Myopes at Bouncercon

"Myope" must be a real word, but I don't have my OED with me so I can't look it up. It was used the other night at dinner by Catherine Manning, better known to her reading public as Elizabeth Ironside, to describe herself; her vision, actually. While we may have had to fight a revolution against them, and their lawyers do look ridiculous in those filthy wigs and robes, and I must admit to cringing when confronted with all the lord and lady stuff, and the Windsors? well, enough said. The English did, after all, invent English, something for which I am deeply indebted to them. And a word as fine as "myope"? Sometimes you just have to give it to them.

Lady Catherine - I'm poking a little fun at her here because although she is apparently entitled to the honorific, it might embarrass her were I to use it - and her husband Sir David, the U.K. ambassador to the U.S. (who I think would have laughed me away from the dinner table had I called him by his title) were at Bouchercon in Madison, Wisconsin to help promote her books. The titles, previously out of print in the U.S. are being reissued by Felony & Mayhem Press, which is owned by my pal Maggie Topkis - also one of the owners of Partners & Crime bookstore in New York City.

This is all by way of saying that I had a grand time at a very small dinner party - five of us in total - with the Ambassador and his Lady - Catherine and David - who seem to embody just what you would want from diplomats. They were friendly, warm, easy going, smart, funny, well read, well travelled and well informed. The sort of folk anyone in their right mind would want to be friends with. I was very impressed when David told us about how he had gone to Dodge City, Kansas not long after being sent to Washington D.C. to become what is almost certainly Great Britain's most important ambassador. He wanted to get a sense of America away from the big, sophisticated cities. He picked Dodge because he had watched Gunsmoke many years ago and it was around the agricultural center of the country. He spent three days there, talking to everybody he could about whatever he could. He returned surprised, a bit horrified by some of what he came across and heartened by some other of what he encountered.

Perhaps it's the difference between the foreign (diplomatic) service and politicians, but somehow it gave me a vague sense of optimism that there might yet be hope for the world.

Bouchercon, the annual mystery writers and readers convention, struck me as a bit of a mess initially. No one seemed to have the slightest idea of what, where or when things were happening. There was a terrible, near-financially ruinous screwup with Maggie's new book by "Elizabeth Ironside". I was grumpy about the panel I was scheduled to be on. Overall, the early stages put me in a grumpy mood.

But then things turned around. They sorted themselves out. In large part due to the tireless efforts of Jodi and Kate - two of the organizers. Events happened as they were supposed to. People milled about and chatted each other up. Contacts were made. Books were sold and signed. People had fun in the bars. (We're writers, we drink, or we're sober drunks. It seems to be an occupational hazard.) I was almost constantly busy, on my feet a good 14 to 16 hours or more a day and found the whole thing enjoyable and useful.

It helped that this was my third one. The first one I almost swore I'd never come back. I didn't know anybody. I didn't have a book out yet. I moped in corners. This time I can't even keep track of all the people I know from previous years. It's like trying to walk down the street in Chicago with my sister Nancy - the world's most gregarious and friendly human being - it takes forever to make a block because she has to stop and chat with nearly everyone we come across.

Anyhow, it was great, just what I wanted from a conference. And on Sunday I got in the car and headed south, then west for home.

Before all that, Chicago, Barbara's Books in Oak Park was the last gasp of the Disoriented Express. It was a disappointingly small crowd, but a nice enough one as they always seem to be. I have yet to have a heckler. I'm looking forward to one eventually though. The bookstore people and the attendees seemed to enjoy the show. We had six total, not counting the bookstore employees, but counting my sister. I'd estimate them at a reasonable 1,005 lbs. That brings the tour total to a close at:

More than four tons of people, 8,915 lbs of readers (excluding bookshop employees) viewed the DisOriented Express!

