Bouchercon 2009

by

Wilfred Bereswill

Well, another Bouchercon has come and gone.  And if you ask me it was a resounding success.  Jim Huang and all the B'con organizers did a terrific job.  The city, setting and hotels were fantastic.

I'm sure I'm not telling you anything new, but Bouchercon is not a writers conference.  You don't go as a writer to learn how to write.  It's a convention designed to bring fans and authors together.  So why the hell did I go? I don't have a new book to promote.  I wasn't on a panel.  I had to place books on consignment with Mystery Mike's bookstore to have some available just in case.

So again, why did I go?  I did consider bailing at the last minute. I mean I had to use the last day of vacation I have in my day job until next March.  My middle daughter was coming home from college to pre-celebrate her 21st birthday.  And I could come up with a dozen other reasons I shouldn't have gone.  But then I remembered how much friggin' fun I had last year.  I remembered how energized I was when I came back.  I remembered just how great the community of Mystery Writers is.

I wasn't disappointed.  I had a great time.  I'me ready to pull that Work In Progress up on my screen and finish it.  I'm ready to make it as good as I'm capable of making it.

Speaking of how giving the Mystery Community is, I was participating in the Continuous Conversation and that very subject came up.  One author (to remain nameless) said "Mystery authors are generally not assholes.  There are exceptions, but for the most part, we're pretty nice."

It didn't take long to reconnect with a number of authors that I consider friends.  And some of them hit it big this year.  For example:

Brett Battles

Julie Hyzy

Brett Battles won the Barry Award for best thriller (I think, I guess I shouldn't have had that last IPA Wheat Beer... or the first or second or...)  Julie Hyzy won an Anthony and Lori G. Armstrong who couldn't be there, won the Shamus for her book Snow Blind.

A gathering of authors (Harlan Coben, Alexandra Sokoloff, Laura Benedict, Marcus Sakey)  

Where it's at: The Bar and a great Wheat Beer.  I had several meaningful and meaningless conversations here.

My friend, John Lutz and the Edgar Allan Poe Panel with Michael Connelly, Sue Grafton,  Peter Lovesy, and Sara Paretsky

It was a Mega Panel

And of course, the lovely couple Tasha Alexander and Andrew Grant.

A Little about Tasha and Andrew.  I don't think I've met two nicer people.  They are both extremely talented and giving.  And Andrew, if you read this, I will not sell the book you signed for me on Ebay.  I'm really looking forward to reading EVEN.  And, by the way, they look fabulous together.

The signing lines.

Now about the party.  Lee Child had a fantastic party at The Slippery Noodle.  The Slippery Noodle is a Pre-Prohibition Blues Bar where Lee hosted his Jack Reacher Party.  I was invited by Andrew Grant, Lee's brother.  You can't tell so much from the pictures, but it was wildly popular.  It was a great way to end the weekend.

The Band

My beautiful wife Linda and I at the Jack Reacher Party. 

The crowd including Kelli Stanley and Alexandra Sokoloff

My wife Linda (I'm a lucky guy)

I'd be remiss if I failed to mention my friend, Austin Camacho.  A talented author in his own right, I met Austin last year at Magna Cum Murder in Muncie, Indiana.  Thanks Austin.

by Wilfred Bereswill

Well it seems like we have an open day, so I'm going to fly by the seat of my pants and see what comes of it.

Last weekend I attended the Printers Row Literary Festival in downtown Chicago. And by attending, I mean that I wasn't part of the official program, but I did have an hour slot to sign books at Big Sleep Books tent.

Friday night I packed my books, two of my daughters (the third daughter is attending a destination wedding in La Playa, Mexico) and my beautiful wife in the Family Truckster and hit the road. The drive was fairly routine and in-route I used my Blackberry to find a hotel on the outskirts of the City. Of course things were going along too smoothly and 2 1/2 miles before our exit we came to a grinding halt. Yep we could see the hotel, but we were stuck in 45 minutes of traffic for construction lane closures on the overpass of our exit.

We should have figured that was an omen.

