Bouchercon roundup, part II: things learned, seen or done

Like Jim, I learned a hell of a lot at this year’s convention, and besides, it’s so much easier to do a bulletpoint listing instead of a long-winded report (aside from the fact that I may have to save a lot of the good stuff for a later date in a different venue.) And so, here goes:

It is entirely possible to spend an entire Bouchercon and never drink in the official bar. Of course, the only time I was in the vicinity, Michael Connelly was being interviewed and no one was allowed in, but there you go.

It is also entirely possible–and a very good thing–to leave the Convention Centre/Intercontinental premises and take a walk elsewhere. Front Street East and the Harbourfront were welcome respites from the madness of it all.

You can truly go from cocktail party to cocktail party and cobble together an entire dinner out of a wide variety of cheeses. Which pretty much explains how I forgot to eat dinner on Friday night.

The Lone Star is an incredibly popular place, especially on a Saturday night when everyone’s in a serious mood to party. And where the drinks are half the price of the ones offered at the hotel bars.

Buying Otto Penzler a drink is the new black.

Pat Lambe has a little bit of Ken Bruen in him.

Speaking of Bruen, several people now believe he may, quite possibly, be a vampire. Has he ever been sighted in full outside daylight? Never mind what the potential effects of garlic could be.

I’d never seen this in evidence before, but there always is a Convention Asshole. And of course, said person never realizes that he or she is the designated Asshole, either.

It must be said that it’s very cool to hang out with people around your own age. Surely, there must be more out there…

The noisy auction might have worked a bit better if the sound system had been functioning properly. Or if the bids had been properly introduced so certain items weren’t ridiculously undersold. In what was otherwise an incredibly run, extremely organized and friendly convention, this was the only real sore spot.

The 2004 Anthony Awards: the Edgars on Acid. For so, so many reasons. Like the fact that Peter Robinson is actually Natasha Cooper’s “fellow Yorkshire woman,” (followed by being asked by her to “do his business”) the younger half of PJ Tracy’s “big smooch to her editor,” while Gary Niebuhr was very fortunate to be standing behind a podium. Also, I do believe the vegetarian option (well, the real version, not the “we’re sorry, we’re out and you’re only getting overcooked carrots and potatoes” version) was left over from the last time Toronto hosted Bouchercon–in 1992. And then, just when you think it can’t get worse, along comes dessert. Pictures will be available eventually.

Having said that, seeing the look on Laura Lippman’s face immediately after winning for Best Novel (and remaining essentially the same a few hours later in the bar) was a real highlight for the entire banquet crowd.

There are always people you really wanted to meet that somehow, you never have a chance to run into (Robert Ferrigno, that means you.) By the same token, there are people you didn’t expect to meet and have some wonderful conversations with, like Deon Meyer, who had some great things to say about being a fluent English speaker and actually understanding the gist of his translation from his original Afrikaans.

Best conversation at the convention took place early on Friday morning where a bunch of us, including Jim, Brian Thornton and Steve Hockensmith, talked baseball nonstop for a good hour. Or maybe I just dug it because it had nothing whatsoever to do with books.

Jason Starr: this year’s Buzz Author. Crime Spree: this year’s Buzz publication. And I’m not saying that just because I have a short story in their brand new issue (although speaking of, it seems it’s even more accurate, in some ways, than I originally believed.)

Sara Paretsky won over a lot of people after her Saturday afternoon panel (which was well moderated by Jon Jordan after a spot of nerves at the start. But as soon as he made a Batman reference, everyone relaxed.)

Some people are really into the whole video golf thing. I, however, probably need some kind of explanation of the phenomenon.

Although I had hoped he’d do something more along the lines of his Comedy Store MC routine (alas, not appropriate for a 2 PM time), Mark Billingham knows how to keep a crowd laughing nonstop.

People are really, really obsessed with my hair. But what can I say, I decided it was time to stop looking like a boy and grow it out, and so it shall stay.

And finally, moderating a panel is one of the most nervewracking experiences I have ever had the pleasure to experience. Would I do it again? Hell if I know, but I’ll try not to stare at the ceiling all the way through, a vestigial habit from the long-ago days when I was a Kiwanis music festival rat.

Overall: an absolute blast. But for those who were there, what did you think? That’s what the backblogs are for…