(Above) Shots and Rap Sheet contributor Ali Karim prepares to be interviewed onstage by editor George Easter (right) during Bouchercon in New Orleans. (Photo by Mike Stotter.)
By Ali Karim
After returning from Bouchercon 2025—hosted for the second time in a decade by the city of New Orleans, Louisiana—I found myself pondering my mortality, but also recalling how incredibly life-affirming those days away were, spent in the company of cherished confidantes and colleagues who share my love of crime and mystery fiction, as well as my appreciation for the profuse absurdities of life.
I owe a special thanks to George Easter, the editor and publisher of Deadly Pleasures Mystery Magazine. It was an e-mail note he sent last January that convinced me to undertake that long journey back to the United States. At the time, my health was not good, and I was overcoming difficulties in my professional life. I was also uneasy about the growing influence of right-wing ideology on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean, and how that might affect my ability (as a person of color) to travel internationally. However, the problems with my heart, which had sent me to hospital in 2023, were of the most pressing concern. Going to Bouchercon in early September would require that I purchase robust medical insurance, and I wasn’t certain how easily that could be done. Despite Bouchercon co-chairs Heather Graham and Connie Perry having elected me as this convention’s Fan Guest of Honor, I was wary of the overseas flight and my fitness.
But as anyone who knows me in the slightest can attest, I have a tendency to digress. So, um, where was I?
Oh yes, that message George sent me in January. A line in it haunted me as I dithered: “You know, Ali, it’s been nearly a decade since we last
saw you in America … none of us are getting any younger.”Indeed, I missed my American friends dearly. Before this year, I had made the body-taxing crossing to the States nine times to attend Bouchercon, “the World Mystery Convention,” in various locales. The first such occasion took me out to Las Vegas, Nevada, in 2003. The last two visits brought me over to serve as co-chair of Bouchercon 2015 in Raleigh, North Carolina, and then to take part in the 2016 New Orleans event. In each case, I’d expanded my circle of crime-fiction-loving comrades further, and this annual U.S. conference had become a highlight of my life’s experience—one that, as I said of my repeated appearances at CrimeFest in Britain, aided in “measuring the passage of time and [left] behind fond memories to balance out against any less pleasurable ones.”
I appear to have digressed once more …
The bottom line is, I wasn’t at all sure I was up for another U.S. excursion, despite my guest of honor appointment. But then in July I received an e-mail request from Kerry Hammond, the guest of honor manager for Bouchercon 2025, that I record a short video for promotional use by Connie Perry on Bouchercon’s Instagram page. I am never a quitter, so I responded with a clip that I hoped would do the job, even though it showed me fragile and quite breathless. I even got the year wrong (“2015”—what was I thinking?). When that went up online, I felt myself committed, despite my health anxieties.
Fortunately, three weeks before I was to depart England—and after undergoing blood tests—my cardiologist proclaimed me sufficiently fit to go. She wrote a note to U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) explaining the plethora of medications I would be packing along, and confirmed for my insurers that I’d be able to endure a transatlantic flight. She also discovered that I had a serious iron deficiency (a side effect of my heart medication), and put me on a ferrous fumarate supplement that made me feel so much better! It alleviated my breathlessness, gave me most of my strength back, and restored my ability to engage in verbose conversations.
Ali with Mike Stotter (right)—ready and waiting at Heathrow.
So the day finally came for me to head out: Saturday, August 30. Accompanying me was my long-suffering traveling companion and dear friend, Shots editor and Renaissance man Mike “Six-Gun” Stotter, who’d agreed (much to my family’s relief) to watch out for my health during our trip. He was well-versed in the under-the-tongue application of my nitroglycerin vasodilator (glyceryl trinitrate [GTN]) spray, should I require it. I drew the line, though, at mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, submitting a do-not-resuscitate order to alleviate its necessity.
What we hadn’t planned for was our Saturday afternoon British Airways flight from London’s Heathrow Airport going severely awry. The Boeing 737 meant to carry us to the States had a never-explained issue with its brakes; and after sitting on the tarmac for six hours while technicians tried repairs, we deplaned and stayed that night at a nearby hotel. Not until the following morning, Sunday the 31st, did we lift off the ground. We arrived in the Crescent City that night and were collected by Larry Gandle, associate editor of Deadly Pleasures (and a radiation oncologist on the side), who ferried us to the Hotel Monteleone in the French Quarter—historic lodgings recommended by Martina Cole, the Queen of British gangland thrillers.