From Chicago we took the back route up to Madison, along small, beautiful Wisconsin country roads, pausing to take photos along the way. What we were photographing was Colin's Dilys award: with a fish shaped mailbox, a red, white and blue cow for Bush - Cheney 2004, a refrigerator compartment of cheese, the Welcome to Madison sign and other things. Fun was had. We showed the entire slide show of our silly Dilys photos to a group of people who'd come to hear Colin at a luncheon and we had them rolling in the aisles. (The Dilys is awarded by the Independent Mystery Booksellers Association to the author of the book they most enjoyed selling during the year.) Here's some pictures we took all along the way:





Driving across country, I was once again happy to be reminded of what a remarkably diverse and beautiful country this is. There are few places on the planet that offer as many different types of terrain, flora and fauna and in the Fall the color palette is just about overwhelming. That and despite all the carryings on about how America is becoming such an intolerant, fundamentalist Christian place, I encountered a whole lot less evidence of that (although I did come across some) than I did of the basic friendly, tolerant, good nature of most of my fellow Americans. I think if everyone in the country could drive across it once every ten years or so, and talk to a lot of the sort of folk that they don't usually talk with at home, there might be a lot fewer misunderstandings and fear of each other.

Does that sound Pollyanna-ish? Did Pollyanna ever drive 926 miles - North Platte, Nebraska to Mesquite, Nevada - in one day?

If The Wasen??

If I were in Stuttgart for just one more day this weekend, and if I had the time to go to just one place, and if that place finishes up at 11pm and there's an aftercap somewhere else... well where would that be? Well if you can figure out where these are from then you might see me there ;-)

If I went to a parade would this be what it looked like?



If you consume lots of beers (lots-lots!) then this is what the room end up looking like ;-)



If I wanted to give a clue to the party-house, would this be a good indicator? ;-)



If you've got to go to the beach, it might as well be in the sky!



If the sun came out, and if the beers were cold, and if there was a beach party going on, I wonder if this is what it would look like:



But what if you wanted to take a break and enjoy the sun and company?



Or what if you stayed around for the fireworks?



I wonder what if...

;-)

Day Day Going Around

It's been a busy, busy couple of days! I guess it hasn't really been a bad day, but as compared to Wednesday (Toronto for CASE Camp which was great, scoring $20 Sens-Leafs tickets, hitting Toronto hard until 3am, etc.) it certainly could have improved. Well it's about to... I've got opening night tickets to the 67's game: sweet!

I guess a busy day or two certainly helps you appreciate the good days just a little bit more... I can certainly think of some people who had some worst times!

Tally-Ho!

Today I was less than 5 meters away from a deer and didn't even know it. I was treking through the Bruce Trail in the forest with my mp3 player going when suddenly I noticed some movement right in front of me:



This pic was after it had moved a bit into the brush while I got my camera out. There was like 5 of them around when I looked up!

Oktoberfest Lamer

Ok lads, great game! Let's hit the Oktoberfest! Follow me... no, not you Pissarro. Retard.

Walking To Infinity

Last night I went for a walk and got lost in my thoughts... 6 hours later the sun came up and I turned back to go home. I think I walked to the edge of infinity...

Home Sweat Canada

As I'm writing all these posts about how great my last trip to France/Sicily was as well as looking back at all the travels I've been beyond lucky to be able to experience, I came across a pic that just made me remember something I heard once: sometimes you have to travel around the world to appreciate just how lucky we are at home :-) :-)



More Sicily pics tomorrow, I'm off for a jaunt by the bay...

Lipari

With a fun filled memory and a tear in my eye it was time to check out some of the other Aeolian islands (I did eventually have to return to work after all!). Lipari is the biggest of all the islands, the easiest to access from the other islands and Sicily itself... but it's also the least interesting (from a hiking and isolation standpoint) and most overrun with tourists and development.

Lipari would be a nice return to civilization, fine cuisine and fun before heading out to Salina (another island) the next day. They also had a great "mini-theatre" very similar to the one in Taormina (although much, much smaller):



Being a little too big (and developed with highway roads) to hike all the way around the island I decided that I would rent one of those scooters you see for hire everywhere to check out the island. Well scooters are for wussies, so I got the 4X4 and ripped up the roads lapping the island 3 times :-)



It was desitnation Salina with their spring water Malvasian wine the next day...

