Tuesday, September 20 2005, Munster, Indiana
All good things must come to an end, as someone once said. Well, probably more than once. And today is our last day in the US. This afternoon we get back onto our Delta flight, Chapter 11 permitting, and head back to Manchester airport. At home, three weeks can pass in a blur but over here it seems to have lasted forever. I'm not entirely sure we can still remember how to find our house.
The weird thing is that I can't really bring to mind a truly negative experience about the whole trip. And I'm the kind of person who focuses − Andy would say fixates − on the negative when I can find it.
Staying with Judy Bobalik and spending time in her company has been a delight from start to finish. This morning I spoke to Ruth Jordan − we spent the weekend with Ruth and her husband Jon, of Crimespree magazine − and she said, 'Let's do this again.' And, despite my naturally pessimistic nature, I do believe she meant it :-)
But, the closer it gets to home time, the more enormous seems the amount of work we have to do when we get there. Once we get back into the daily routine, I'll be updating my blog every week, just to let you know how the latest Charlie Fox book is coming on and all the rest of my news. I hope, if you've been following the progress of the tour, you'll come back and see me!
Saturday and Sunday, September 17-18 2005, Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Friday night we landed back at Chicago Midway and our wonderful friend − and professional life-runner − Judy Bobalik collected us from the airport with her customary generous efficiency. We discovered that Richard Katz from Mystery One in Milwaukee had called Judy while we were in the air and, rather than drive up to Wisconsin on Saturday, Richard had arranged a TV interview on Fox 6 Wake Up News at 7.45am the following morning. We repacked the bags, said hello and goodbye to Judy's long-suffering and ever-so-slightly bemused husband, John, and jumped into Judy's car for the two-hour drive north.
It was after 9pm when we left, so it was close to midnight by the time we arrived at the amazing home of Jon and Ruth Jordan in Milwaukee. The heart and drive behind Crimespree magazine, the Jordans live in an apartment that's filled floor to ceiling with books. And they're high ceilings.
It's hard to imagine meeting a nicer couple, or one more deeply involved in the mystery book scene − and doing more for authors. They even gave up their bed for us to stay over, shared their home, and Ruth made us her world famous apple pie. And if it isn't world famous, it certainly should be . . .
The slot on Fox 6, with Nicole, included a couple of good shots of the First Drop cover, mentioned the website address, and the fact that I was signing at Richard Katz's store, Mystery One, later that day. They even produced a videotape of the segment, although we later discovered they'd taped the wrong part of the show. Nice to know even the professionals can't work the VCR, isn't it?
After breakfast out, we dropped in at two of the Schwartz stores − in Shorewood and Brookfield, to sign stock for them. First Drop is part of the Schwartz Top 100, so it was being well-promoted in the store, which was great. Then on to Richard's store for a fun event. Ted and Maggie Hertel, whom we met at Bouchercon, also turned up. Ted's wonderfully titled short story, 'It's Crackers to Slip a Rozzer the Dropsey in Snide' was short-listed for an Anthony award this year. It was lovely to see them both again, although I'm sure Ted feels the running joke about me being a professional assassin who's accepted a contract on him is wearing somewhat thin by now . . .
Sunday morning we said our goodbyes to Jon and Ruth and their collection of personality cats, and somehow in the middle of all that I think I promised them 500 words by the end of September about the tour. There's a job for the airport lounge between check-in and departure!
The Jordans are so supportive of authors in this field that your automatic response to any request from them is to say yes. I had also said yes to donating the opportunity to become a character in the next Charlie Fox book for the auction at Bouchercon. Much to my amazement, it raised $750 for a children's literacy program, partly thanks to some extra whipping-up of enthusiasm from fellow crime writer, Joe Konrath.
I met the lady who made the winning bid, Frances L Neagley, at Bouchercon, and have already begun to formulate her character's role. The name just fits for her to be a Boston cop, don't you think?
