Bouchercon 2017: Saturday / Sunday

The Beloved Spouse™ has commented more than once over the years about how little I drink, so it seemed only right when I got back to the room a little after 1:30 Saturday morning to shake her awake and say, “You’re always saying you’ve never seen me drunk. Here’s your chance.” As might be expected, Friday’s night at the bar placed the 8:30 Saturday panels in irretrievable jeopardy.

Saturday October 14

10:00 Anthony Best Novel Nominees

Given this year’s nominees, a good time was guaranteed, especially with Hank Phillippi Ryan as moderator. No one disappointed. The highlights:

Reed Farrel Coleman plays the movie of his book in his head then describes enough for the reader to create his own.

Louise Penny didn’t think her first book would be published, so all her decisions were made to please herself. (Maybe this is why I don’t care for most best sellers: The decisions are too obviously made to please the greatest number of people, of which I am not one.)

Laura Lippman understands she’s not going to write anything “new,” but sees her job as engaging the reader who’s “read it all.” Plot is not enough. She’s always a little embarrassed when people flatter her, doesn’t feel she’s deserving. She’s always struck by the fact they gave her their time to read the book.

Laura Lippman: She can’t write a better Mystic River than Mystic River, but there are other things she can do very well.

When Hank asked all the panelists what they’re working on now, Louise Penny noted she’s busy promoting next year’s Anthony Award winner, which came out last month. (Actually I said that, not Louise. I do have to wonder if it’s time to rename the best novel award in Louise’s honor and retire her from the pool. Give someone else a chance.)

12:40 20 on the 20s: Joe Clifford (That’s right. A panel at 10 and the next at 12:40. So I ate lunch and did a little shopping. Sue me.)

There are few more fascinating people than Joe Clifford. Promoting his newest Jay Porter novel, he also let slip plans for a book of the things his seven-year-old son Holden says. Having followed Holden on Facebook since he was born (all right, technically I’m friends with Joe, but Holden’s way more fun), this book promises to be far more entertaining than Shit my Dad Says.

In discussing Jay and the inspiration for the novels, Joe uttered what might have been the best bon mot of the conference: Teen angst is what happens when you realize the things your parents taught you when they were your only source of information are untrue.

1:00 Confined Crimes: Small town settings – the advantages and limitations of using a smaller stage for crimes.

With my Penns River series set in a small town, this is always a destination panel for me. (Also a soft spot in my heart, as a small town discussion in Cleveland broke my Bouchercon panel cherry.) Lynn Cahoon made sure I wasn’t disappointed, leading a sterling cast through a wide-ranging discussion.

Small town settings appeal to Lori Roy because you can’t escape your past in a small town.

Eryk Pruitt: You’ll never get better samples of small town dialog than at the local BBQ shop.

Lori Roy: Outsiders’ eyes can change everything. Bringing an outsider as the editor of the Boston Globe was what made the Spotlight story possible.

(Note to future panelists: when you say something like, “I write character-driven fiction,” it can’t help but sound like you’re saying your peers on the panel are hacks who write cartoon characters.)

Eryk Pruitt talked about the feeling of isolation in small towns. Spoke of taking a break from work and seeing the grain elevator and water tower are the town’s perpetual skyline, and how the banal and gossipy conversations never change, except for the names. While everyone in town is close, they can feel isolated from the rest of the world and end up thinking, “Is this all there is for me?”

Karin Salvalaggio learned while researching a book that residents of Bozeman MT often left their doors unlocked. This sometimes became an issue when college students, walking home drunk, got tired and let themselves in to crash on strangers’ couches. (She’d done so well on the liars’ panel the other day I had to ask her if this story was bullshit.)

4:00 The Blue Detectives: Police procedurals

Another typical destination panel for me. The Penns River books are primarily procedurals, and I scored a procedural panel in Raleigh. Caro Ramsey kept things moving and fun with great rapport with her panel, especially Jeffrey Siger. Caro’s smart and funny, but with her Scots accent she almost needs subtitles at times.

Andrew Case: “A falling knife has no handle. Never try to catch it.” Used in real estate and stocks when people try to time the bottom of a market.

Caro Ramsey: Scottish police are unarmed except for batons and sarcasm. They’re taught to engage in a non-threatening manner. She admits it works because they’re pretty sure they’re dealing with a suspect who does not himself have a gun.

Jeffrey Siger’s pet peeve with police stories is some writers’ need to wrap up every little detail.

Andrew Case’s is when a non-cop breaks a bunch of rules to solve a case and never faces any consequences because he was successful.