The World's Largest Prarie Dog

wasn't all that impressive. It was made of chipped concrete and looked like an ill-informed attempt at an art deco prarie dog. The real prarie dogs, that kept popping out of their holes all around us, were much better looking although not nearly so cooperative for photographs. The highlights of Prarie Dog Town, somewhere near Hays, Kansas, were the snakepit - 55 to 60 rattlers that the guy who ran the place startled into rattling for us - and the postcard selection, which was the usual middle of nowhere traditional fare: jackalopes, cowboys herding cattle while riding enormous rabbits, oversized trout and corn and a very fine selection of monstrous prarie dogs. Once I get to my own computer and a scanner, I can post some of the photographic evidence.

The drive, as it always is across the Great Plains, was all about weather. Most people hate driving across the middle of the country because they seem to think it's featureless. I guess they're looking for mountains, or big lakes, or forests or cities or something - so of course they're disappointed. What they fail to take account of is that the weather is the primary geographic feature of the Great Plains. The roiling clouds, the puffy big clouds, the huge expanse of blue sky, lightning, thunder, rain, hail - all of it is every bit as much a part of the terrain as any mountain or river or lake ever is. I love driving through eastern Colorado, Kansas and Missouri. To me it seems as if I'm driving through a landscape that is in constant turmoil, that is undergoing far more change far more rapidly than almost any other I can think of.

We stopped for the night in Salina where I took Colin to the Vientiane Market - a small but surprisingly well stocked Lao-Thai market just about where you'd least expect one. The woman who ran it was Lao - not Hmong - which was unexpected as most of the people from Laos who have come to the U.S. are Hmong - they often fought with the U.S. side during the war, so they got out quick when the other side won. She said that they got customers from all over the area - pretty much any Asian family that needs groceries in Kansas or Western Missouri shows up there from time to time. Other than that, there wasn't much going on in Salina.

Heading east, we stopped in Abilene for breakfast. It was at the northern end of the Chisholm cattle drive trail and I figured it would be a well preserved wild west town. It isn't, not much at least. It's sort of a well preserved 1910 to 1935 town with a whole lot of Dwight David Eisenhower stuff there, since he was from there. Colin attempted to eat a healthy breakfast at the diner we found there - HAH! I know better and opted for eggs and biscuits with gravy. They did, oddly enough, have a bottle of Thai Sriracha hot sauce. They must have got it from the market in Salina. It doesn't really go well with eggs and hash browns, but I felt obligated to drench everything with it on general principle. We also dropped by the most modern, impressive, and largest if you don't count the grain silos, building in town: the Greyhound Hall of Fame. It wasn't open yet so we didn't go in.

We stopped in Mission, Kansas to visit I Love A Mystery bookstore. It has recently moved into new digs and is one of the biggest, most comfortable, really pleasant specialty bookshops either of us have ever been in. They were very pleased to see us - especially Colin as he is one of their current big sellers and their reading groups have been consuming his books. But, they remembered my books from last year and might now order some more. We spent a while in there chatting with Karen, the owner and the other people who work there. I highly recommend it if you are near Kansas City.

Afterwards we dropped by Rainy Day Books, the major independent general interest bookshop in town. It's also a grand place to meet and chat with people and get information on all sorts of things. I gossiped plenty about the book business with one of the managers. It's a nasty business, what more can one sayA?

Then it was off to the Negro Baseball Leagues Museum and Hall of Fame, which is conveniently located in the same building as the National Jazz Museum. I wish I'd had the time to go to both, as from what Colin tells me the jazz museum was excellent. But, I had my priorities, and communing with the spirits of Satchell Paige, Josh Gibson, Oscar Charleston, Buck Leonard and Cool Papa Bell, has long been high on the list. It's a very well done museum, an in depth look at black baseball from a social, cultural and historic perspective. I sat for a while in front of a film loop of the amazing feats of Willie Mays and reminisced with a guy who was maybe ten years older than me, about the times we'd seen Mays play - when I was a kid and he was a teenager.

I'd been looking forward to Stroud's Fried Chicken ("We Choke Our Own Chickens") for lunch, but they've closed down their funky old, roadhouse location and reopened in some distant neighborhood in what used to be a mansion. I was fearful of disappointment, so instead we walked down the block from the museum to the Peachtree soul food restaurant, where I had fried chicken that was nearly as good as Stroud's, along with utterly perfect collards and a dish of okra stewed with tomatoes. So lunch was not at all a disappointment.