Sunday we drove across to Madison to Booked For Murder, where Kathy made us very welcome − particularly when Judy bought a stack of books she could hardly see over the top of! And I managed to find a second-hand hardcover copy of an old Robert B Parker I've been after for a while. A nice crowd who greeted me warmly and someone even brought with them news of a great First Drop review in the Chicago Tribune.
Drove back down to Indiana guided by a glorious moon hanging over the stunning Chicago night-time skyline. What a perfect way to round off the tour.
Friday, September 16 2005, San Mateo, California
Thursday we left Kim and Jim's house up in Santa Clarita early and experienced the full joy that is the LA rush hour on our way to the optimistically named Bob Hope International Airport at Burbank for our morning flight up to San José. We were amazed how empty the HOV (high occupancy vehicle) lane was on the freeway. Are people so insular that they don't or won't car share?
Thursday evening we were due to sign at M is For Mystery, Ed Kaufman's magnificent cathedral-like store on E 3rd in San Mateo. Fellow mystery author John Billheimer proved what a gentleman he is by coming to hear me talk even though he's probably heard all my stories many times before − and plenty of books to sign. Ed was generous enough to let me use the store computer to send a quick blog and check my emails. I note that our visit with Lee Goldberg on Wednesday made it into his blog. Lee, I had no idea you were so smitten with my husband! Although, I can entirely understand that Andy could turn a man's head . . .
Afterwards, we drove into San Francisco to meet up with another fellow scribbler, Joel Goldman, who'd had to miss out on Bouchercon because his day job as a lawyer meant he was tied up with a long-running case that was being dealt with away from his Kansas City base. It was weird to be meeting up with him when we were both so far from home.
This morning we caught another Southwest flight from San José back to Chicago, during which we realised the probable reason why so few people car share. The three people in the seats behind us, and the two in those ahead, spent the entire four-hour flight talking very, very loudly about money in a way that suggested they didn't have as much of it as they would like each other to believe. I ended up having to put ear plugs in to be able to work on the next chapter of my new book.
Still, the superb view of the snow-covered Rockies on the way across country more than made up for it.
Thursday, September 15 2005, San Mateo, California
Yesterday I had two signings with Lee Goldberg, author of the acclaimed Diagnosis Murder and Monk series. I gave Lee a bit of info about British-isms for his latest DM book, The Past Tense, and he was kind enough to give me a credit in the front of the book for it. I picked up a copy at The Mystery Bookstore and read the start of it in the car on the way to dinner. Good set-up!
We started off at The Mystery Bookstore in Westwood Village, then Lee drove us over to Malibu Beach for a quick seafood meal before we went on to Mysteries To Die For in Thousand Oaks. On the way he showed us his amazing house in the hills, where we were lucky enough to meet his wife, Valerie and his daughter, Madison, who also writes novels of her own. I bought one of Madison’s books, which she duly autographed like a true professional. Clearly her father’s daughter!
Lee sits outside on his terrace with his laptop to write, overlooking the magnificent view. It’s a wonder, with all that distraction, that he manages to write anything at all, let alone the prodigious output he achieves in both his series of books, not to mention film and TV scripts. It’s a good job I like the guy, otherwise couldn’t you just hate him . . . ?
Both stores were terrifically friendly and we both signed a good number of books for them. Afterwards Andy and I spent a second night with Kim and Jim up in Santa Clarita, who’d just been out to celebrate Jim’s fortieth birthday. Then up early to fight the LA rush hour to get to the Bob Hope International Airport at Burbank, for a flight up to San José.
Wednesday, September 14 2005, Santa Clarita, California
Yesterday was a day of contrasts. In the morning we drove down to see fellow crime author Randall Hicks and his lovely wife, Angela, who live out in the country in Fallbrook. Randall, an adoption attorney in his day job, has written successful non-fiction books on adoption, and then decided to branch out into a fast-moving mystery novel in the same vein, The Baby Game. I plan to get a copy as soon as we get back to Chicago and we have any room left in our luggage. At the moment it’s full to bursting.