Peter Rozovsky and Mike Stotter outside our favorite New Orleans breakfast place, the Ruby Slipper, tucked into a corner of the Pelham Hotel on Magazine Street. (Photo by Ali Karim.)
Day One (Monday, September 1)
Our visit to the legendary “Big Easy” began officially with breakfast at the Ruby Slipper on Magazine Street, just blocks away from the Monteleone and even closer to the Marriott Hotel on Canal Street—this year’s convention venue. We discovered the Ruby Slipper nine years ago, when Bouchercon was first held here, and its hearty Southern dishes (various spins on Eggs Benedict, shrimp and grits, omelettes and biscuits, etc.) have drawn us back ever since. Joining us for that initial morning meal was photographer and newspaper copy editor Peter Rozovsky, looking bleary-eyed and bewildered as he’d been correcting the restaurant menu while he awaited our arrival.
Mike Stotter and I spent much of Monday roving about the tourist-friendly, Spanish-influenced French Quarter, and then that evening we took a Mississippi River jazz cruise aboard the steamboat City of New Orleans, accompanied by Peter and Larry Gandle. The music wasn’t altogether to my taste, but it was lucky that we had Larry along, since he lives part-time in New Orleans (and the rest of each year in Florida) and could relate the architectural significance of structures
we passed along the banks of the world’s fourth-longest river. I knew Larry had gone to medical school in New Orleans, and during our cruise I asked him why. “The opening of Live and Let Die,” he replied, which made me smile, because I too was affected strongly by the surreal pre-credits sequence from that 1973 James Bond film.(Left) The City of New Orleans.
Day Two (Tuesday, September 2)
For this morning’s Ruby Slipper repast, we added to our mix British thriller writer Alex Shaw (Kill Code), who had recently arrived—after an arduous, sleep-depriving journey—from the Middle East, where he resides. It’s rumored in some quarters that he is the great-grandnephew of film mogul Sir Run Run Shaw, a character most famous for two things: co-producing the 1982 film Blade Runner; and failing to sign martial artist/actor Bruce Lee, who was instead lured to work for Raymond Chow, of Hong Kong’s Golden Harvest films. Also finding a seat at our table was the delightful Timea “Timi” Cassera, an enthusiastic crime and mystery reader from Iowa, who has in the past written book reviews for Shots.
Afterward, Mike and I needed some exercise, so we walked around the Central Business District that contains the Ruby Slipper. We subsequently checked out of the Hotel Monteleone and moved, like most other Bouchercon-goers, into the larger Marriott on Canal for the balance of our New Orleans stay. He and I considered ourselves blessed, because my Fan Guest of Honor status won us a 26th-floor suite. Mike was so excited that he shouted, in his broad London cockney accent (not uncommonly mistaken for a speech impediment), “At last, separate rooms!”
We spent much of Monday afternoon unpacking and lounging in our new digs, until Larry Gandle texted me to say he’d secured us dinner reservations at a place called Ralph’s on the Park, in Mid-City, one of several well-known eateries owned by local restaurateur Ralph Brennan. George Easter went along with our party to that satisfying meal, during which I even allowed myself a glass of the wine that Larry (a wine connoisseur) had chosen—a special treat. Sadly, Indiana bookseller “Mystery Mike” Bursaw couldn’t also be with us, due to a scheduling conflict. This is one of the problems with Bouchercon: It’s such a large event, that clashes are inevitable.
Day Three (Wednesday, September 3)
After an early breakfast (by now, you can guess where we ate), Mike and I were able to register for the convention and headed to our first panel presentation, at noon: “Getting Started: How Ideas Become Stories,” moderated by Alex Shaw. This turned out to be an instructive analysis of how fictionists run with an idea, and how they choose to turn it into a short story, a novella, or a full-blown novel.
Following that, we had to choose between a trio of simultaneous sessions—one that plumbed the darkness and despair of noir fiction, another about “dabbling” in the horror genre, and a third titled “Crafting Mysteries and Thrillers Set in Foreign Lands.” Since that last roundtable featured one of my favorite authors, Holly West (Mistress of Fortune, The Money Block), I joined its audience.
