Editors, agents, reviewers, authors, wannabe authors, and educated fleas do it, so it was only a matter of time before I decided to do it too. Yes, I am officially a blogger. I am a blogspot on the face of the world wide web.
So this weekend we (me and Mr. Thrilling Detective) attended the L.A. Times Book Fair. It's several years since I've been to the festival, and the first time I've appeared in my secret identity (author). I think it is no coincidence that the official event T-shirt features jungle animals reading. The festival has exploded in size--it's a zoo.
My personal belief is that half the people there do not read and do not buy books, but perhaps I'm being cynical. On the other hand, Angelenos love to party, and the Book Fair is a two day extravaganza of food and drink (no alchohol though, and how weird is THAT? We're AUTHORS for cryin' out loud. Alchohol is part of our job description) and books, books, books.
I have to be honest and say that I am not one to relish rubbing shoulders with the madding crowd--unlike Mr. Thrilling, who is a friendly and gregarious soul (despite what they say about him). Poor guy. He just doesn't mind being being jostled and jammed and trampled.
But I digress. The Book Fair is the kind of event that is A Must for local authors (and maybe even not so local authors), although--as you now know, not being especially keen on mobs of people--not my favorite gig in the world. Part of the author biz is to get out there and flog your wares (the paper kind--although sometimes it feels a little more personal). This is not easy for me. It's not easy for most of the writers I know, although some thrive on it. Most of us prefer the writing to the marketing. Although, on the other hand, writing is a solitary profession, and for some, the promotion is a great time to meet and greet.
Speaking of which, I met the talented and charming Libby Fischer Hellman (we share our agent, it turns out). I had the peculiar notion that she wrote Amish mysteries, but...er...no. She writes a very well-regarded series about a single mom filmmaker. She's nominated for an Anthony, how cool is that? Inside, of course, I am deeply, greenly jealous and soooo not wanting to like her or her books. (I'm kidding--at least, I HOPE I am!)
I have, in fact, added Libby to my ever-mounting TBR pile--along with a new one by Holly Baxter called TEARS OF THE DRAGON. This sounds inticing-ly like the Mary Kelly stuff I write (under D.L. Browne). Hopefully I'll manage some little review snippets in the near future.
Oh (hey, nice segue) I also met the adorable Beth Kendrick (we share a publisher, it turns out) who has a new chick lit coming out called EXES AND OHS. Beth is branching into YA, and she wanted to see if I had any objections to her using the penname Killian. I thought that demonstrated real class--and of course I fiercely refused to relinquish the "Killian" nom de plume!! (I truly am kidding.)
Anyway, I signed for a couple of hours at Crime Time Books with moderate success (no, not another author), and then escaped to the homefire delights of MURDER SHE WROTE (Season 1) and a heaping plate of "wings of fire."
And on Saturday I discovered EBAY. Oh. My. Gah.
The wonders and seduction of ebay deserves its own blog, so until then...