He’d also done a lot of his own construction work on his house, converting the garage into a games room, knocking through walls, rebuilding doorways and putting down flooring. We spent a very enjoyable lunch eating guacamole made from their own fresh avocados, and drinking lemonade made from their own lemons. It was just a shame I’d got my timings completely wrong and suddenly realised we needed to be up in South Pasadena at 5pm, not 7pm, so we had to go haring off to Book ‘Em Mysteries to meet Jean and Barry at the store. A quiet signing, but it was nice to meet the staff and we walked up the street for green tea ice cream at Buster’s.
Drove up to Valencia, missing the worst of the late evening rush, to stay with Kim, whom we met at Left Coast Crime, and her husband, Jim − and their son Jonathan and dog, Leo − who have a lovely house in Santa Clarita. Kim probably has more books than most of the bookstores we’ve been into on this trip, and that’s saying something!
Tuesday, September 13 2005, Newport Beach, California
Yesterday we picked up another horribly early Southwest flight from San Antonio to San Diego, via Phoenix. We crept out of Patsy Asher’s house, where we’d been staying, at a little after 5am. Patsy was up to wish us goodbye, though. A lovely lady who runs a terrific store, Remember The Alibi, which has a wonderful selection of both new and second-hand books. I even managed to find another old hardcover Leslie Charteris volume to add to my The Saint collection. And only $10.00!
We’ve been using Southwest for all our internal flights in the US. There’s no seat allocation system − you can call after midnight on the day you’re travelling and are put into one of three boarding zones. A gets to board first and C last. In other words, he with the sharpest elbows gets the best seat. Having said that, we’ve been very impressed with the staff and the service. Randy, our flight attendant on the Phoenix to San Diego leg, was a real showman who added a nice touch of humour to the standard announcements. ‘In unlikely the event of a water landing, here in the south-western desert, your seat cushion can be used as a floatation device . . .’ We watched the sun rise over the wing of our Boeing 737 700 shortly after takeoff, then flew over the mountains and the Salton Sea on the way in to land. I love seeing this country from the air.
Today we’re back hitting the bookstores promoting First Drop but yesterday we chilled out, had a great lunch at Crabcatchers in La Jolla, overlooking the Pacific. Later, sticking to the seafood theme, we ate at the recommended Joe’s Crab Shack in Newport Beach. The waitress, Veronica, asked if it was our birthday. It wasn’t. And, having seen her persuade another girl to run up and down the restaurant, waving a plastic crustacean and yelling, ‘I’ve got crabs!’ to the accompaniment of out-of-tune celebratory singing, I wouldn’t have admitted to it being my birthday, even if it was . . .
Monday, September 12 2005, San Antonio, Texas
Drove down to San Antonio from Hillsboro first thing this morning, through lightning and rain that came down so hard the wipers couldn't cope even on full speed. A lot of people had pulled over onto the shoulder of the road to let the weather pass. Andy braved the conditions behind the wheel while I had the laptop out and managed to get the chapter I was working on finished off so, for me at least, it was a good trip.
If America is full of spaces, Texas is the space between the spaces. It's vast and there's this sense of isolation to the small communities. I can imagine what it must be like to be a kid growing up in one of these small towns, feeling cut off from the rest of the world. This is where you need books and stories, to inflame your imagination. Who was it who said that the biggest journeys are the ones you make in your own head?
This afternoon we did a signing event at Patsy Asher's wonderfully-named store, Remember The Alibi. A small but friendly crowd and plenty of books to sign, then a drop-in at the local Barnes & Noble.
Patsy had generously offered us a bed for the night and we thoroughly enjoyed sitting round the kitchen table talking. Her husband, Richard, a retired cop, told us stories of his undercover work and cooked the best catfish supper we've ever tasted. There's nothing like home cooking!
Today we have another early flight and then we're in California for the rest of the week. Looking forward to it!