Finally it was off to St. Louis where we were greeted by a blinding display of lightning that went off with near strobelight frequency as we drove into town. The rain, luckily was elsewhere. We arrived at Helen Simpson's big, beautiful rambling house near the big, beautiful rambling park in the center of the city. Visiting authors could hardly hope for nicer accomodations - our own guest rooms, comfortable beds, beer and wine in the refrigerator, a Cardinals game on TV and best of all Helen who is funny, smart, charming, welcoming and one of the best people anywhere to talk baseball, mystery books and politics with.

So a good time was had by all, although the turnout at the store was somewhat disappointing: as for strangers, there were three of them - two of them brought their kids so I don't know if I should count them or not; Susan McBride, a good friend, and a good local St. Louis writer, came along with her newish sweetie Ed - they've just bought a house together and seem near disgustingly happy. In any event, we had a nice time, although no one was going to have to call out the riot squad to beat back our legions of crazed fans. It was a mostly skinny crowd too, so it didn't do a whole lot for our pound counting, still, if I count the kids I can pretty safely estimate about 1,015 lbs. Bringing our event total thus far to: 7,910 lbs, just a runway model shy of four tons!

Helen was disappointed as we left after the event and headed north. We were determined to take the remnants of Highway 66 all the way from St. Louis to Chicago. Getting out of town on it proved a problem due to bridge construction, so we had to take the freeway far enough into Illinois to hook up with it later. The old highway is surprisingly well marked, with signs pointing the way to different segments from different decades. Unfortunately a lot of it is frontage road along Interstate 55, so it wasn't exactly as quaint and scenic as we had hoped. Although it did have moments when it veered into small farm towns along the way.

As we approached Springfield we started looking for a motel, hoping for an old-fashioned roadside courtyard place. But none were to be found. We drove into Springfield and still couldn't find any. We finally had to stop and ask at a cocktail lounge where they kept the motels. They were south of town on I-55 and that's where we ended up for the night, drinking too much and shooting bad pool (well, me, Colin was reasonably good) for a long while in a nearby collegiate sports bar that we'd walked to. College kids, even white ones, sure do listen to a lot of hip hop these days. I can't say that I've developed much of a taste for it myself.

We'd had a tough time getting our hotel rooms. They might have been the last two in the area, as the home of Abe Lincoln was hosting the annual Route 66 Car Show and the whole county was loud and proud with highly polished jalopies and classics. I guess no one ever simply trundled down 66 in a regular old car or a beater. The mystique has far outstripped the reality of the thing. I do wonder though, why there doesn't seem to be a highway that actually ran all the way from the East Coast to the West Coast that has the same sort of cache? Maybe it's the song. I was trying to think of all the people I could who have covered it over the years and it's just too many.

Yesterday, Sunday, we continued our slow crawl up toward Chicago, through endless fields of dry brown looking corn and soybeans, past tiny little towns with little to recommend them - although we did come across a giant man holding a giant hot dog not too far past Normal, Illinois. What could be more normal than that? Unfortunately Normal seems a little shy about its name, we were hoping for a lot of pictures of things like the Normal Bakery and the Normal Gun Shop, but most business don't seem to be using it in their name.

We also stopped at the St. Anne Pumpkin Festival, but it seemed as though we missed the parade, which is apparently the highlight. By the time we got there the whole town was reverberating to the torrent of decibels emerging from the town dump where they seemed to be holding a tractor pull or some sort of automotive event. We needed to continue on to Chicago so we didn't stick around to watch.

Driving into Chicago from the south - we took old Highway 1 which turns into Halsted and runs north all the way through the city - Colin was astounded and shocked, and I was somewhat surprised, by the lack of racial mix along the way. For something around 75 blocks we didn't see one person who wasn't black. Not even in other cars. Colin had heard about the defacto segregation that still exists in American cities, but wasn't prepared for how overwhelmingly obvious it can be. I was a bit surprised since Watts and Compton, the black parts of Los Angeles, are also home these days to a lot of Latinos, some Asians and some working class whites as well.

