(Editor’s note: There
are no photographs of the dignitaries mentioned in this and subsequent Bouchercon-related
posts. Between Witness Protection and wanted posters, many of those described are
leery of any attempt to distribute their likeness.)
The Raleigh
Bouchercon is over. For me, it was the best of the half dozen I’ve attended. I
know more people now, so the ice breaking issues that made my first couple
awkward are past. I also bring The Beloved Spouse with me, and she’ll talk to
an aardvark. A lot went on those four days, and I could only be one place at a
time, so let’s get to my personal highlights.
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 8
Here’s how author
speed dating works: authors are paired up and spend six minutes at each of 15
tables over the course of an hour and a half, talking to anywhere from one to
six people at each table. (The numbers were lower than expected due to bad
weather south of Raleigh, and, just possibly, people realizing it was eight
o’clock in the goddamn morning.) Given the rate things moved, it was more like
an author drive-by. Speed dating implies two-way communication. A drive-by is
more unidirectional.
They paired me with
Ed Aymar, which was good. (For me, at least.) I know and like Ed, so I was
comfortable. He’s also drop-dead funny. He handed out goody bags to our readers
that contained sunglasses (so you can look cool while you read his book),
temporary tattoos (so you can look tough while you read his book), a mask (so
you can do some of the crimes described in his book), and a paddle ball (so you
can take a break). Also included, a pen that lit up and flashed, which he
guaranteed to produce seizures inside of 30 seconds.
Was it worth it? It
was fun, though exhausting. I did sell one book for sure because of it. On the
other hand, a woman who was in my last group asked me for directions 15 minutes
later and had no idea who I was. Probably too much drinking from the fire hose
for everyone.
11:30 True
Criminals / True Detectives
One researcher
claims women read true crime to put themselves in the victim’s place in the
hope of recognizing things to be aware of. Some apparently use things learned
there to get out of bad situations.
Carla Norton gives
rides to hitchhikers, along with copies of her book The Perfect Victim as a
caution.
If a person
“confesses” to a clergyman in a non-confessional setting—say a place where they
could be overheard—that if not a privileged conversation.
1:00 Just the
Facts: The Police Procedural
My favorite panel
of the weekend, though my impartiality is questionable because I was on it. Jim
Born did a great job of keeping things entertaining and moving, while panelists
Colin Campbell, Stephanie Gayle, and Larry Kelter did yeomen’s work in carrying
me. I’d learned to seek out Colin’s panels because he’s always fun, so it was a
treat to get to sit next to him. Jim Born was a revelation. Funny, and someone
it’s about impossible to feel uneasy around. (Unless maybe you’re a crook.)
That’s not to take anything away from Stephanie and Larry, who were more than
up to the challenge.
I was brought back
to earth in the signing room, where alphabetical order put me next to Michael
Koryta. I signed one book while he signed at least 50. The Beloved Spouse worked
hard to photograph me from the opposite side of Michael’s line, so it looks
like those people were there to see me. The she crossed over when things calmed
down and took a few shots to make it appear I’m sitting there chatting with my
close personal friend Michael Koryta. The good news from that arrangement was
getting to talk with him a bit, and finding out he’s writing PI stories again.
2:30 Beyond
Hammett, Chandler, Macdonald, and Spillane
This was a Peter
Rozovsky panel. He’s the best moderator there is, so the organizers gave him a
sow’s ear of a panel from which to make a silk purse: Jordan Foster, Laura
Lippmann, Kevin Burton Smith, and Sarah Weinman. (Imagine what he could do with
a worthy panel.) Each discussed a favorite author the general public may not be
aware of.
Laura Lippmann’s
description of Dare Me may have
summed up why I am the only person who read the book and didn’t like it: these
are things girls do that boys have no concept of. She also described Chandler
as a “mean boy,” for how he talked behind people’s backs, and was overly
critical of his closest competitors. (Much as I love Chandler’s writing, the
more I learn about him as a person, the more I agree with her evaluation.)
Sarah Weinman
explained how often writers fall off the radar because the heirs either can’t
be found, or they can’t agree among themselves about how to handle the rights.
Neither The Beloved
Spouse nor I had eaten all day, so we wandered off early and found Clyde
Cooper’s on Wilmington Street, not three blocks from the hotel. Best fired
chicken I can remember eating, and without question the best hush puppies. Well
worth a trip if you’re in Raleigh and hungry.
After that it was
off to Common 414 for Noir at the Bar. Eryk Pruitt put this one together, and
he did himself proud. The venue was perfect, the crowd was as raucous as was
necessary and no more, and the readings were dead on. The only people who
didn’t have a good time were those who weren’t there. I hate to single anyone
out—everyone was worthy—but, looking back several days, Eric Beetner, Jedidiah
Ayres, and Johnny Shaw stood out among even this cast of luminaries.
After that it was
off to the Marriott bar. Recollections are hazy, though one sticks out. Heartfelt
thanks to the den mother of crime writers, Michelle Turlock Isler, for introducing
me to Eric Campbell. I asked her if that was him, she said why, I said I’m
supposed to find him and now I know what he looks like, and she grabbed my arm
and drug me over to meet him right now.
(Come back Monday
for more.)
Many thanks. Mt Thursday panel was a fucking platinum-thread purse.
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