Sunday, September 11 2005, Hillsboro, Texas
Woke up this morning to find it had rained during the night. I didn't think it did that in Texas . . . Actually, we've had the most spectacular rainstorms we've ever seen on previous visits to Dallas, but you get lulled into this false expectation that when you open the curtains in the morning it'll be blazing sunshine outside.
Yesterday we drove up to Dallas and had lunch with book collector extraordinaire, Bill Lindquist and his wife, Denise. They are just about to embark on building their own house so we spent as much time talking construction as books. A delightful couple, who very kindly gave up a large chunk of their Saturday afternoon to show us around Plano, here in Texas.
Did two signing events at Barnes & Noble bookstores in the area − one in Plano and one in Frisco. The second was with Harry Hunsicker, another St Martin's author. Harry's fast-paced debut crime thriller, Still River, is set in Dallas and features a tough PI called Lee Henry Oswald (no relation to the other Lee Oswald). I picked up Harry's book at Bouchercon and read it practically at a sitting. Highly recommended!
Harry is also a terrific salesman who gave me a crash course in how to grab the attention of passing customers. He was a real gentleman who was trying to interest them as much in my book as in his. We decided we should team up again, as it's always easier to gang up on people that way!
Got in very late last night so had a lie-in until 7.30 this morning, watching the news − the utterly heartbreaking devastation in New Orleans, matched by re-runs of the reports from New York on 9/11. I can still remember watching the World Trade Center attack on television at home as it happened and thinking: 'The world will be a very different place tomorrow than it was yesterday.' Alas, today that is sadly so.
Saturday, September 10 2005, Houston, Texas
Had to be up at 3am to take our rental car back to the airport for a 5.30am flight to Houston, which was back on CDT rather than Pacific. My body has no idea what time zone it’s supposed to be in.
As soon as we landed in Texas I was overcome with Boot Need and one of the first stores we passed on the freeway was a Western outlet so I had to stop and buy another pair of Durango boots. I bought a pair in Dallas years ago. They just fit as soon as you put them on and I’ve worn them to death.
Then, of course, we went looking for a gun range − er, purely for research purposes, of course. For this we called Judy Bobalik back in Indiana. With her customary remarkable efficiency, she got onto the Internet and came back to us like a swinging door with the details of the Top Gun Handgun Training and Shooting Center on Beverley Hill, nearby. We spent a couple of entertaining hours reacquainting ourselves with the smell of cordite and discovered that both of us are plenty good enough to qualify for a concealed carry licence.
Then on to Murder By The Book. I’ve never seen so many copies of my books in one place. They reckoned they’ve sold out of just about all the ones they’d ordered, including the earlier paperbacks from the UK. A small but appreciative audience, and then a quick interview with Charles Snider for his late-night TV show.
Following directions from David at MBTB, we ate what was reputed to be the best barbecue food in Houston, at the Good Company Bar-B-Que. You wait in line to be served like a school cafeteria and eat outside at bench-style tables. David was right, though − food to die for.
Afterwards we drove north, past the stunning night-time skyline, up as far as Fairfield where we collapsed into bed at our hotel sometime around midnight. Still, compared to the last few months of work at home, this is almost a rest.
Friday, September 9 2005, Scottsdale, Arizona
Yesterday we drove 120 miles south from Phoenix to Tucson to see Chris at Clues Unlimited. Chris was very charming and even provided a snack lunch for us. Not many customers, but books to sign and it's always fun to meet bookstore staff. I had a joint event there with first-time fiction author, Randall Hicks, a lawyer specialising in adoption cases, whose book, The Baby Game, is about a lawyer who ends up dealing with the missing adopted child of a Hollywood Celebrity couple. Randall has previously written non-fiction books on adoption and has an avocado grove in southern California, hence the fact that he brought a basket of avocados to hand out.