We talked for a little about why that might be - beats me in this day and age - and why the U.S. is so willing to spend billions and billions of dollars and thousands of lives trying to solve both real and imaginary problems overseas when there are still such massive inequities here at home. I figure it's because it's easier psychologically when you can fight an external enemy. Here in the U.S. we are our own enemy and few people, or countries, are much good at constructively fighting themselves.

Off To The Aeolian Islands: Stromboli

Sicily up until this point (in the story posts) could be summed up in 2 words: AWESOME and HOT! With most of the major cities and sites that mark Silicy comleted it was time to hit the famous Aeolian islands for some more volcano's, hiking, sun and beach :-)

Hiking was a priority and getting the chance to go up the volcano twice, one during the day once at night, really rocked. Stromboli was the first island visited because I wanted to make sure not to miss it. It's often refered to as the best island and upon reflection afterwards each island (as you will see in later posts) was great in its own way, but Stromboli had that little extra "magic" that will reside in my memory for the rest of my life.

A nice view from about 1/2 the way up the volcano, you can actually see our bed+breakfast from here:



Hiking up the volcano through the reeds:



That black "sand" is actually vulcanic ash from the contant activity and mini-explosions from the mountain. Stromboli is the most active volcano in the world, so much so that heavy volcanic activity in any volcano is refered to as "Strombolic activity". Cool, but the socks and shoes I was wearing turned permanently from white workout to dress black ;-)



Can't beat the view... but not yet at the top:



The view from the top, above the initial cloud line... wow:



We have to hike up the left side of the mountain, the right side of course being too dangerous with the mini-explosions every couple minutes:



Here you see a bit of the end of an explosion, unfortunatly although there are explosions all the time my camera takes 4-5 seconds to take a picture so I never get the full height of the "stream of fire" that erupts into the air, quite a sight if you get a chance to visit:



Watching the sun go down on the top of the volcano, it's a great view when you're there but tough as hell to get a great photo because of all the ash and smoke from the volcano:



Full gear is required at the top as night fell and the smoke got intence. I kinda look like a miner here:



Once again I can't tell you how great Stromboli is, you really have to go and experience it for yourself. The restaurants, the small close nit community, the nature, everything... just perfect. If they had an arena and a white snowy Christmas I could definatly see myself getting lost on this island forever :-)

Watching the sun come up on the last day in Stromboli... nuff said:

Taormina Centurion

Something seems awfly strange about this particular Roman centurion posted in Taormina... is that a spear in his hands?!? ;-)

Reading Spurts

What I've been wasting my time doing 5 mintue browsing sessions over the past week:

Here's a future look at me in March getting my surf on in Oz ;-)

"According to the reading on my equipment up front, there is still one cell phone turned on...", pretty smart fake-out by the flight attendant, or maybe that's why all these Russian planes seem to be falling from the skies like burnt out comets?

Kids these days, they don't want no Monopoly money, they want to charge it!

Watch this guy climb an iceberg.

Yes it does:



Get revenge on that Coke machine.

Single? Moving to the U.S.? Hit one of these cities.

Open your beer with a lighter... or how about just a plain piece of paper.

See Paris all over again, the way it was in 1910.

Bush tries to get it on with the German chancellor, get rejected, makes her look meek, German's make fun of her crappy podcast.



Best Fark headline of the day: "A woman's sex drive begins to plummet once she is in a secure relationship, according to research conducted by almost every married man on planet earth."

I need a squash partner. Read these basics and you're now as good as me, gimme a call and we'll get a game going.

Do you think Britney Spears is an idiot? You are wrong, she is much MUCH more of an idiot than that!

Be a YouTube star.

British Airways suck. I can't believe they put the lives of their passangers in danger like that!!

I'm going back to bed...

Watch Your Head

Fall is arriving in Canada... what a great time of year:

Taormina Plays

Right beside Catania is Taormina. It's kinda like the richer, prettier, more spoiled little sister of Catania... but if you want to spoil yourself, then this is the place to be!



