I’m camping this week, so this will be short. The fire might go out at any minute.
If all has gone well, I’m at the Hyatt in San Francisco. I call it camping, because I won’t have all my shoes with me and room service might be slow since the hotel is full.
I’m not much for outdoors, where bugs and birds live and poop. When I’m away from home, I want a better environment, with more comfort, not less. More pillows, for sure. When closer to nature means farther from my shower and panini maker, fuhgeddaboudit.
About 1300 mystery writers and readers are here for the world mystery conference, Bouchercon.
Bouchercon has what you’d expect at any conference, with body outlines here and there, crime scene tape to mark off the bar, and blood spatter along the hallways.
I’ll be on a panel, participating in a continuous conversation between authors and fans, and keeping track of goings on in the Crafts Room, where crafts authors (like my Margaret Grace persona) will demonstrate and lead attendees in a make-and-take while talking about their books. There are parties, booksellers, and, best of all, friends from every corner of the mystery world.
If you’re reading this from another room at the conference, say hello!
The Real Me will be back next week with another installment of Breaking the Habit, part 2 of life after cloister.