At the Irish bar Finnegan’s Easy (on Peter Street in the French Quarter) with Ali Karim, Larry Gandle, and Mike Stotter.
With so many Bouchercons under my belt, I did not feel the same necessity I once did to participate in everything on the program. Rather, Mike and I returned to the French Quarter, where we found an Irish bar to our liking and were met there presently by Larry Gandle. It was time well spent, and I even treated myself to a small glass of Guinness as we caught up on each other’s lives. Rarely does one laugh as much as can be done in the genial company of longtime friends, particularly those who share your reading passions.
Our last Wednesday outing was to the Marriott Hotel’s 41st-floor Riverview Room and the 2025 Guests of Honor Dinner. Mike Stotter spruced himself up for the occasion, ironing his suitcase-creased attire (including socks and underwear). Our entrées were grilled filet mignon and butter-poached Maine lobster, accompanied by wine in Mike’s case, though only water in mine. Convention co-chair Heather Graham greeted us all, and I soon got to chatting with the other honorees, among them Young Adult Guest of Honor Jonathan Maberry (familiar for his post-apocalyptic zombie thrillers, such as Rot & Ruin, plus his adult horror tales) and Toastmaster Guest of Honor Alex Segura (Alter Ego, Enemy of My Enemy). I amused Wyoming-based Craig Johnson (creator of the Walt Longmire series) with stories of my living in Laramie back in the 1980s, and I was quite humbled by Mark Greaney, who remembered how I’d championed his debut novel, The Gray Man, during Bouchercon 2009 in Indianapolis. George Easter is responsible for having pointed me at Greaney’s riveting book, which went on to be adapted as a 2022 Netflix movie.
Day Four (Thursday, September 4)
This was going to be a big day, so I started off right with what had become my standard Big Easy morning fare: whole-wheat toast and grape jelly, scrambled eggs, breakfast potatoes, and coffee—all with NO SALT (especially in the coffee). Our retinue had expanded to accommodate not only Mike Stotter, George Easter, Timi Cassera, and myself, but also English cop-turned-writer Steve Packwood (The Dissection Murders) and his wife, Sue. Unfortunately, George and I had to leave a tad early.
He was to interview me onstage (as Fan Guest of Honor) at 10:30 a.m., and we wanted to discuss our plans beforehand.To say I was nervous about facing a crowd of readers and writers in the Carondelet Ballroom, on the Marriott’s third floor, was an understatement. I had even brought a harmonica for George to play, whenever my digressions went too far off topic. However, his opportune prompts, steely resolve, and only occasional toot-toots on the harmonica got us through that hour, and my anecdotes appeared to be well-received. I am rarely at a loss for words, and certainly proved it that day! I thanked George at the end of the session by presenting him with a Union Jack summer hat (above), plus matching socks and eye-glasses, to much amusement.
Then it was off to my official signing of the Bouchercon 2025 short-story anthology, Blood on the Bayou: Case Closed, edited by Don Bruns (Down & Out). That 374-page paperback includes New Orleans-based yarns by Reed Farrel Coleman, Heather Graham, Tim Maleeny, Kelli Stanley, Charles Todd, Jeff Ayers, and others. It also features my Foreword, “Avid Fan: The Hunt for Dr. Fell,” which advances a theory about the source of “Dr. Fell”—the alias fugitive serial killer Hannibal Lecter assumes in Thomas Harris’ Hannibal, his 1999 sequel to The Silence of the Lambs—and connects it to another of my favorite horror/crime fiction authors, Robert Bloch (Psycho).
Next, I checked out this year’s silent-auction items, arranged on tables in the convention’s book-sales room. Many of the attendees and guests at Bouchercon 2025 had been solicited for items to auction off for the benefit of the New Orleans public library system. I’d organized two donations: an advance reader copy of the UK edition of Kill Your Darlings, Peter Swanson’s latest standalone thriller (complete with a signed bookplate from the author and a signed copy of my Shots review of said work); and a packet of Thomas Harris-related materials, among them a softcover copy of Hannibal and the July 8, 1999, edition of London’s Evening Standard newspaper showcasing the release of that novel at Maxim Jakubowski’s Murder One Bookstore.