The city has tremendous charm. Just strolling around can uncover any number of treasures, like this wishing well hiden in the garden vines with a view that promises all your wishes will come true:



Strange wonders also abound, like this hawk trainer (yes that's a real live owl on top of the sign that he commands):



The city itself is actually split into 2, one on the coast with all the beaches and a few hotels, and one on the mountain face that you see here with most of the housing, shops, restaurants, more hotels, banks and my personal favorite: the famous Greek theatre (that round bowl you see in the upper left of the city):



That pic and this one were taken from the top of the mountain above Taormina which I hiked up to get an especially great view of the city and, in the distance, Mount Etna:



The jewel of the city however is the preserved theatre. Even now after all these years of wear and tear on the building the view is still breathtaking. Imagine catching a midafternoon play where the actors depict drama of the time with the city and sea on the backdrop:



...or a late night opera under the stars and moon:



I leave the rest to your imagination and encourage you to visit... it was certainly one of the highlights that I will never forget...

Boy Likes Girl

Except from "When Harry Met Sally" spooged from Marginal Revolution. The debate: can guys and girls be friends or will they always degrade to sex?

Harry: You realize of course that we could never be friends.
Sally: Why not?

Harry: What I'm saying is - and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form - is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.
Sally: That's not true. I have a number of men friends and
there is no sex involved.

Harry: No you don't.
Sally: Yes I do.

Harry: No you don't.
Sally: Yes I do.

Harry: You only think you do.
Sally: You say I'm having sex with these men without my
knowledge?

Harry: No, what I'm saying is they all WANT to have sex with you.
Sally: They do not.

Harry: Do too.
Sally: They do not.

Harry: Do too.
Sally: How do you know?

Harry: Because no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.
Sally: So, you're saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive?

Harry: No. You pretty much want to nail 'em too.
Sally: What if THEY don't want to have sex with YOU?

Harry: Doesn't matter because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story.
Sally: Well, I guess we're not going to be friends then.

Harry: I guess not.
Sally: That's too bad. You were the only person I knew in New York.

So what do you think? Can they be friends, or... ;-)

Weekend Washer

The weekend has finally arrived! Unfortunatly with a pile of materials to go through for my studies, house cleaning and laundry to do I'm not so sure that's a good thing! Um... yes it is! ;-)

Actually all that stuff isn't bad at all, the only thing I really hate, and I mean HATE, is ironing dress shirts and pants. Damn that's boring and annoying all at the same time. Stevie got this in that made me think about the upcoming chores:



I guess I'm in the market for a wife! ;-) Have a good one everyone!

Matt's Doubletake Taken

Hilarious! I'm browsing through a bunch of the photo's from the trip and recent weddings when I come across this one. Now we all know Matt's the nicest guy in the world who love's Domi with all his heart, but I guess not seeing her in the days leading up to the wedding took its toll.

Can you tell me what he's thinking here in this pic? Yeah, I thought so. Way to go Matty, you dog you!!! :-)

What? Wasen You Say? :-)

It's that time of year again... yup, it's Cannstatter Wasen time baby! The Wasen is one of the two big parties in Stuttgart each year, the other being Frühlingsfest in the Spring... wait a minute, isn't every day in Stuttgart a party?? ;-)

Last year I was doing the Paris thing and couldn't work it out to get over for those weekends :-( but that'll all change when I finally move there permanently for a year instead of just traveling there every couple months for my studies :-) :-)

Here's the old gang at the Wasen in 2004, just 2 years ago. Seems like a decade ago, seems like a minute ago...

PS> What's with that crazy hair!?!?! ;-)

Update: Has anyone gotten one of these crazy flirt cards? Totally cheezy but certainly a conversation starter! ;-)

Taking On The Beast

Within plain sight of Catania (and most of the western half of Sicily actually) is the biggest active volcano in all Europe: Mount Etna. At 11,000 feet high it was high on my list of "to-do's" while in Sicily, mostly for the hiking and the view, although climbing volcano's in Sicily would become a habit as I later climbed the most active volcano in the world in Stromboli (located just off the coast of Sicily and part of the Aolean Islands).

I was worried about the heat but leaving later in the afternoon gave plenty of time for the climb while still having light of day as well as offering a bit a repreave from the mid-day sun. The weather couldn't have been better in fact!



Although Etna is constantly erupting (they are like "baby" eruptions), there's rarely any danger below the very top of the mountain. There was however some destructive activity a couple years ago. As the picture below will contest, the eruption and subsequant lava flow in 2001 took out some of the houses. This one was only partially covered and is actually still open as a touristy store selling postcards and the like. They also carved out some of the lava rock to construct a make-shift storage wearhouse!