Then it was back to Scottsdale for an evening event with Randall and Blake Crouch at Poisoned Pen − and more avocados. Barbara Peters is incredibly knowledgeable about the UK book market as well as the US and told me she'd been buying my books since the beginning. We had a great time discussing the books and writing with her customers, then grabbed a bite of sushi with Blake. After the darkly disturbing Desert Places, his new book, Locked Doors, also sounds very intriguing − and another excellent start. Sorry we lost you in traffic on the way back to the hotel, Blake!
The desert heat has a particular dehydrated quality to it, like standing in front of a bonfire and feeling your eyeballs dry out. We drove south through a stark and stunning landscape, with Warthogs and Tornados from the air base in Tucson blazing overhead. We can't get used to the space, even in a city.
Today we go to Texas on a horribly early flight. Apart from Alaska, it's the biggest state in the Union. I feel 'boot need' creeping up on me already!
Thursday, September 8 2005, Scottsdale, Arizona
Well, we flew into Arizona last night, through another time zone and into the hot dry desert heat. The English in me can't get used to the fact it's still warm when it's dark and the wind is blowing. We haven't been to Phoenix since our first ever visit to the US, back in 1989 and we flew in after dark then, too. The lighted night city looks fabulous from the air, and seems to go on for ever.
We left Judy Bobalik's place with great regret yesterday, but will be back towards the end of our trip. She's one of our very favourite people and spending time with her and her delightful husband, John, will always be a pleasure. And did we mention she has several of the cutest cats in the world?
Spoke to my US publisher to get an update on how things are going so far. I was a little worried not to find copies of First Drop in some of the Barnes & Noble stores, but Diana at St Martin's Minotaur very kindly took the time to reassure me that they've ordered plenty. And, what's more, they seem to be selling! It just takes a little time for the books to filter across to the western side of the country. I'm so grateful for all their hard work.
This morning I did an interview with the charming Ernie Villarreal for Texas Public Radio in San Antonio. Ernie told me he'd been glued to his copy of First Drop all weekend, which was amazing, although I did try when I was writing it to make the story harder to put down than it is to pick up.
Today we go to Clues Unlimited in Tucson with Randall Hicks, who I only met at Bouchercon this time, and then to an evening event with Randall and Blake Crouch at Barbara Peters' store, Poisoned Pen. Looking forward to both. In the meantime, we have the desert to drive across, which gives me great writing time.
My only regret is that I don't think we're going to have time to visit the Frank Lloyd Wright house which is just outside Scottsdale. Maybe next time.
Wednesday, September 7 2005, Munster, Indiana
Judy, Andy and I spent yesterday riding round the local chain bookstores in Chicago, looking for copies of First Drop to sign. For some reason, Barnes & Noble didn't seem to have any in stock, although Borders did, even if you had to go searching for them. Still, finding the books anywhere remains quite a thrill. And, occasionally, not to find it. I was quite disappointed to find one Borders that didn't have any copies, but when we asked at the desk we were told they'd already sold out and had reordered. Wow, looks like people might actually be buying it . . .
And it was fascinating to drive round the different areas of Chicago and the outer suburbs. I spend the day-job half of my life riding round industrial areas, looking for suitable locations to photograph people's tuned-up cars for magazine features. The area around Ford Heights, in particular, was a constant treasure trove of faded siding, peeling paint on brickwork, and cracked concrete interlaced with weeds. I suppose to anyone else it might have looked run down, but to the photographer in me it was beautiful. I could have done a dozen shoots within a couple of blocks and never had to repeat a single location.
Being out in the car also gave me the opportunity to sit and make more notes on a new book, which I sent part of to my agent, Jane Gregory, last night (US time, that is). I was hoping to be writing more than I have been doing, but once we hit Arizona I know Andy and I have a lot of time in rental cars and that's one of the places I find it easiest to write, sitting with the laptop on my knee and music on the stereo. When I was pushing my deadline on the last book, finding out that I could concentrate in the car was a godsend. We cover around 30,000 miles a year at home in our day job, so it makes good use of what would otherwise be dead time.
Erm, perhaps I should add at this point that Andy's the one doing the driving and I'm the one with the maps!