Ali’s auction items displayed in the Bouchercon book-sales room.
I had enough time to sit through an onstage interview with Lisa Jewell (Don’t Let Him In), Bouchercon’s British Guest of Honor, before speeding to another panel discussion I was to take part in: “Secrets of Reviewers, Bloggers, and Booksellers.” That 3:30 p.m. session was moderated by former Bouchercon board chair Dave Magayna, backed up ably by Deadly Pleasures critics Meredith Anthony and Ted Hertel; Ryan Gilbert, the manager of New York City’s Mysterious Bookshop; Dru Ann Love of Dru’s Book Musings; and yours truly. It was an hour during which I teased Ryan a bit for his youth and kindly nature with book buyers, and jokingly corrected Meredith who, while extolling I.S. Berry’s Edgar Award-winning thriller, The Peacock and the Sparrow, mispronounced “Bahrain” (a place where I used to work).
That evening’s key events commenced with a 5 p.m. interview, by novelist Alafair Burke, of Michael Connelly, the creator of Los Angeles detective Harry Bosch (and author of the recent novel Nightshade), who was being honored this year for his “Lifetime Contribution to the Genre.” After which Mike Stotter and I retreated to our rooms, he ironed a shirt for the festivities to come (ironing being something Mike and Lee Child apparently both enjoy doing), and then we assembled at the front of the Marriott Hotel together with this year’s other Guests of Honor. We’d been told there would be a second line parade—a New Orleans tradition—carrying us to the convention’s opening ceremonies at the renowned National WWII Museum, just under a mile away. Sure enough, there were yellow pedicabs waiting by the sidewalk for us to board, police on motorcycles and a brass band prepared to lead the procession, and hundreds of conference-goers ready to join in.
Mike Stotter and Ali Karim, keen for the parade to start.
Michael Connelly (right) with his wife of four decades, Linda, whose maiden name—McCaleb—he gave to Terry McCaleb, the criminal profiler protagonist in his 1998 thriller, Blood Work.
Alafair Burke with Toastmaster Alex Segura.
Among the pedicabbing bunch, too, were Teresa Smith Wilson, who worked the Bouchercon registration desk, and author Craig Johnson’s special guest, actor A Martinez, remembered for playing Cheyenne businessman Jacob Nighthorse in the TV series Longmire.
Obviously, Longmire fan Ali Karim hadn’t expected to see A Martinez in the pedicab nestled next to his and Mike Stotter’s outside the Marriott. (Photo by Peter Rozovsky.)
It was a moment that will remain firmly in my memory: In the Marriott’s lobby immediately prior to the parade, J. “Jeff” Kingston Pierce, my dear friend and the editor of The Rap Sheet, strode up behind Mike and me and threw his arms around us. Seems he’d arrived in New Orleans only an hour before, barely in time to make the parade’s kick-off. I call Jeff one of the hardest-working editors in the modern world of crime and mystery fiction. While other blogs have fallen by the wayside, he’s maintained and regularly updated The Rap Sheet for almost 20 years now. Although we stay in touch via e-mail, Jeff and I hadn’t seen each other since New Orleans last hosted Bouchercon, in 2016. Yet as our pedicab slowly wound through the city’s colorful streets, Jeff walked beside it and we talked and shared some of our triumphs and challenges of the intervening years as if we’d never been apart, as if we were resuming a chinwag begun a day or two past. That’s the way it is with good friends: There’s never any awkwardness, despite the gaps.
But again, I digress ...
At the close of our journey, we were all invited into the museum’s U.S. Freedom Pavilion, its ceiling hung with vintage aircraft that included a restored Boeing B-17G “Flying Fortress” and a P-51 Mustang. Heather Graham and Alex Segura welcomed everyone to these opening ceremonies, and then three different sets of annual awards—the Barrys (given by Deadly Pleasures), the Shamuses (for private-eye fiction), and the Derringers (honoring short stories)—were handed out to their 2025 winners. In addition, this year’s David Thompson Memorial Special Service Award was presented to Lucinda Surber and Stan Ulrich for their efforts on behalf of the annual Left Coast Crime convention, their management of the Web site Stop, You’re Killing Me!, and other contributions to the crime-fiction field. Note that Stan proved to be a man of few words, simply following Lucinda’s remarks with “What she said,” and relishing the ensuing guffaws.
