I’m a conference junky. That’s where my people are. That’s where my brain gets refreshed, where I get sparked with new ideas, find out the state of the publishing industry, see old friends and new authors, find out the latest gossip. It’s life blood.
It’s hard to believe my first Bouchercon was the year of the first meeting to introduce the idea of Sisters in Crime. I was a wannabe crime writer and was urged to go by published friends who said I could learn a lot. And I probably did, although I can’t remember much about it—that was 37 years ago, folks! Since then, I’ve rarely missed Bouchercon.
This year I missed it, though, because I decided to go to Thrillerfest instead. Both conferences require spending some funds and some time, and I couldn’t do both. I had not been to Thrillerfest in several years, so I decide it was time to check in on it again. Let’s just say that I’ll be going back to Bouchercon next year. Why? Several reasons, which have to do with me rather than the conference. I went because I had begun publishing a new thriller series, The Jessie Madison series. But it’s more of an adventure/thriller series, and I rediscovered the idea that many Thrillerfest attendees write “hard core” thrillers. Thrillers about tough men (and sometimes tough women). And they are written by men. As one fellow-participant said, “There was a lot of testosterone in the room.”
I’ve rarely had “bad” experiences at conferences. The worst thing that happens at every, single one is that I run out of time and energy. There are too many panels to choose from, too many people to catch up with, and too many ideas to kick around. I’ve finally learned to plan in advance, booking a lunch or dinner with people I absolutely have to see. But then I also run into people I didn’t know would be there or decide I really want to hear more about something I heard at a panel, which means stuffing one more event into the panoply of events.
The one conference I absolutely will not miss is Left Coast Crime. It’s smaller (if you can call 800 people small), and more intimate. And it’s usually on the west coast, so easier for me to get to. The team that puts together LCC does a sterling job and every year I come away delighted that I went.
One of the things I love about conferences in general is the surprises. There’s the panel that rises above the usual chatter and becomes a real learning experience. Or the encounter with an author that suddenly turns into a serious conversation about some aspect of writing. The new person you meet who is your “person.” (I’m thinking of Janet Oakley here, whom I met at Left Coast Crime this year. If we lived close to each other, we’d have coffee at least once a week.) This year a wonderful surprise was the author who features perfumes in her mysteries, and she remembered that I had lost my favorite perfume in my move to LA, only to find that it was no longer being made—and she found an almost-full bottle and brought it to me. There’s always unexpected laughter, too. And finding new authors (love the new author breakfasts). As for post-conference blahs, not really.
By the time the weekend is over, I’m usually exhausted, physically and mentally, and I almost always need a day to catch my breath when I get home, but then I a day or so later I’m brimming with energy and want to get started on whatever hits my brain.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Questions for the Criminal Minds? Comments? Let us know!