Tuesday, September 6 2005, Munster, Indiana
Spent the morning of the Labor Day holiday chilling out with Judy Bobalik and Christine Kling, talking about writing and books and the business of publishing. Christine is in the midst of her series about her female salvage boat captain, having spent much of her life on the water. We decided that we may well have our next books finished at the same time and, if that's the case, we should hook up and do some touring together. Christine is just in the process of moving onto a 30-foot sailboat which she's renaming Talespinner. Very appropriate!
Christine is also Co-Chair of next year's Sleuthfest mystery convention in Fort Lauderdale. Sleuthfest last year was where I met my US editor, Marcia Markland from St Martin's Press. It's a smaller conference than Bouchercon and very friendly. And who could turn down going to Florida in March?
Yesterday morning, in the shower, the closing line of the new Charlie Fox book arrived out of the blue and I couldn't wait to write it down. I've brought my notes and the section of the book I've written so far with me to work on, but you don't get much chance to write at a mystery convention.
Yesterday afternoon we spent a lazy day sitting outside with Judy's friends and family, having a relaxed Labor Day picnic. We finally called it a night when the bugs started to bite too hard. The cicadas here buzz like squirrels with chainsaws, a kind of electronic interference noise that's totally unlike the acoustic set played by the ones we've heard before in Florida.
This morning we were woken before dawn by the evocative mournful cry of a slow-moving railway locomotive somewhere in the quiet distance. It sparked a thousand images of sad songs and old movies. Somehow I can't see anyone in the UK getting damp-eyed over one of Richard Branson's teetering intercity expresses . . .
Monday, September 5 2005, Munster, Indiana
Well, Bouchercon finished yesterday and we sneaked out early for an hour and a half to do an architectural and historical boat trip of the Chicago waterfront before we dived back into the book room and the last-chance signing. The Innisfree left at 9am and there were probably only a dozen of us on board, including Bouchercon 2008-organiser, Judy Bobalik; Florida-based author Christine Kling, who writes the excellent Seychelle Sullivan series; Selina Walker from Transworld; and another Brit author, Jane Jakeman. The trip was terrific and the skyline breathtaking, with the cost including coffee and fresh muffins. Andy and I drooled over the boats in the marina.
We spent the rest of the morning saying goodbye to friends old and new as they were packing up and leaving the hotel. Met a delightful lady called Paula J Matter who looked much too nice to know such dirty jokes, and kept us entertained throughout the closing picnic lunch.
It's been a great event. Everybody tells me they keep hearing good things about First Drop. I just hope, when they've all had a chance to go home and actually read the book, that they still think so!
Today is Labor Day, which is not a familiar holiday in the UK, but all the stores will be closed over here. We're having a relaxing day with Judy and Christine, then tomorrow we'll be hitting whichever of the local stores have the book on the shelves, just doing drop-in signings. Too much trying to talk to people in smoky atmospheres over the weekend has given me a sore throat, which I've been treating with spray. It will be nice to give my voice a bit of a rest today, because I think I might be using it a lot over the coming week or so.
Sunday, September 4 2005, Bouchercon Mystery Writers' Convention, Chicago
I had my second panel, on scene setting and location, at 9am yesterday morning with Vicki Delany, Erin Hart, Ingrid (IJ) Parker and Louise Ure. It was amazingly well attended for that time in the morning, considering how late everyone stayed up in the bar the night before. Vicki did a superb and generous job as moderator, sending out a list of great questions far enough in advance for us to give proper thought to the answers, and it showed in a slick and professional performance from everyone. People I'd never met before were coming up to me for the rest of the day and saying what a great panel they thought it was. I certainly take no more than a fifth of the credit for that.
In the signing room afterwards I initially couldn't find my designated table because, unbelievably, the line of people standing in front of it obscured my name tag from view. Afterwards, down in the book room, one of the dealers, Mystery Mike, told me First Drop was the best thriller with a female lead he'd ever read. Probably a huge exaggeration, but I grabbed the compliment with both hands before he could think about taking it back. Sorry to blow my own trumpet like this but at the time I felt like doing a full-blown fanfare.