A mass signing of the Bouchercon 2025 short-story anthology, Blood on the Bayou: Case Closed, by its editor and contributors had been arranged to follow the opening ceremonies, and then the Freedom Pavilion remained open to Bouchercon guests, should they wish to tour it. Mike and I, though, departed for a dinner engagement.
Day Five (Friday, September 5)
Despite our unwavering patronage, the staff of the Ruby Slipper were not overjoyed about our morning group continually adding more members, requiring that we move to bigger tables and pull up extra chairs. Furthermore, we couldn’t all seem to arrive at the same time. There were 10 of us today, as we finally added Jeff Pierce. Although he and I had spoken during yesterday’s parade, we continued our conversation as he tucked into his Southern Breakfast (scrambled eggs, stone-ground grits, applewood-smoked bacon, fried green tomato, and a buttermilk biscuit). It was a special time, but also very funny. One has to see amusement in the absurdity we call our reality.
Our expanded, September 5 breakfast group at the Ruby Slipper. From the bottom, and clockwise around the table: Peter Rozovsky, J. Kingston Pierce, Ali Karim, Mike Stotter, George Easter, Deadly Pleasures reviewer Maggie Mason, Steve Packwood with his wife, Sue Ross, Timi Cassera, and author Jeffrey Siger.
Back at the Marriott, I bumped into New Jersey residents Les Blatt (who used to write the Classic Mysteries blog) and his wife, Leslie, both of whom are well-read and witty. I thanked them for helping me during the hubbub of the 2015 Raleigh Bouchercon, and then hurried to one of the panel exchanges I most wanted to see: “Elementary! The Sherlock Effect.” On hand to talk about 19th-century author Arthur Conan Doyle, his famous “consulting detective,” and how Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson influenced later detective fiction were Liese Sherwood-Fabre (The Adventure of the Purloined Portrait), who served as moderator; Elizabeth Crowens (A War in Too Many Worlds); Kate Hohl, winner of the Mystery Writers of America’s 2024 Robert L. Fish Memorial Award; Kathleen Kaska (author of the 1950s-era Sydney Lockhart series); Leslie S. Klinger, editor of The New Annotated Sherlock Holmes; and Nicholas Meyer, screenwriter and author of The Seven-Per-Cent Solution as well as its half-dozen sequels). Their interactions were most informative, but the session’s real attraction came in the droll interplay between Meyer and Klinger.
Once the discussion was done, I trailed (aka stalked) that pair into the signing area of the convention’s book room in order to chat with them and get their signatures on some bookplates I’d packed along.(Left) Holmes authorities Leslie S. Klinger and Nicholas Meyer.
My next stop was the presentation “Villains: The Dark Side of Humanity,” starring—among other novelists—Reed Farrel Coleman, Domenic Stansberry, and Duane Swierczynski. After listening to the speakers’ suggestions of how to develop credible and execrable bad guys in fiction, and use them to best effect, I felt impelled to ask the panelists, “Why is it that the English accent is so popular when casting villains?” Once the laughter that provoked had quieted, Reed quipped, “Only Ali could ask that question!”
Friday’s program offered one more must-see round-table rumination, this one called “Crime Rave: Mystery Reviewers Talk About Their Favorite Crime Fiction.” It brought together Deadly Pleasures (DP) editor George Easter, who acted as moderator; DP associate editor Larry Gandle; Oline H. Cogdill of the South Florida Sun Sentinel; DP contributor Meredith Anthony; and Jeff Pierce of The Rap Sheet. It is always great to see Bouchercon feature panels of book critics, because both readers and writers want to know what attracts the people whose opinions can so influence book-buying decisions. Quite a crowd turned out for this mid-afternoon event, and kudos to George for providing everyone with a handout listing the novels to be recommended. George and Larry stirred chuckles with their contrary viewpoints on recently released works, and Jeff’s fervent endorsements were delivered at a volume that substantiated his caution about not really needing a microphone to be heard in that confined space. Many notes were taken by listeners during this hour, with one book being distinctly touted: Ordinary Bear, by C.B. Bernard, which just the day before had picked up the 2025 Barry Award for Best First Crime Novel (and a copy of which George thrust into my hands as a gift). When Jeff pointed out that Bernard was seated in the audience’s front row, and then entreated everyone there to please encourage him to compose more crime fiction, heads swiveled and you could almost hear Bernard’s sales stats climbing.
