Aymar (more on him later) suggested me as a
moderator for a panel, the folks at GBF took him up on it, and I had no
graceful excuse not to go.
Everyone associated
could not have been nicer, and the preparations were clearly first rate. I’ve
never been treated nicer at an event, not even when I was the main attraction.
(VIP parking.) The Beloved Spouse and I got there early to drop off books and
to catch Austin Camacho’s thought-provoking talk on black private eyes, or,
more accurately, the dearth thereof. (There will be more on this topic in the
weeks to come.)
Austin’s gig led
into the aforementioned Ed Aymar (who gets around more than a herpes virus)
interviewing Jen Conley about her short story collection, Cannibals:
Stories from the Edge of the Pine Barrens, which is nominated for an Anthony. Ed broke the ice with doughnuts,
then Jen carried him for 45 minutes.
At 12:15 I had the
privilege of moderating a discussion with Matthew Betley and Rick Campbell.
Both write military thrillers, which is a little outside my normal wheelhouse,
but the stretch was invigorating. Both were excellent panelists with plenty to
say and engaging manners. I’d love to meet them both again for a less formal
conversation, especially after Matt wins a Barry for his novel, Overwatch.
Next up was Neely
Tucker interviewing Christina Kovac and Adam Brookes about how their
journalistic backgrounds affect and inform their fiction. Another interesting
set that could have lasted longer.
There was more to
come, and we unfortunately had to bail before Nik Korpon spoke with David
Swinson and Mark Hannan. We had things to take care of before the evening
festivities, for which we needed to be in fine fettle.
Noir at the Bar has
become an international institution. (Fuck Peter Rozovsky.) Ed Aymar has pretty
much made the DC events his own and no one is complaining. Last year he
encouraged audience participation by allowing the listeners to choose a winner,
who received an engraved dagger. This year’s prize: an engraved machete. Ed
don’t play.
Neither did the
readers. The upstairs area at the Wonderland Ballroom was filled for the middle
event in what was billed as a “Noir at the Bar Crawl,” which opened Friday
night in Richmond and would conclude on Sunday in Baltimore. Ed assembled a
first-rate line up: himself, Kim Alexander, Jen Conley (also doubling up),
yours truly (who rarely falls so early in any alphabetical list), Nik Korpon,
Adam Meyer, defending champion Eryk Pruitt, J.D. Smith, David Swinson, Neely
Tucker, and the man who knows more euphemisms for female genitalia than any
three cunts I know, Steve Weddle.
I’ve been to
several Noirs at Bars; none matched this. Not a weak story in the bunch, but a
few stood out, notably Weddle’s Scott Phillips-esque examination of TV’s The Love Boat, Ed Aymar’s whorehouse robbery,
Neely Tucker’s delicious dialog, Jen Conley’s true confessions, and Nik Korpon
branching out into performance art that included audience participation. None
were sufficient to prevent Eryk Pruitt from defending his crown, as he walked
away with cutlery for the second year in a row.
I’ve had better
days, but none as a writer. Many and sincere thanks to everyone connected with
the Gaithersburg Book Festival. May 19, 2018 is already reserved on my
calendar. As for Noir at the Bar, that’s a special group of reprobates. I’ve
been to several, and no one puts on a show like Ed Aymar. If you’re in the area
for the next one and not easily offended, there’s no way to have more fun.
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