Jeffrey Siger: You act differently when you carry a gun. (Not said as a good or bad thing or as a political statement. Just an explanation why he doesn’t wear one even though he’s qualified and has a permit.)

5:30 Noir is the Beat-Up Black: You are compelled like a victim to a dark alley to attend this panel, even knowing it can only end…

Noir has achieved the status of pornography in the writing world: No one can define it, but everyone knows what it is when they see it. (I’ll have more to say on that in a few weeks.) Rob Brunet’s panel did yeoman’s work describing their own definitions, begun by Rob quoting Gary Phillips: Noir is a doomed character on a doomed path.

Christopher Brookmyer: The level of violence that must appear onscreen should be tied to what you need to show about the character.

Christopher Brookmyer: Film can show what violence looks like but only books can describe what it feels like.

Saturday evening was spent on a fun dinner and drink (just one, thank you very much) with John McFetridge and his lovely wife Laurie Reid; Seana Graham, Peter Rozovsky, Dave McKee, and a gentleman whose name I apologize for not remembering. (John, if you have it, please comment.) An early panel I wanted to see the next day would be followed by lots of driving, so one drink was it for me.

Sunday, October 15

8:30 The Bodies Politic: Political mysteries and how politics can lead to murder

Political thrillers aren’t usually my cup of tea, but moderator Robin Spano and panelist Nik Korpon are friends and I hate to blow off a day of any conference (I paid for the whole thing, damn it), so I went. Good move. Robin nailed her first panel as moderator and Nik was as good as expected. Other highlights:

Tom Rosenstiel: It’s acceptable in Washington to lie to a microphone but not face-to-face to a colleague.

Tom Rosenstiel: Definition of an English spy thriller: Suddenly, nothing happened.

Tom Rosenstiel: The political center in Washington meets privately and informally because to appear publicly as anything other than pure invites a primary challenge.

Mark Greaney: Reading David McCullouch’s book on John Adams shows what we’re going through now is nothing new.

Cheryl L. Reed: Other countries—such as Ukraine—have already dealt with their fake news crises. We just have to figure ours out.

And so we were done. Next time I’ll talk a little about the peripheral entertainment that made the week such a rousing success, followed by a comparison of border agents of various countries, namely Canada and the United States.

Misogynistic, or Picky?

Egomaniac that I am, I publish an annual list of what I thought were the best books I read each year, as if anyone else gives a shit. In 2012 the list contained no female authors. This was a genuine surprise to me when pointed out—I honest to God hadn’t noticed—but it got me to thinking. Since then I have made a conscious effort to read more female writers, and to add female characters to my writing.

My 2013 list contained only two females, both in the Honorable Mention list. (Laura Lippman and Zoe Sharp.) None made the Top Ten.

This prompted some examination. Why don’t I read more female authors, and why don’t I enjoy them more when I do? As the father of a daughter, I felt a need to see if there was something more afoot. I doubt my conclusions will satisfy many, but what good is a writer without an occasional well-intentioned controversy?

I looked for a common denominator in the writing that might put me off. This is dangerous business, as that implies all women write more or less the same way, which is no truer that saying all men do. I needed to organize my thoughts around writing, not gender, to see if there were common elements in the books I either didn’t like as much as I’d hoped, regardless of the author’s plumbing. I found three things:

1. So long as the story is plausible and doesn’t require me to rupture myself suspending disbelief, I’m interested more in the manner of the telling than I am in what’s told. In short, I read for style. Most of the female authors to whom I’ve been exposed are storytellers more than stylists, with a couple of notable exceptions. (Megan Abbott, Christa Faust.)

2. Women tend to be more descriptive than men. Lots more adjectives. I don’t care that it was a pale blue house with a white door and cedar shake shingles unless it’s important for some reason. I don’t care that a person set down his Louis Vuitton garment bag, shrugged up the sleeve of his Caraceni suit, and looked at his Piaget watch unless it tells me something about him, and it’s something worth remembering, which means I don’t have to hear about it every time. That reason doesn’t have to be readily evident, but there needs to be one. That’s a matter of personal taste. It doesn’t make me right, but it does affect my reading enjoyment.

3. Forgive me for saying this, but a lot of female authors drop in too many scenes that seem to have been written for Lifetime TV movies. I don’t watch TV movies. As above, that doesn’t make me right, but it does affect my choices.

Who do I read and enjoy? Megan Abbott. (Though I’ll admit Dare Me put me off. Maybe because I used to be a public school teacher or because my daughter is not that far removed from high school, but every character I remember was detestable, and I just stopped caring about them. In fairness, Bury Me Deep is as good as it gets.) Christa Faust. Laura Lippman’s standalones (Tess Monahan I can live without). Sandra Parshall. S.J. Rozan. Zoe Sharp.