The loud and proud Crime Rave panel (left to right): George Easter, Larry Gandle, Oline H. Cogdill, Meredith Anthony, and J. Kingston Pierce. (Photo by Ali Karim.)
And then it was party time. Receptions organized by book publishers are standard elements of Bouchercon, and New Orleans didn’t disappoint. We began with a cocktail affair on the 41st floor of the Marriott, hosted by Atria Books (a division of Simon & Schuster) and attended by a number of its notable authors, including Lisa Jewell, the mysterious I.S. Berry, and C.L. “Cara” Miller, who concocts the “Antique Hunter’s” series. Miller went on to join our entourage as we moved to the next bash, this one at Crescent City Brewhouse on Decatur Street and sponsored by St. Martin’s Press/Minotaur Books. There I reconnected with Hector DeJean, Minotaur’s associate director of publicity, who I hadn’t seen for close to a decade—and with whom I share a passion for U.S. comic books, though he doesn’t collect the superhero titles so much as Conan and horror classics.
By this point, I was feeling weary, and pondered going back to the Marriott. Instead, I snatched up a Coca-Cola for the caffeine rush, and with four of the usual suspects still in tow—Mike Stotter, Jeff Pierce, Timi Cassera, and Alex Shaw—proceeded onward.
Which, as we soon joined the Mysterious Press 50th-anniversary party at the Maison Bourbon jazz club on bustling Bourbon Street, was confirmed as the smartest choice I could have made.
The second-story view over Bourbon Street we enjoyed while attending the Mysterious Press 50th-anniversary party.
Like so many other people in the crime- and mystery-fiction community, I’ve known New York bookseller, editor, and Mysterious Press publisher Otto Penzler for, well, ages. Earlier this year I met up with him during his visit to England for the London Book Fair, and learned he had a new Lee Child work in the pipeline titled Reacher: The Stories Behind the Stories. It finally appeared just after Bouchercon ended, and after I’d predicted that that non-fiction collection of origin tales would “not only appeal to readers of the Jack Reacher novels, but also to readers (and writers) who wish to uncover the physical mechanics behind the writing process.”
Although Child wasn’t among the revelers who showed up at the historic Maison Bourbon on Friday after 9 p.m. to avail themselves of Otto’s open bar and savory snacks, various other familiar wordsmiths were on hand: Nicholas Meyer, Sara J. Henry, Gary Phillips, Jamie Mason, and Duane Swierczynski to name a few. There, too, was Dennis Pozzessere, probably the coolest guy I know and a very dear old friend. He’s Heather Graham’s husband, and our paths have crossed many times in both the United States and Britain. This party gave us a chance to laugh again at our adventures, especially our time at the 2010 World Horror Convention in Bristol, England, and our introduction there to actress and writer Ingrid Pitt.
Yet it was Gerald Petievich I was most chuffed to encounter. A former Army counterspy and U.S. Secret Service agent, Los Angeles resident Petievich is still most celebrated for penning Money Men (1981), To Live and Die in L.A. (1983), and The Sentinel (2003), all of which were adapted for the big screen. He seemed to disappear, though, after producing that last work, which focused on a Secret Service agent facing blackmail for his affair with the First Lady. What I hadn’t realized until Bouchercon was that Petievich—now in his early 80s—has a 10th novel to his name, 13 Hillcrest Drive, published this last June. Its story turns on a once-prominent Hollywood publicity agent who is slain while trading in Beverly Hills’ most valuable currency: secrets. You won’t be surprised to learn that I snapped up a copy in New Orleans and asked Petievich to sign it.
Gerald Petievich (left) with Ali Karim and Otto Penzler at the Mysterious Press reception. (Photo by Mike Stotter.)
As midnight neared, Mike and I found our way back to the hotel. But others continued making merry. This was New Orleans, after all.