Next morning we woke up bright and early, reloaded the Family Truckster and headed downtown. Everything seemed fairly routine, except the $30 we had to lay down for 8 hours of parking. I loaded and drug my box of 25 books (long story, but I had to supply my own books and I'll talk about that on my Monday blog) only to find out that the tent I was signing at had no room to store them. So I drag them back 6 blocks to the car and split with my family so they could go to the Shedd Aquarium. I decided to walk around to see if I could score more signing time with other booksellers. No luck of course, the schedules were set and I had my time from 5 PM to 6 PM that evening.

Through the weekend I did get to chat with a number of authors; Julie Hyzy, Barb D'Amato, Marcus Sakey, Sean Chercover, Laura Bradford, Joe Konrath, Tasha Alexander, Andrew Grant (Lee Child's brother) and a number of others who's names fail me. I always enjoy talking to other authors.

So, now the forshadowing comes into play. I decided to go have lunch with my family and listen to their adventures at the aquarium. They want to go to Navy Pier and walk along Michigan Ave and the Magnificent Mile, so we decided to go back to the car, leave our $30 pariking spot early and check into our hotel, about 1 1/2 miles away. The Residence Inn is right off the Chicago River and is a nice place. But I had to plunk down another $44 for parking (plus tip). Okay, it doesn't take a math major to calculate the $74 in parking and I'm not going to make this trip pay for itself.

The young lady behind the desk tried to convince us to pay for an upgraded room so we can stay on a "high" floor for the view. Against the kid's wishes I politley declined and we headed to our 3rd floor room. Opening the door, we were hit with an unmistakable aroma. The odor of pot, weed, or whatever it's called today. It smelled like someone had just lit up a doobie before we came in. So our next room was on the 23rd floor in the corner with an expansive view.

Remember I'm signing at 5 PM and at 3 PM the predicted cold front moves through, the temperature plummets from the 60s to the 40s and the skys open up. The cold and rain drove a lot of the crowds away while I walked the 1 1/2 miles back to the tent, dodging raindrops with my tiny travel umbrella. Being the grateful author, I dried off the table and chair, sat down with a handful of books, a stack of bookmarks, twirling my pen and watched the few people that remained.

I like watching people. I especially like watching how they react to an event. They know I'm sitting there to sell my books. The guilt kicks in and people handle it in different ways. I watch their eyes. The eyes will tell you what you need to know. Some try desparately not to make eye contact. Others want to look so badly, but they don't want to get trapped into buying a book they might not like. Others don't give a hoot and still others don't feel guilty at all and come right up to chat.

I like the last group. Honestly I know times are bad and I know my trade paperbacks are expensive. I enjoy just chatting. I did well some books and I was invited back by the bookseller to fill in a slot from 11 AM to noon on Sunday. Guess what? It rained from 9 AM until about 10:30 AM. Didn't sell a book the second go around, but that's okay. I got to people watch again and chat with some nice folks.

The ride back was uneventful On Monday I'm going to talk about life with a small publisher. See you then.

Printers Row - Chicago

by Wilfred Bereswill

Since Annette Dashofy had so much fun organizing and babysitting the PennWriters Conference, I thought I’d stick with the theme. While writers conferences are in full swing, there have been many that have been cancelled or delayed due to the economy. Last week, over at The Outfit, a blog of Chicago Writers, Barb D’Amato wrote about the seeming demise of mystery conferences in particular. So is it all about the economy, or is it something else? Is The Internet and its virtual world making it easier to stay home and get your fill of authors teaching about writing? Personally, I think it’s a little of both.

I’ve gone to a number of conferences both pre and post publication. I can tell you that since I’ve been published, conferences have become more fun and relaxed. Even with the pressure of being on panels, I’ve been much more relaxed at the last couple of conferences I’ve been to. You see, I’ve always been comfortable speaking to groups from my business life, but sitting in front of an agent or publisher is like getting called into the boss’s office and him saying, “Close the door and have a seat.” The stomach does a flip and food that you’ve just eaten seems insistent on making a return visit.

The most memorable of panels I’ve served on was at Magna Cum Murder in Muncie, IN. last year. I had the pleasure of working with the Barb Diamato and Austin Camacho. We decided on going almost completely unstructured, coaching the attendees to write a flash fiction mystery. We got off to a rousing start and, while it took a little time, the group really got into it. I think if we had another hour, we would have had an awesome story. It started with a man driving his big rig down the highway, when... SPLAT! Something falls out of the sky and hits the big truck. The plot was actually intriguing enough, I thought about pursuing it afterward.

