Crime Krewe

 

Swag.  I paid for one of these books.

When Donald E. Westlake accepted the MWA Grand Master Award at an Edgars ceremony he said "You're my tribe!" That's how I felt at Bouchercon last month, but since it was in New Orleans let's call it my krewe.  Some random highlights.

Sociological  Observation.  We attended the World Science Fiction Conference last month and my wife, the SF fan, noted that the mystery crowd is friendlier.  She was right.  For example, standing in line you were much more likely to get into conversation with the strangers around you at Bcon than at Worldcon.

My Busy Weekend. I was only scheduled to be on one panel (on short stories. Surprise!) but I said I would be happy to take on more so, sure enough, I was asked to moderate another panel (on short stories, who would have guessed?), and then invited to be on a third panel, this one on turning ideas into stories.  Happy to do so.  I feel like one reason I was in demand was that so many people seemed to be dropping out at the last minute.  I personally know five people who cancelled due to health or other reasons.

My Librarian Hat.  But I had another job to do.  There was a big event in support of libraries and against book-banning and the like.  I was one of three librarians invited to speak.  The whole shebang deserves its own report so you can read about it here if you wish, including (lucky you) my speech. 

I Love a Parade. The opening ceremonies were held at the World War II Museum.  To get there something like a thousand conference-goers proceeded in a second line, marching behind a brass band, with the guests of honor in pedi-cabs.  It was great fun but the drivers on the side streets must have hated us.  Bonus: I walked much of the distance with Linda Landrigan, editor of Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine.

Photo by Tracee L. Evans

Most Surreal Moment.  At the opening ceremonies I had the honor of handing out the Derringer Awards.  I was on the stage looking down at the front row where the guests of honor were seated and I spotted Craig Johnson, author of the Longmire novels.  Then I saw, sitting next to him, A. Martinez, a fine actor I recognized from L.A. Law and Longmire.  I was looking at him and he was looking at me.  I don't think I lost my place.

Sign In, Please. The first time I had a story in a Bouchercon anthology, back in Raleigh, there was a book signing event with all the authors neatly arranged by the order their stories appeared in the book so purchasers could just move down the row to have their volumes signed.  The same thing was supposed to happen here except anarchy prevailed.  Purchasers noticed authors down the line with no books to sign yet and jumped in.  Some started at the end of the book, so to speak, and others started in the middle.  I'm sure some of them wound up missing authors but I just scribbled on whatever was put in front of me. (Oh. see the photo of me signing. Can you guess the title of my story?)

photo by Diana Catt

Disappointment. I attended the Anthony Awards, ready to speak on behalf of editors Michael Bracken and Barb Goffman if Murder Neat: A SleuthSayers Anthology took home the prize but, alas, it was not to be. Had a good time though.

Second Sociological Observation. It must relate to some mathematical law.  There were several writer friends -- Josh Pachter, Alan Orloff, Stacy Woodson, Bonnar Spring, Andrew Welsh-Huggins, to name a few -- who I was happy to run into again and again during the weekend.  On the other hand when I got home and checked Facebook I saw reports from other friends who I had never spotted even once.  Random results...

Ah well.  Next year in Calgary.  Does that make the krewe a posse?