On the run (but not the lam)

By Gayle Carline
Mystery Author and Faux-Maven

For those of you who don't know, maven is a Yiddish word meaning "expert," although my Jewish friends usually wink and tell me it means "know-it-all."

Tomorrow I'm heading down to San Diego to teach at a writer's conference. I used to attend this conference, along with its sister conference in Newport Beach every year. Then a year ago, I was asked to become one of the workshop leaders.

Moi? Teach people about writing? That first year, I was insanely nervous. What do I have to say to anyone about a process that I still feel I'm learning about? I'm happy to report that I did my homework and presented useful information, at least according to the full classrooms and happy people who had kind words for what I put together for them.

These days, I dream up workshop ideas and pass them on to the director, who picks and chooses one or two. For this conference, I'm resurrecting a workshop I did last year, plus adding a new workshop that should be fun. 

The resurrected workshop is on Self-Publishing Savvy. Basically, I do an overview of the author-publisher process and the mindset it requires. My intent with this workshop is for people who think they might want to self-publish but aren't certain. I try not to sugarcoat anything, or scare them away. Hopefully, I just give them the tools to make an informed choice.

The new workshop is called Storytelling is Murder, She Wrote. It's going to be a participation workshop, where I show an episode of a TV mystery and we dissect it, to see what makes it work and what we can apply as writers. I know what you're all thinking, but I'm not going to use that TV show. I'm using an episode of Poirot, for a few reasons. One is that Agatha Christie is a gold standard in mysteries. Another is that the PBS production of Poirot lends itself to a discussion of branding beyond just the storyline. It's a 50-minute show and we have 90 minutes to talk about it. I hope we can get it all done.

One of the things I really like about these conferences is that they offer a little something for everyone in their 90-minute workshops. You can learn about the craft of writing, either fiction or non-fiction. You can get ideas for the business side, from writing a good pitch, to how to find an agent, to what self-publishing looks like. As far as industry professionals, the conference directors try very hard to make certain that the agents and publishers are reputable AND are actively seeking clients.  

In the meantime, if you'll excuse me, I need to review my notes and make certain I'm prepared for the weekend. Oh, yeah - and I have to pack!

Sometimes I don't know what I know

"Dino Cubed" was the inspiration for this.

By Gayle Carline
Mystery Author, Humor Columnist

In September 2006, I attended my first Southern California Writer’s Conference, in Palm Springs. I met a lot of people, had a great time, and even won their Topic Contest with my 250-word entry, “Dino Cubed.” I hadn’t written more than magazine articles and newspaper essays at this point, but I felt encouraged to try writing a novel. I decided I would go to their conference again next September.

Me and Gordon.

SCWC holds two conferences a year, one in September, and one in February in San Diego. I thought it would be terribly self-indulgent to go to the February one. Then I saw that Gordon Kirkland was going to be there. He is a humor essayist and I wanted to meet him.

This became my pattern. I’d tell myself I’m only going to one, then I’d read of someone I wanted to meet at the next one, and I’d go to that one, too. By the by, I always did meet the someone, who usually turned into a friend and/or mentor (e.g Michele Scott), plus I came out of the conference fired up about my next project.

Fast forward to the last conference, in Irvine. All weekend, the director, Michael Steven Gregory, kept telling me he wanted to discuss something with me. Then he’d be pulled away to figure out how to fix the air conditioning or find the right cord for the power supply or break up a paperclip fight between an author and their agent, etc. Finally, after the conference, he emailed me.

Would I like to be a workshop leader at the conferences?

I know... um... how to...

My first thought was "YES!" because I have a hard time saying no to anything. My second thought was, what the hell do I know about anything? I’m just a writer. Granted, I’ve been writing all my life, but I didn’t start writing for publication until I was in my 40s. I only have 3 mysteries, 2 humor books, and a short story for sale.

I’m no expert!

Nevertheless, I told Michael I would, and sat down to write out what I could talk about. What do I know about anything? Well...

