Bouchercon was a gas, even the parts of it that were very much just another convention. I loved all the panels I saw and I loved talking to the readers. There was some of the expected horseshit, where writers griped about their panels and whined about their sales, but whatever, somebody’s gotta do it. Talking business bores me fucking senseless, but then, that might be just me.
If I had gripes, the first would be that I don’t understand some of the animosity aimed at literary writers. It came up over and over again, how crime writers never get taken seriously as literature, and how literature is bullshit anyway, because it isn’t written for the reader. No matter what the tag, I assume we’re all doing the best we can to write the best book we can when we’re writing it. I got real tired of hearing about how all the literary writers get all the credit. I know a bunch of wonderful literary writers who don’t nearly get the credit the deserve, just like I know a bunch of literary writers who don’t make any sense to me at all. But if you’re doing the best work you can — if you are, to paraphrase James Lee Burke, leaving hair on the walls — then I don’t understand what the hell the complaint is.
The second gripe would be hearing the constant admonition that you’ve gotta make sure your stuff’s commercial above all else — that one should never question the editor/publisher/publicist, that your only obligation is to the market. If there was one thing that made me furious, it was hearing folks get bashed, and I mean absolutely eviscerated, from the podiums for daring to think that they should follow their own vision when writing a book.
If all you do is write fantasies for some reader dreamed up in somebody else’s mind, then God bless you. I don’t see a thing in the world wrong with that. But for those of us trying to do something different, back off. My only criteria is that I’m writing the best book I can when I’m writing it, and that it’s got something to say about the things I’m thinking. That doesn’t mean I don’t take feedback, but it’s my name going on the book, and if I’m not proud of it as the best book I possibly write at the time, then what the fuck is the point? (And if there was ever a need for a musical interlude, it’s now.)
That said, I had a ball. You couldn’t imagine a more inclusive and helpful crowd. I didn’t meet a single person face to face who wasn’t gracious and wonderful. As a first time novelist, it was pretty daunting to be kicking around a convention with a bunch of, y’know, real writers. But not only did nobody call me out as a fraud and beat me with anything, everybody was incredibly nice.
A real high point for me was getting to meet a gang of crime writers and readers I’ve just been discovering on the internet. Hopefully Greg Bardsley doesn’t mind, but I stole this picture from him.
On the left is Cameron Ashley, the mastermind of Crimefactory, who flew in from Melbourne, Australia. To the right of him is the mighty Jimmy Callaway, known as “Jimmy the Worm,” who had the distinction of putting Lee Child in a headlock at some point during Child’s annual Reacher Creature cocktail party. (I didn’t see it, but I had the honor of drinking with the gentleman afterwards.) Then, the guy with the goofy grin and the deer in headlights look, that’s me. But after that is Jason Duke, known to his friends as “Sarge,” and worthy of the title. And last, but certainly not least, was Greg Bardsley, who I would trust to lead me pretty much anywhere in San Francisco.
There are also a couple of people who weren’t in the picture that I wish were: Matt Funk, who’s writing the kind of stuff that I have the feeling is gonna be everywhere in a couple of years; and Kieran Shea, the patron saint of Bouchercon cut-ups.
I’ll have more about the brilliant series of readings set up by PM Press and all the incredible people I got to meet on those soon. When they end, that is. I’m on the Ramsey Kanaan road show, so I’ve still got two nights left. (Not that that’s a complaint. It’s a hell of a road show, and if there’s anybody in the publishing world working harder than Ramsey I don’t know who the fuck it is.)
