(What follows is a lightly edited post from March of 2017
when the Anthony Award nominations went out and I got to thinking about
Bouchercon. With this year’s conference on the rapidly approaching horizon I
realized I don’t have anything more profound to say about the conference this
year, but not everyone has read this, so here you go.)
Readers are, by and large, introverts. By definition,
introverts expend energy around other people and recharge when alone. That
doesn’t mean introverts don’t like other people, though we may be somewhat more
discerning than extroverts when it comes to who we choose to be around. It’s
not that we don’t like spending time around people who share an interest, but we’d
have to leave the house to meet them and that cuts into our reading time.*
Bouchercon is the perfect place for such a person. True,
it’s close to two thousand people in relatively confined quarters, but it’s not
just that. It’s hundreds of people who are geeked up about the same thing you
are, and are often hungry for others to talk to about it. Even better, it’s not
just the thousand-plus like-minded readers you’ll see: you’ll also be tripping
over the people who write the books you’re so revved up about. What could be
better?
They’re glad to see you, too. I’ve been to eight Bouchercons
in the ten years since I discovered them. I’ve made friends there, cemented
acquaintances with people I came to know online, and have created enough of a
footprint myself that some people actually recognize me. I have never once been
treated other than civilly, and far more often than not people have gone out of
their way to be friendly.**
It can be an expense, but it’s a bargain compared to many
other conferences. The conference fee itself is always reasonable and I’m
constantly surprised when I see the room rate the committee gets at the host
hotel. The only complaint I’ve had is the hotels rarely appreciate how much
readers and writers drink and fail to put enough additional staff on the bar.
Doesn’t mean I don’t socialize; I just don’t drink as much. The hotel’s loss is
my liver’s gain.
So, dear readers, if you’re curious to see what over a
thousand readers and several hundred crime fiction writers look like in the
wild, there’s no better place to find out than Bouchercon.
* -- The Sole Heir™ was pre-teen when my tenure at Castle
Voldemort ended and I was the classic single divorced father again. We used to
have this conversation fairly often:
TSH: Do you ever go out?
Me: Not much.
TSH: Why not?
Me: If I go out I’m going to see a lot of people I don’t
know.
TSH: What’s wrong with that?
Me: I hate people I don’t know.
After a year or so she came up with the next logical
question.
TSH: Why do you hate people you don’t know?
Me: It saves time.
** -- My favorite Bouchercon story. Baltimore, 2008. My
virgin appearance. Standing on the walkway between hotels with Peter Rozovsky,
one of about three people I actually knew then. He asked was I having a good
time.
Me: Sort of.
PR: What’s wrong?
Me: I don’t really know anyone here. (See above statement
about people I don’t know.)
PR: (Looks around) Do you know Scott Phillips?
Me: I know who he is….
PR: (Waving) Scott! Come here a second! (Scott Phillips
comes over.) Scott, this is Dana King. Dana, this is Scott Phillips. He wrote
The Ice Harvest. (Peter does not know I am head over heels for The Ice
Harvest.)
SP: (Extends hand) Hi, Dana.
(We chat for five minutes and Scott has to go to a panel.)
PR: See? Now you know Scott Phillips.
One year later. Indianapolis. I’m on the periphery of the
crowd at the bar looking for anyone I know. I see Scott with a group of people,
but he’s someone I’ve met for five minutes a year ago, not someone I know. Scott
notices me and waves me over.
SP: Dana, we’re going to get something to eat. You want to
come?
That’s what Bouchercon is like. If in doubt, go. Look me up.
Mention this post and your drink is on me. I’m not paying for it. I’m just
clumsy when I get excited.
I’m not paying for it. I’m just clumsy when I get excited.
(Epilog: I reposted this a couple of weeks before last
year’s conference in St. Petersburg. First day in St. Pete I spy my good friend
and general purpose mensch Terrence
McCauley talking to someone whose back is to me and I don’t recognize. I walk
up, say hello to T-Mac, who then introduces me to Frank Zafiro. What makes this
story memorable is not just that Frank is a great guy and we became instant
friends, but that he had read this blog post before flying to St. Pete and had
me on his list of people to keep an eye out for. It was my pleasure to do what
I could to make Frank feel welcome at his first Bouchercon as a way to pay it
forward for the kindness Scott Phillips showed me in Indianapolis. Look me up
if you see this and are in Dallas next week. I’ll do what I can to introduce
you around. I’m still clumsy with drinks.