- I know what’s hard and what’s easy about self-publishing and how to shoot yourself in the foot.
- I know how to tell when your writing is boring and what to do to un-bore it.
- I can read (or listen to) others’ writings and tell them why I’m drawn into their story and when they lose me.
- I can tell you why dying is easy and comedy is hard.

With that, I am teaching two workshops at the February San Diego SCWC. I’ve already put together one 90-minute lesson plan, and will be putting the other together the other one soon. I’ll also be leading a read and critique group at some point, where writers are encouraged to read and receive helpful comments (note: meanness is not allowed).

Do you ever feel like you are so deep in the trenches of what you do that you don’t feel like you know what you do? Or could you teach a class on some aspect of your life?

Bouchercon 2012

by L.J. Sellers, author of provocative mysteries & thrillers  
Bouchercon was terrific for me this year. I finally felt like a real author with a wide reader base and respect from other authors, even though the conference programmer didn’t offer me a panel until I politely pointed out that I met all the criteria. But in the long run, it didn’t matter.

My highlight this year was having dinner with the Thomas & Mercer team and getting to know Andrew Bartlett, the acquisitions editor. At that dinner, I also met Blake Crouch, Sean Chercover, and Dana Cameron, and walked back in the rain with with Tom Shreck, whom I’ve known since we were both with the same small press. (Blake and Tom are in a lower photo.)

But let me back up. I started Friday with a Sisters in Crime breakfast, complete with singing a chorus of “You show me your gun, I’ll show you mine.” Then I attended a panel called Old Friends, New Friends, nicely moderated by Jen Forbus, followed by Eve of Destruction—with authors Sophie Littlefield, Deborah Coonts, Tracy Kiely, and Rochelle Staab—who talked about their kickass female characters.

I spent a lot of time with Rochelle, who I’d Skyped with earlier in the year for a Big Thrill feature. She’s just as dynamic in person. (Bottom photo in gorgeous red leather.) A little later I met up with longtime online friend Debbi Mack for the first time—lovely woman—and had lunch with her and fellow panelist, Conda Douglas, and new author friend, Molly Cox Bryan. Friday afternoon, I attended Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus, a terrific panel where they talked about writing from the opposite gender’s perspective. The room was packed to see Elizabeth George, Val McDemid, Alan Jacobson, Tom Shreck, and another friend, Alexandra Sokoloff. The moderator, Daniel Palmer did a great job of keeping it lively.

Saturday was a day of conversations. I chatted with readers and authors all day—including Zoe Sharp, Julie Hyzy, Claudia Whitsitt, and Annette Dashofy —and had lunch with my terrific roommate and author Terry Shames (top photo), along with Keith Raffel, Boyd Morison (and his wife Randi) Tracy Kiely, and another delightful author whose name escapes me. By that point, I’d met and chatted with so many people, it was hard to mentally keep everyone straight. We talked shop, but also veered off into other stimulating subjects.

Still, that evening at the awards ceremony, I met more authors for the first time. Edgar nominee Darrell James was charming, and so was Kathy Wiley and new author Anne Cleeland. I went to dinner with Darrell James and a female author named Darrell who writes under the name Avery Aames, as well as Rochelle, Terry, Dana Cameron, Roberta Isleb, and another woman I should remember. I also chatted with numerous authors in the bar that evening, staying up late to connect with as many people as possible.

That’s the problem with blogs like this. I can’t possibly mention everyone I talked even if I could remember all their names. So if I left you out, please don’t be offended, and feel free to comment and remind me! And I have to mention that I chatted with Stan and Lucinda Surber who talked me into being a chair for Left Coast Crime 2015 in Portland. It'll be fantastic, so put it on your calendar.

The best panel I attended was on Sunday morning and called Red Herrings. Moderator Keith Raffel (a great guy!) was sharp and funny, despite a late night in the lounge, and the panelists—Beth Groundwater, Pennie Ross, D.M. Pirrone, and Melodie Campbell—all kept up with him.