Back to the economy. I’m really hoping the economy doesn’t affect Printers Row this coming weekend. I’m heading up to Chicago for my first literary festival where I’ll be signing at Big Sleep Books tent on Saturday afternoon and maybe again on Sunday afternoon. I’m looking forward to seeing some of the fabulous authors I’ve come to know up there and a few I’ve yet to meet: Tasha Alexander, Laura Bradford, Andrew Grant, Barb D’Amato, Libby Fischer Hellmann, Joe Konrath, Marcus Sakey, Sean Chercover, Jeffery Deaver and Sara Paretsky. I’m sure I’m missing a few, but if nothing else, I plan on having a good time and I hope if you’re in the Chicago area, you’ll come by and see me.

I'd like to thank the Academy...

by Jennie Bentley

As you’re reading this, a really big machine somewhere is spitting out pages of my first book, Fatal Fixer-Upper, scheduled for release on November 4th, 2008 (and available right now for preorder).

Yep, that’s right: we’ve gone to press. I breezed through copyedits sometime in May, doing only what was necessary to get the pages back to my editor before boarding a plane to Europe. I paid for that when the final page proofs arrived in July, and I discovered mistakes I should have caught earlier. So I had to grovel and apologize and ask if I could please change this and that, because it really wouldn’t be a good idea to print the book with mistakes in it.

Anyway, in the middle of all this, I had to write a page of acknowledgements. You know what I’m talking about: that page at the beginning or end of the book giving thanks to all the people who have helped me along the way and made me the brilliant and successful creature that I am. My parents, who gave birth to me. My first-grade teacher, who recognized my amazing talent at the tender age of seven. My husband, who puts up with my monumental ego... My agent, my editor, my family and friends, the guys at the post office, who accepted the package with my submission in it and got it delivered where it was supposed to go. Fellow writers, fellow readers, my publicists, anyone who has ever – or will ever – review the book. God. The whole damn machine that’s New York Publishing. Everyone I’ve ever met, because as surely as death and taxes, they’ve had a finger in making me who I am today.

Writing isn’t a solitary endeavor at all, contrary to popular opinion. Everyone we interact with shapes us in some way. Our values, our outlook, our thought processes (or lack thereof) are all courtesy of someone we’ve run across at some point, whether the experience was a good or a bad one. And on a purely pedestrian basis, the people we live with play a huge role in how easy or hard it is for us to plant our butts in the chair and actually write every day. I have a household full of people and pets, all of whom have needs, and I owe them humongous thanks for putting up with me and letting me do what I love, even if that means that my wonderful husband is the sole breadwinner in the family, and the boys get hot dogs and frozen chicken nuggets all too often, and have to share their bedrooms with dust bunnies the size of water buffalo.

Ultimately, though, there is only one person who gets the credit for my being the very small fry that I am today, as far as publishing goes. I’ve always been a writer, as far back as I can remember, but she helped me become a published writer, and for that, I owe her a debt of gratitude the size of Mt. Everest. When I told her I’d always wanted to write books, she said I could. She listened patiently as I talked her ear off about plot and character. She read and critiqued my manuscript. She sat down with me and made lists of agents I should query. She read and critiqued my query letter. When I got responses telling me I needed to tighten the book – i.e. cut the fat – she sat down with me again, and helped me revise. She made more lists of agents when I’d gone through the first ones. The agent who ended up wanting to represent me was someone she had met, and although I didn’t name-drop up front, I don’t doubt the mention of her name later made my agent think more highly of me. That's the kind of person she is.

I could go on, making lists of all the things Tasha Alexander has done for me, and the stellar advice she’s given and continues to give, but the bottom line is, I wouldn’t have been able to do any of it without her generosity and unselfishness. She’s been my friend and my mentor, my sounding-board and my inspiration. She’s the best role model a girl wanting to write a book could have, and when I grow up, I want to be just like her.

So what about you? Do you have someone in your life who reached out to you and made you believe you could do the impossible? Someone who walked the walk with you, to make sure you got to the finish line? Who cheered you on and convinced you to keep going when you got tired and wanted to give up? You're one of the lucky ones. Make your own acknowledgement, and tell us about them!