Everyone keeps telling me there's a buzz about the book and that it was the 'It' book of the event, whatever that means. The only bad thing that's happened all weekend was that I got bitten on my arm by what I'd assumed was a mosquito but I was later told was probably a spider, while we were out at Navy Pier on Wednesday evening and at one point the whole of the side of my forearm and down into my hand had swelled up. Fortunately, we never travel without bite/sting/sunburn cream and managed to treat it. I jokingly told the audience at the self-defence panel Meg Chittenden and I did on Friday that the only way I knew of fighting off mosquitoes was to put an arm-lock on them, but they had too many arms . . .
Saturday, September 3 2005, Bouchercon Mystery Writers' Convention, Chicago
Well, I didn't win the Barry award, but never really seriously expected to. It sounds a cliché, but just to be mentioned in the same breath as the other nominees was an honour in itself. Best British went to John Harvey for Flesh and Blood, an outstanding book that also took a CWA Dagger last year.
Ken Bruen, Mark Billingham, Simon Kernick and I all commiserated with each other, although Ken had just deservedly picked up a Macavity for The Killing of the Tinkers, so he had that to soften the blow ;-) Barry Eisler won his Barry category for Rain Storm. I tried to slide off with his award when I saw him later in the bar, but sadly he spotted it.
Friday started early and finished late. I had a radio interview on the Frank Truatt Show at 7.05am. Frank was absolutely charming and very knowledgeable. He even prompted me to get the website name in there.
My first panel of the day was at 9am with the delightful Meg Chittenden, a not-to-be-taken-too-seriously beginners' guide to self-defence which we entitled You Can't Run in High Heels. After seeing everyone still in the bar until the wee small hours the night before, I wasn't expecting a big turnout but it was standing room only at the back. Ah, the benefits of being given a small room! It seemed to go down very well and we even had a volunteer from the audience in the shape of Fred Rea, aka The Gun Guy. I foolishly asked Fred if he had a knife to demonstrate one defensive move and realised afterwards he probably had several about his person . . .
Spent the day dipping in to panels, trying to snatch a little here and there, had lunch with Sisters in Crime at the top of the Hancock Tower, the restaurant on the 95th floor − so high you can clearly see the curvature of the earth across Lake Michigan.
Later, to the St Martin's party where I caught up with Julia Spencer-Fleming, as well as Terri, Linda (and three-month-old Noah) from Booked For Murder in Madison, and McKenna Jordan and David Thompson from Murder By The Book in Houston. I'll be going to both stores on the tour so it was great to meet them beforehand. Then on to a highly entertaining dinner with my agent, Jane Gregory; Maggie Topkis, from Partners & Crime in New York; Diamond Dagger winner Robert Barnard; and Selina Walker from Transworld, at a fabulous seafood restaurant, Catch 35, on the equally fabulously named street, West Wacker.
Lee Child, who'd picked up a Barry for Best Novel for The Enemy, threw a late party at Lizzie McNeill's Irish bar next to the hotel, where Judy Bobalik and I spent most of what remained of the evening gently winding up Mystery News and Deadly Pleasures reviewer Ted Hertel Jr. He's also a lawyer, so it was doubly fun. We tottered back to the hotel around midnight − me proving that I really cannot run in high heels. Heck, by that time I could barely walk in them . . .
Friday, September 2 2005, Bouchercon Mystery Writers' Convention, Chicago
Yesterday was a whirl. Had the launch party for First Drop at the Crimespree party and everyone was very enthusiastic about the book.
Judy Bobalik had asked for a blow-up of the picture on the title page of my website because, she said, it really says 'this woman writes kick-ass thrillers'. I took her a poster-size print on the understanding she didn't throw darts at it. The photo lab printed out two, so I gave the other to Jon Jordan at Crimespree who was showing it to everyone. If I'd printed out more I could have sold them all. Lee Child told me I definitely needed to use that as my author picture on the books.