Day Six (Saturday, September 6)
Another convivial breakfast at the Ruby Slipper (this time with Timi, Alex Shaw, George Easter, and Peter Rozovsky all joining our traditional trio) was followed by a spate of intriguing panel talks—so many, with clashes all over the place, that serious choices were required.
My morning and early afternoon found me in the audience at three exciting and informative sessions: “Military Thrillers: From the Frontline to the Printed Page,” bringing together authors Peter Colt, Mark Greaney, T.R. Hendricks, and others; “No Passport Required: International Mysteries and Thrillers,” which hosted Cara Black, Joseph Finder, and Jeffrey Siger, with British historical crime-fictionist Mark Ellis moderating; and after lunch, “Book to Screen: Worth the Journey?,” which mustered such authorities on the subject as Michael Connelly (Bosch, Ballard), Craig Johnson (Longmire), and Alafair Burke (The Better Sister), the last of who stepped in after Michael Koryta (Those Who Wish Me Dead) was unable to attend.
Then I needed to sprint to reach another of my own group presentations, “Predicting Trends: Is It Ever Possible?” South Dakota bookseller Donus D. Roberts had charge this time of keeping things lively and on point. Joining him at the front of the meeting room were publisher Otto Penzler, looking to have survived the previous night’s carouse; Zoe Quinton, editor-in-chief of Fringe Press; literary agency assistant James Farner; celebrity ghostwriter and editor Julie McCarron; and my humble self. Foretelling the birth of book fads is most often a fool’s enterprise; once a trend is recognized, it’s usually on its way out already. Regardless, this hour-long deliberation spurred us to ponder the potential impacts of artificial intelligence on fiction-writing and to recall assorted past trends, such as the rise of “whydunits” (novels emphasizing the tangled psychological motives behind criminal behavior) and “genre blending” (incorporating elements of horror or science fiction into mysteries, for example).
I brought up Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl, the 2012 thriller I found so hard to review (see my effort for the Strand Magazine) and how that sparked a shift toward unreliable narrators in domestic noir.(Right) Ali signs a copy of the Bouchercon 2025 short-story collection.
Time for another trip to the book-sales room, where I was to ink more copies of Blood on the Bayou. And where I got to catch up at last with old friends on the order of Michelle Gagnon (Slaying You), Steve Steinbock (“Jury Box” columnist for Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine), and Charles Todd (A Christmas Witness). Bouchercon being the size it is nowadays, there’s every likelihood you will never spot some of the people you know for a fact are there; or if you do see them, you’ll never be able to share more than a flying greeting on your way to another event. It’s luck, pure and simple, that led me over the course of those days in New Orleans to bump into Lou Berney, Sara J. Henry, Lee Goldberg, Taylor Stevens, and other acquaintances from prior conferences.
On that Saturday afternoon, I exhausted so much energy in jabbering with cronies and colleagues, that I missed the live auction of donated goods at 6:10 p.m. in the Carondelet Ballroom, as well as James Rollins’ subsequent interview with his fellow author, Bouchercon Special Guest of Honor Brad Thor (Edge of Honor), in the same space!
I did remember, however, to go back up to our suite and prepare for that evening’s Anthony Awards ceremony at 8 p.m. Mike Stotter had already returned; he was busy ironing yet another shirt.
Both Bouchercon and the Anthonys are named for Anthony Boucher (aka William Anthony Parker White), a prominent 20th-century author and editor. He helped found the Mystery Writers of America organization in 1945, and toiled as a crime-fiction critic for the San Francisco Chronicle and, later, The New York Times. The Anthonys have been handed out during Bouchercons dating back to 1986. Nominees and recipients are chosen by convention attendees.
Editor J. Kingston Pierce shares a table at the Anthony Awards ceremony with Lucinda Surber and Stan Ulrich, recipients of this year’s David Thompson Memorial Special Service Award.
Co-hosts Heather Graham and Alex Segura managed the dispensing of this year’s many commendations with aplomb. Names of the winners have all been published in The Rap Sheet. They included Liz Moore’s The God of the Woods being named Best Hardcover Novel (unfortunately, she wasn’t on hand to accept her prize) and K.T. Nguyen’s You Know What You Did picking up the Best First Novel title. After abundant applause for victors and other nominees alike, those of us who didn’t wish to continue partying into the wee hours retired quietly. I was in bed by 10:30—a late night by my new standards.