The one side however is completly covered, that's the roof I'm standing on:



Speaking of caverns, there are many caves and tunnels created from the lava flow/cooling around certain areas on the mountain, why looky here:



This is me being a bit grumpy after wonking my head off the low hanging roof of the cave:



The location: perfect.
The weather: perfect.
The company: perfect.
The experience: priceless :-)

Tons of Readers

Denver, CO

I hadn’t really forgot what book tours are like, but I guess I’d forgot enough to embark on this one with the usual stupid optimism.

It helps to think about the "crowds" differently. Colin and I have talked about buying a scale and weighing everyone who comes to our events. The number of pounds would certainly be a lot more impressive than the number of people.

In Tucson, at Clues Unlimited, we had six, five of them friends of mine or friends of their’s. Somehow people you know and who know people you know, just don’t seem to count as much as total strangers when it comes to book events. Still, add all six up and that was probably in the vicinity of 845 lbs. Not a bad start. (It’s good that we’re in the U.S. rather than Asia where people tend to be a lot lighter.)

After the event Colin went back to the hotel and I went out to drinks and dinner with some of the friends who were there and some friends who weren’t there but showed up later. We went to the Congress Hotel in downtown Tucson, a fun venue with several bars, good outdoor places to sit, mediocre trendy food and okay cocktails. It was a mostly nice time, although the two couples I was with both have young children and so, at least 75% of the conversation was about children; a subject that is of little or no interest to me. I sucked back some whisky and returned to the hotel where the internet didn’t work very well, despite the hotel’s assurances.

It is nearly impossible to pass a motel these days that doesn't advertise high-speed internet. I had pretty good luck with it last year. This year it's proving to be a problem. I'm writing this in a motel lobby - as the internet in the room doesn't work - and evesdropping on the desk clerk's conversation with a friend about how she can't live on a thousand bucks a month and certainly can't afford to go to college on that. Makes me feel pretty good about even the underpaid writing biz.

In Phoenix, at the Poisoned Pen (Scottsdale really), we had ten, count them, ten actual strangers. That is a very good turnout on a Saturday afternoon. Although I would have thought Colin would have roped in more – his books sell very well and are very well reviewed. It’s a great store though, and the staff there really liked our “soundtrack album” and played it often - much to the chagrin of one or two patrons who mistook it for "noise." So, let’s see, ten people, averaging about 165 lbs per person; that’s 1,650 lbs.

That evening we went to a baseball game. Colin is something of a total sports fan. Throw a ball into the middle of a bunch of people and have them do something with it leading to one group winning, and you can get his attention. He likes baseball, something which pleases me no end. We had fantastic seats thanks to the Diamondbacks; right behind the third base dugout in the second row. Shame it wasn’t much of a game. There was plenty of sloppy play, not much of elegance to be seen on the field, and we ended up leaving after twelve innings when it seemed as though neither team was capable of winning. (Eventually, I heard, the Diamondbacks won in the bottom of the 16th on a sacrifice fly.)

Then it was off to Sedona and The Well Red Coyote; a charming little bookshop, near as I can tell the only one in town that doesn't specialize in new age books. It's run by Kris Neri - a fine and fun writer on her own - and her husband Joe, who used to play in a blues band in L.A. We had two people for that event. One for each of us. And they weren't fat. The woman might have weighed in somewhere around 125 or so; the man at, perhaps, 170. So I'll be optimistic and give them each two and a half more pounds bringing their total to 300.

After the event we drove from Sedona to Bluff, Utah; probably the only town in the whole state without a Mormon majority. Some 300 people live there, six of them making their living as writers. It's very near Monument Valley and on the edge of the Navajo reservation. There are rock paintings on the cliffs by the river, plenty of hidden away cliff dwellings, rock so red it could parade on May Day; and we stayed with Win and Meredith Blevins, two old and close pals of mine and excellent writers. (I've known Meredith since 8th grade; and Win since she took up with him a number of years ago.) We drank, we ate, we walked around, we watched baseball (Win is a St. Louis Cardinals fanatic) and had a good, relaxing time.