Help me out. With the above caveats in mind, who am I missing?

December’s Best Reads

In the order in which I read them:

Crooked Numbers, Tim O’Mara. The second book of what is shaping up to be an excellent series. He has a franchise brewing here. Don’t be surprised to see Raymond Donne on television someday. You heard it here first. (Unless you already heard it elsewhere. This is the first I’ve heard of it.)

Saturday’s Child, Ray Banks. All the Cal Innes stories were offered on sale for Kindle a few months ago; I’m working my way through them. I’m a big Banks fan, and this early work was no disappointment.

Devil in a Blue Dress, Walter Mosley. I tried reading Mosley about ten years ago, couldn’t get into it. Either I’ve grown, or he’s gotten better. Considering this was written before I first read him, my money is on Option A. Easy and Mouse are now in the rotation.

I’d Know You Anywhere, Laura Lippman. Not sure what to say here. A psychological thriller on multiple levels, wonderfully written and crafted (as usual) by Lippman. Still, I feel I like this book better now than when I was reading it. Some of the characters’ motivations are suspect, though things work out in the end. I almost put it down a couple of times, but I had to see what happened next, which is a pretty good enforcement of any book, when you think about it.

On Monday I’ll list my best reads of 2013. I know everyone else has done this already, but I’m not into this whole instant gratification thing.

Recommended Reads

I had been posting recommendations of good reads once a month until I got sick over the holidays and let it lapse. I let it alone because no discussions had been generated, and I didn’t see much point to adding to the multitude of unsolicited reading lists. A discussion in Crimespace a few weeks ago led me to reconsider.

Is it ever a bad idea to promote a book you enjoy? The publishers do damn little for most authors in that regard. Traditional media review outlets trim the space allotted almost daily. Word of mouth recommendations become more important to writers every day; it’s on the recipient to decide if that mouth has a word worth listening to.

Catching up, here are the books I’ve read since the first of the year that I recommend in good conscience.

A Darker Domain, by Val McDermid – My first McDermid. Made me wonder what the hell I’d been waiting for.

The Given Day, by Dennis Lehane – This is the book Lehane was born to write. He covers the ground from Babe Ruth to labor relations to anarchists with empathy, humor, and wonderful writing that never takes you out of the story. Brilliant.

The Ice Harvest, by Scott Phillips – I saw the movie and liked it. As expected, the book is better. Phillips has a deadpan style that carries a story of betrayal and violence lightly, and is laugh out loud funny in places, never inappropriately.

Hardcore Hardboiled, edited by Todd Robinson – Solid collection marking the best of Thuglit for 2007. A wide range of stories told in a wide range of styles, all of which include people you’d rather not meet alone in a dark alley.

The Big Sleep, by Raymond Chandler – Yes, it’s about the eighth time I’ve read it, and yes, everyone knows all about it, but how can anyone read it and not recommend it? Still pretty much the gold standard for PI fiction.

What the Dead Know, by Laura Lippman – Everything a mystery should be.

Fifty Grand, by Adrian McKinty – The first book of McKinty’s post-Forsythe saga is an outstanding thriller. The rare book where the style is as good as the story, and enhances it.

Priest, by Ken Bruen – I read The Guards Christmas week, and it didn’t excite me. Of course, I was sick and kept dozing off, so that’s not a true test. Bruen’s style may be an acquired taste. If so, then I’m acquiring it.

Laura Lippman and Tess Monaghan

I finished reading Laura Lippman’s What the Dead Know last night. It deserved all the awards it won last year. Tightly written, well paced, with exceptional character development and a nice twist at the end.

Last fall I read Hardly Knew Her, a collection of Lippman’s short stories. It, too, was excellent, though, as with all anthologies, some stories were better than others. The stories showed great flair and style, and were a lot of fun to read, a chance to watch a master (mistress?) at work.

Fortunately, I was asked to review Hardly Knew Her, or I would likely not have read it. Why not? Because my previous exposure to Lippman’s work was through one of her Tess Monaghan books, which, quite frankly, I could have lived without. The story was fine, but to me the characters and voice were nothing special. Mainstream boilerplate, safely written.

I have a Tess tome on my bookshelf, so I’ll give her another try, but even her stories in the anthology seemed bland compared to their peers. Laura Lippman is a big deal, and deservedly so. She made her name with the Tess Monaghan series. Am I the only person who feels these stories aren’t her strongest work?

Don’t worry about offending me with your responses. I’m twice divorced.