The Way We Were

After reading all of the reports this last weekend from Denver’s Left Coast Crime event (see here, here, and here), I was reminded of the many friendships I’ve made over the years by attending such conventions. That’s likely to continue this year, as I’m scheduled to participate in two British get-togethers (CrimeFest in Bristol and the Harrogate Crime Writing Festival), and am negotiating to attend Bouchercon 2008 in Baltimore, Maryland).

It’s been five years since I could last be present at Bouchercon, so I was delighted to discover that one of this year’s co-organizers, Ruth Jordan of Crimespree Magazine, has opened a new blog in which writers and other attendees over the years can share their memories of past events.

Already on the board with her thoughts is Cornelia Read (The Crazy School), who recounts her experiences at Bouchercon 2004 in Toronto, Ontario, Canada:

I remember being absolutely terrified, walking over to the main event that first morning. Would I know anyone? Would anyone talk to me? Would I barf in public? But the very first person I saw was Elaine Flinn, whom I’d known back in Carmel [California] when I was a kid, and she immediately took me under her wing and introduced me to all the cool smoker chicks.

Then we went inside and took that escalator down into the main hallway of the convention, and all I could see was a sea of thousands upon thousands of people--the number inflated by terror the same way the cafeteria is on your very first day of high school.

The only person I recognized in the crowd was Lee Child, whom I’d met … at the Book Passage Mystery Conference the summer before--mostly because he was the tallest person in the room.

He was surrounded by so many people, though, that by the time I was halfway down the escalator, I figured I’d wait to say hello until later in the conference. He saw me when I got to the bottom, however, and waved me over to introduce me to everyone.

After that I figured that between Lee and Elaine, even if I was struck dead by lightning indoors before I sat in on my first panel, it had been worth the trip, so I relaxed and had an amazing time for the next four days--despite the trolley-car turnaround directly below my hostel-bedroom window (thank GOD for earplugs).

There was of course the moment at which the zipper of my Salvation-Army orange leather pants imploded, halfway through the banquet, but that is no doubt a story best kept for another time.

Then we have Hard Case Crime publisher Charles Ardai’s recollections of Bouchercon 1994, which took place in Seattle:

I remember the Shamus [Awards] banquet, where I lost the award to Lawrence Block (he deserved it; and if you’ve got to lose, at least you should lose to the best). And I remember the poker game afterwards, where authors I’d read and admired since I’d been a pup--Block, [Donald E.] Westlake, [Sue] Grafton? These are three I think participated--donned green eyeshades, rolled up their sleeves, and threw down antes and pasteboards and quips with equal vigor. Did this poker game really happen? Or is my memory playing tricks on me? Could anyone really--literally--have worn a green eyeshade, like some sort of extra from The Sting? I don't know; 14 years is a long time. But I *remember* the green eyeshade[s], and I remember the poker. (I also remember being too nervous to ask for a seat at the table, not because I was afraid of the stakes or of losing, just because I was in awe of the greats of the field who were playing there.)

Harlan Coben, James Crumley, and Laura Lippman gathered together at the 2003 Bouchercon in Las Vegas, Nevada.

The first Bouchercon for Libby Fischer Hellmann (Easy Innocence, Chicago Blues) was the 1999 affair in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, which proved to her that even in a crisis, there is camaraderie. She writes:

The next day I had a turkey sandwich in the hotel. By that night I had food poisoning. I managed to eke out the night, but by noon the following day, I was scared, dehydrated, and feeling pretty shitty. My friend Mary Harris took me to the ER where they gave me an IV and told me to wait. Imagine my surprise three hours later when Jerry Healy and S.J. Rozan showed up in my cubicle, wanting to know how I was doing. I couldn’t believe it--they’d come to the hospital just for me?

For Scotsman Ian Rankin (Exit Music), his first Bouchercon was in Toronto in 1992, and he recalls there a fateful series of meetings:

Walking into the bar, a woman walked over to me. “You look lost,” she said. “Let me introduce you to a few people.” She was the kind and wonderful K.K. Beck, and the people she introduced me to included Mary Higgins Clark--not a bad start! Later on, I took [my son] Jack with me to the dealer room, and let him crawl on the floor while I made some purchases. A woman asked if she could pick him up. We got talking and her husband turned out to be Otto Penzler. She introduced me to him and we eventually did a six-book deal for U.S. rights. All in all, not a bad weekend …

The funny story from Michael Koryta (A Welcome Grave, Sorrow’s Anthem), about Bouchercon 2003 in Las Vegas, relates to the annual Bouchercon basketball game:

So I’m standing in the hotel outside of the main conference area, taking it all in, feeling big time, Michael Koryta the crime writer. The basketball game group is getting ready to depart (at this point I’d already taken a cab to a mall to buy shoes, shorts, T-shirts … we Hoosiers do not miss basketball opportunities) and it becomes clear that some kids are wanting to go along with the group. These kids are, I believe, about 12. That might be optimistic. They could have been 10. And as I’m standing there watching them, a woman turns to me, smiles, and says, “It’s nice to see so many young people at a Bouchercon.” This is my first said con, of course, but I nod enthusiastically and say that it sure is nice to see them. And then she hits me with the stiletto follow-up: “Are you here with your parents?” Ah, yes. Michael Koryta the crime writer, indeed.

And my own memories? They’re of the 2003 Bouchercon in Las Vegas. As ever, I had too many good times to list them all, but I tried:

Particular highlights--Drinking with Ken Bruen and facing the consequences, getting my copy of Jon Jordan’s Interrogations signed and hear[ing] him whisper to me about an idea that became Crimespree Magazine, meeting David Morrell and introducing him to Gayle Lynds and Lee Child and seeing ITW form the following year, meeting Max A. Collins and Robert Randisi at the Shamus Awards, pissed at The Peppermill, meeting the Deadly Pleasures gang, the January Magazine reviewers, interviewing Lee Child, seeing Ian Rankin with the Jordan gang, moderating a panel after two days of sleep deprivation, talking to James Crumley, fear at the top of the Stratosphere Tower, supporting the Orion writers at the Top if the Riv--Man! I could go on and on, as everyone was there!

To read about all of these Bouchercon recollections and many more, click here. And if you haven’t signed up to participate in the biggest party on the crime-fiction calendar, here’s your chance. I’ll see you at the bar in Baltimore.