Greetings after a sweltering, fun-filled, relaxing time at ThrillerFest. Having just walked in the door I’m a mixture of exhaustion and second-wind energy, which means – as always of late – the report will be delivered bulletpoint style. And posting will be of the catch-up variety (read: slow) until after the 4th of July Holiday.
First comment made upon seeing Phoenix in the flesh: “Wow, it’s just like New Jersey, but with palm trees.”
The Killer Year t-shirts and hats are way cool. And a must-get. And all the members in attendance are so damn nice.
The rose quartz body wrap was so, so worth it. But a pity I didn’t get a chance to go swimming.
R.L. Stine is a phenomenal interview. Funny, sharp and measured, he had the crowd in his hand from the getgo.
You know, THRILLER’s Bookscan numbers were never higher than after Maslin’s review in the New York Times.
Expect CHILFS dot com to be reserved, pronto.
Firing a gun is a very surreal, very strange thing. Glad I did it (.357 Magnum and 9 mm, in case you were wondering) but the asshole who insisted on shooting his entire wad of Uzi bullets did not help in calming down a very nervous girl.
The Jack Reacher trial ended in a “well-hung” jury. But that wasn’t as funny as Paul Levine’s inadvertent question to Jim Born on the stand, which made the entire room break up.
The problem with being on the jury was that I wanted to go to the sex & booze panel with Barry Eisler, John Lescroart, Steve Berry & M.J. Rose, where the laughs came (ah, yeah) about every minute.
Legends Books has a lot of awesome UK first editions.
It was so great to finally meet Robert Ferrigno! Who should stop worrying, btw, that he’s not photogenic.
Not sure who took more pictures: Mary Reagan or Robert Gregory Browne. Not that it’s a contest or anything…
I feel like I spent less time running around, and yet more time having quality conversations with people. It was really quite cool.
Gregg Hurwitz, Christopher Rice and Chris Mooney: the Ambiguously Gay Trio.
Harry Hunsicker is a saint (and a welcome chauffeur.)
Happy anniversary, Zoe & Andy!
I seriously can’t wait for Damian Thompson’s Daily Telegraph piece (because it makes so much more sense that the Brits feel this is an important feature while US papers look the other way. Bet it changes next year, though.)
The Thrillerettes (or Killerettes, depending on who you talk to) may be taking their act on the road – or at least, to future ThrillerFests.
I made a bet with someone that the awards ceremony would end at 11. I wasn’t off by much.
Keith Kahla has a natural ability to hold court outside the bar.
Continental sucks. They pack everyone in like sardines. So why the hell do I keep flying with them?
I can’t wait for next year in NYC (contracts permitting.)