Then yesterday we drove north. We stopped for breakfast in Cortez, Colorado. I recommended huevos rancheros to Colin - he's a vegetarian - and for the first time in my experience they came with meat. America outside the big cities is not an easy place for non-omnivores.

We continued on to Durango, Colorado which is a splendid town. If I were looking for a mountain community to live in, it would definitely be in the running. Part of what makes it good is Maria's books, which is an excellent bookshop where you wouldn't expect one.

But then we turned north on Highway 550, rising into passes above ten thousand feet, surrounded by snow covered craggy peaks and bright yellow aspen trees accenting the green trees. It was one of the more beautiful drives I've ever been on. We took nine and a half hours to drive what would normally be a five or so hour drive. All the stopping was well worth it. We ended up in Gunnison, Colorado for the night where I had an excellent, very reasonably priced steak - it is the middle of cattle country - and Colin had nothing other than a bite of my baked potato and a beer. Afterwards we went to the rather rundown Alamo Bar, where we were greeted warmly by locals, one of them, Claire, an englishwoman who had settled in Gunnison a few years ago and was delighted to be encountering Colin, an englishman. Her boyfriend didn't seem overly pleased, but he warmed up when we posed him with a pool cue for a picture at the pool table.

Something, however, didn't agree with Colin and he spent the morning in the very same medical clinic where a woman died a couple of days ago from eating spinach. Vegetables kill, apparently. He had food poisoning of his own, although not fatal, but very uncomfortable. He managed to sleep somewhat on the drive today to Denver, and he rallied to do a good job at tonight's event at Murder By the Book in Denver.

It was an excellent event: nine strangers and Heidi Mack - my truly splendid webmistress. The store presented us with a cake decorated with our book covers. The baker had done a great job with the dragon on Living Room of the Dead. The people there were interested, friendly, interesting and bought a bunch of books. I think they bought a dozen or more of Living Room - which is pretty unusual for a book that is a year old. So, let's see though, it was a pretty wide range of sizes, maybe averaging out around 150. 1500 more lbs of people.

Where do we stand so far:

The Mystery Bookstore - Los Angeles - 20 people, a very rough estimate of perhaps 2,600 lbs.

Clues Unlimited - Tucson - 845 lbs.
Poisoned Pen - Scottsdale - 1,650.
The Well Red Coyote - Sedona - 300
Murder By the Book - Denver - 1,500

Total approximate pounds of people so far = 6,895

More than three tons of fans! Now that's impressive.

Ancient Syracuse

Not an hour south of Catania is the ancient city of Syracuse... but you won't see too much of this:


(ruins of an old church)

...as not much of the old ruins remain. The city however was rebuilt a few centuries ago and still has that "ancient look", at least for us North Americans ;-) Some of it however, like the famous Cathedral at Piazza Del Duomo can never loose its charm. Here it is in all its glory ;-)



Brilliant isn't it! ;-) Anyways, St. Anne church was at least open if not quite as impressive:




...and the Piazza itself is terrific for a cold beer on a hot day:



If the centre of the island isn't your fancy you can also check out the abundance of picturesque coastline:



...which is exactly what I did! ;-) They even served Paulaner!!



I wasn't quite done soaking up the local culture:



Hmmmm...



Diner time was past approaching... but the restaurant I wanted to go to was on via Castello Maniace which was nowhere to be found (squint and look at the sign behind me, I literally walked down and around that street 4 times before realizing I was on the right one from the beginning!).



Hitting the beach can sometimes be tough on some of the rocky shores of the island... of course some arn't phased a bit!



Although I didn't have much time in Syracuse (just a day/night trip from Catania) it certainly left a lasting impression. It was especially nice since I had arrived just after tourist season was over (last weekend in August) and the city was quite literally deserted of tourists with only the bare minimum of locals remaining behind to enjoy the splenders of the city in peace.

In short, Syracuse's combination of culture, coast and culinary delights make it a highly recommended destination in Sicily. Of course I was pretty excited to leave it as well as it was back to Catania for the nightlife and an early morning rise for one of the highlights of the trip... the trek up the largest active volcano in Europe: Etna! :-)