Didn't get to very many panels yesterday, but did manage to see the one on poetry with Reed Farrel Coleman and Ken Bruen. Met Ken for the first time afterwards at the Crimespree party. What a nice guy. We're up for the same Barry award.
Walked out for dinner at a tapas bar with Jason Starr, Michele Martinez and Con Lehane. It was a few blocks from the hotel but there seemed to be writing or publishing people at every table. I think we've taken over the whole town.
It's 6.20am now, and I have a radio interview to do over the phone in half an hour or so, then I'm doing my panel on self-defence with Meg Chittenden at 9am. Judging by the partying going on last night I'm not sure how many people will make it down to that. Good job I'm still running on UK time!
Thursday, September 1 2005, Chicago
Wednesday, we spend the day driving round Chicago in a truck. Or at least it feels that way. Judy's sister has lent us a Yukon SUV that seats seven so Judy can do the airport taxi thing. First to Midway so we can collect Reed Farrel Coleman, looking very dapper in a brown suede coat. Then to O'Hare to pick up Meg Chittenden − with whom I'm doing my self-defence demo You Can't Run in High Heels on Friday morning − as well as SJ Rozan, James O Born and Fred Rea. Traffic's a nightmare but the company's so good we don't care. And the Chicago skyline is stunning, by turns sprawling, gothic and ultra-modern against the fabulous backdrop of Lake Michigan.
Later, Fred, Judy, Andy and I go out for dinner with another writer, Christine Kling, who's just bought a live-aboard boat in Florida. She tells us her maiden voyage will be down to Key West. I instantly offer to crew for her. We eat outside on Navy Pier and afterwards are treated to the Wednesday night fireworks display. Wow, did they lay that on just for us . . . ?
Back at the hotel we graduate into the bar − we are writers, after all. I can't believe the reactions I'm getting to First Drop. It started when we were standing in line to check in. Mystery and factual author, Dr Doug (DP) Lyle, who was kind enough to let me pick his brains at Left Coast Crime this year on medical info, comes right up and says, 'Hey, Zoë, I've always wanted to hug someone with a red-star review.' Mike from Mystery Mike's bookstore greets me with, 'Are you the Zoë Sharp?' My response: 'You mean there could be two of us?'
Everyone is predicting good things. I'm overwhelmed but, oh boy, I hope so!
Monday, August 29 2005, Chicago
Greetings from Chicago, where I am attending the Bouchercon Mystery Writers Convention at the start of my US tour.
No, I do not have a communicable disease, physical or mental disorder, nor am I a drug abuser or addict. I have never been arrested or convicted for an offence or crime involving moral turpitude, been a controlled substance trafficker, nor am I seeking to engage in criminal or immoral activities. I have never been involved in espionage, terrorist activities or genocide and I have no links with Nazi Germany or its allies.
If I'm having to answer questions like this − truthfully, and not in connection with writing crime fiction − it must be the Visa Waiver form for entering the USA. Bouchercon time again.
It's a long flight from Manchester to Chicago, particularly when you go via Atlanta. If you fly Delta and someone tells you to go to Hell, you'd have to go via Atlanta. Hot and humid when we get off the plane. Everyone's glued to the airport news channels watching the terrible devastation caused by Hurricane Katrina. All we got was turbulence on the way in.
After a frantic half-hour during which we realise that among the things we've forgotten is the cellphone number of our friend, Judy Bobalik, who's coming to meet us, she arrives, all smiles and hugs, and our US trip has really begun. Judy's also collecting a whole chapter of other mystery writers who are flying in at various times tomorrow, so we'll be meeting up with many friends before the convention even starts.
We talk round Judy's kitchen table until we can't keep our eyes open any longer, then realise we've been on the road for twenty-three hours straight. It's probably good training for the weeks to come . . .
Zoë Sharp