Afterward while waiting to leave, I chatted with agent Janet Reid, who did her best to convince me that personal one-to-one emails are worthwhile, even with a thousand-name email list, and I know in my heart she's right, even though the task would be overwhelming.

And I shared a cab to the airport with Gigi Pandian, an delightful author I shared a shuttle with at B-con 2010. We both seem to fly home to the west coast at the same time I also talked with people on all of my flights coming and going, two of whom have already emailed me, hoping to stay in touch. I wish I had total recall for all the wonderful people I’ve met.

If you attended B-con, please share one of your moments.

Are you a conferee, a conventioneer, or a little bit of both?

By Gayle Carline

On Monday, Jodie Renner gave us a wonderfully organized list of writers’conferences and conventions, and in the comments, Jeri Westerson pointed out there is a difference between the two.

As well I know, having been to both.

Writers’ conferences are for writers, and by writers, I mean anyone who might even be thinking of writing but is not certain if they are ready to sit in front of a blank screen or sheet of paper and open a vein. All genres are welcomed, discussed, deconstructed and built anew. The nuts and bolts of the writing business are presented, from the craft of writing to the logistics of business. The rooms have tables with their chairs, so you can take notes comfortably.

At least, a good conference should do this. If every evening ends at the bar, telling jokes, swapping bad publishing stories, and juggling swords, well, that’s a bonus. And if there is an impromptu field trip to a porn store, you’re looking at a trifecta.

My first writers’ conference was in Palm Springs and it’s where I got the idea for Freezer Burn. Subsequent conferences taught me how to write a damn good book, how to find a publisher, and ultimately how to publish and promote my damn good books by myself.

Conventions, on the other hand, are where authors meet their readers, both old and new. They are, as a rule, genre-specific. There are several mystery/thriller conventions, from Bouchercon to Love is Murder to Left Coast Crime and beyond. Romance authors have their soirees, as well as sci-fi/fantasy, and I’m guessing YA and/or children’s books.

Conventions are about panels. The chairs are set up in rows and there are no tables, so the taking of notes, while not discouraged, is not expected. There will be no exam later. Four or five authors sit at a table and a moderator asks them questions for most of the 45 minutes, leaving about ten minutes for questions from the audience.

I’m pretty sure this is to keep the audience from telling long-winded tales of their own that don’t really have a question attached. Sometimes it works.

A convention also has an entire room full of booksellers, so if you have never read an author, but see her* on the panel and decide to check out her books, you can buy one and hunt her down for an autograph. (*Or him, but I really like it when it happens to me.)

A really good convention begins with a continental breakfast and ends at the bar, telling jokes and swapping bad publishing stories. (There might be sword juggling, but I’ve never witnessed this.) And even though I’ve been to two conventions and have yet to go on a field trip, it would not be out of the realm of possibility.

This is when it would suck to write literary fiction. No convention, no drinks with people who love your work despite the fact you’re a jackass, and no field trips.

At my first convention, which was Bouchercon, I spent one evening sitting at a table, watching a steady stream of authors and their friends come and go like a tide. LJ Sellers and CJ West sat down. Gary Phillips arrived and LJ left. CJ left and someone else arrived. It was like an entire night of cameo appearances. The high point was when Lee Child sat down next to me. He was so darned sweet and gracious, you wanted to take him home to meet your mother, just to prove to her that you knew someone with a lick of manners.

At my second convention, Left Coast Crime, I didn’t meet Lee Child, although I did get to schmooze with Gary Phillips and LJ and a bunch of fun-fun authors. But the best was Sunday morning, when I was waiting for a seat in the uber-crowded café and a group of readers waved me over to sit with them. Three women who didn’t know me from Adam/Eve and had never read my books, asked me tons of questions, requested my card and bookmarks, and made me feel like an Author. I was as tickled to be with them as they were with me — how cool is that?

Obviously, I find something in both kinds of gatherings that feeds my creative soul. Now that I have described them both to you, which ones do you like to (or wish to) attend, and why?