Day Seven (Sunday, September 7)
Our Ruby Slipper breakfast squad this morning added one of America’s greatest thriller writers, Joseph Finder. I had missed dining and talking with Joe, as we’d done at Bouchercons past, so this was an excellent opportunity to catch up and to discuss his latest work, The Oligarch’s Daughter, released in the States last January, and making its UK paperback debut on September 11. We enjoyed having Joe in our company, though his ordering beignets for breakfast, with sausage and extra syrup, was a tad weird. And he looked very good, even bald. Jeff Pierce finally asked him about his change in appearance, and Joe smiled before saying, “That’s what cancer will do to you.”
Today was bittersweet, as it brought this Bouchercon to a close. Yet it came with hopeful moments and left me with warm recollections.
We skipped the final panel events, but returned to the Carondelet Ballroom for an 11 a.m. briefing on next year’s Bouchercon, in Calgary, Alberta. Then I took to the stage to answer questions about my life and my interest in crime fiction, along with most of this conference’s other special guests: Craig Johnson, Brad Thor, Alex Segura, and Steph Cha, the Thriller Guest of Honor. I found myself most impressed by Thor, even if his natty dress (white suit and loafers) contrasted sharply with own green military,
Jack Reacher-style T-shirt, shorts, and track shoes. He displayed an unusual depth of knowledge about the history of British espionage fiction. At one point, moderator Heather Graham asked us all to name the published work of which we were most proud, and I said mine was an 11,000-word essay on UK spy fiction that appeared in British Crime Writing: An Encyclopedia (2009). Then I asked the group whether anyone could name the first published British espionage novel. There were blank looks all around, until Thor said, hesitantly, “Was it Kim, by Rudyard Kipling?” I was astounded! Most people, if they ventured any guess whatsoever, would’ve said the book I had in mind was Erskine Childers’ The Riddle of the Sands (1903). But in fact, Kim was published serially in McClure’s Magazine from December 1900 to October 1901, and was finally released in book form by Macmillan & Co. Ltd. in October 1901. Thor deserved the rousing cheers he received for a job well done.With the convention ended, Mike Stotter, Timi Cassera, Jeff Pierce, and I decided another ramble through the nearby French Quarter was called for. The temperature had, thankfully, fallen from the mid-90s of earlier in that week, and the skies were clear. We stopped by Rev. Zombie’s Voodoo Shop on Royal Street to peruse its voodoo dolls, amulets, and other voodoo-related items. Passing the famous St. Louis Cathedral and adjacent Jackson Square, we reached Decatur Street on the riverfront and there stopped in a tourist shop to browse the myriad T-shirts—not-too-expensive souvenirs to take home.
Mike, Jeff, Timi, and I dine on étouffée, jambalaya, and more at the corner French Market Restaurant, on Decatur Street.
After breaking for a splendid late lunch at the French Market Restaurant, we strolled the length of the landmark open-air market across the street, again looking for gifts. Eventually, we wound our way back to the 163-year-old Café du Monde, where Jeff wanted to introduce us to sugar-covered “bennets” or “beenygets,” or however you’re supposed to pronounce their name. [Editor’s note: Again, it’s “beignets,” Ali.] Everybody else seemed to enjoy them, but they looked to me like diabetes on a plate. I abstained.
Our purchases in hand, we returned to the hotel. But that evening, Mike, Jeff, and I strode right back into the Quarter, where we found a bar at which we could sit and continue talking about what we’ve been up to over the last nine years. I drank ginger beer, but my friends instead enjoyed Old Fashioneds (classic whiskey cocktails). We basically sucked the life out of a New Orleans evening, and I felt better than I had in a long while. It’s a pity we live so far apart.
There I go with another digression.
The following morning, Monday, the three of us met again for breakfast at the Ruby Slipper; most everyone else had left the day before. As we ate, we recalled a handful of our favorite moments from the trip, and how much fun this Bouchercon had been. Really, though, it was the fine company that had made the time away so special, so life-affirming. Before we left the restaurant, we snapped photographs with a few of the employees we’d gotten to know there, including our favorite waitress. And we promised to come back soon.
Meanwhile, what do you say, my friends—next year in Calgary?
(All photographs in this post © 2025.)
