Big Conference, Small Talk

Wendall -- every other Thursday

Like many of my Murder is Everywhere compatriots, I’ve just returned from Bouchercon, the annual international mystery convention that was held in San Diego last week. There, I was finally able to meet Ovidia Yu, Caro Mitchell, Michael Sears, and Stan Trollip in person and reconnect with Kwei Quartey, Jeffrey Siger, and Annamaria Alfieri. Everyone else was sorely missed. Our meeting for drinks was one of my favorite parts of the conference and I feel privileged to be a part of this group.

 

The "Murder is Everywhere" attendees at Bouchercon.

 

People who know me well might be surprised by this comment, since they know I’m not someone who’s comfortable in groups. I was never much of a joiner and have avoided, among other things, the Girl Scouts, sororities, group sports (except badminton!), and even Sam’s Club. In fact, attending my first Sisters in Crime meeting in Los Angeles was a huge departure for me.

 

Normally, I’m the person sitting by myself in the back row of the movies or at a panel, the one eating alone at the bar, the one who grabs a corner at a big party and only talks to one person all night. I will always be happier one on one with someone or listening to a spirited discussion at a small dinner party. The idea of a cruise gives me the willies and as much as I love music (at one point I owned 2500 albums and now have 19,000 songs on my iTunes), Coachella is my idea of hell.

 

Because I’m from North Carolina and was taught “a lady” smiles as much as possible, often no one knows that smiling is my default “deer in the headlights” face. According to my husband, James, these two pictures capture the range of my reactions to any party with more than eight people.

 

 

Somewhere between here . . .

 

  . . . and here.

Even as a child, I was always hiding away, reading or walking. When I first read this quote in Lillian Hellman’s An Unfinished Woman, I recognized so much of myself:

 

“Then, I would go back to my tree for a few hours of reading or dozing or having what I called the ill hour. . . certainly I did not mean sick. I think I meant an intimation of sadness, a first recognition that there was so much to understand that one might never find one’s way and the first signs, perhaps, that for a nature like mine, the way would not be easy. I cannot be sure that I felt all that then, although I can be sure that it was in the fig tree, a few years later, that I was first puzzled by the conflict that would haunt me, harm me, and benefit me the rest of my life: simply, the stubborn, relentless, driving desire to be alone as it came into conflict with the desire not to be alone when I wanted not to be. I already guessed that other people wouldn’t allow that, although, as an only child, I pretended for the rest of my life that they would and must allow that to me.”

 

One of my favorite "introvert" author memoirs.

 

Because of this push and pull—being an introvert who is lucky enough to have people in my life I adore—I have a complicated relationship with conferences, especially ones as large as Bouchercon, which this year attracted over 1700 attendees.

 

I love going to panels and seeing my friends—or authors I admire— talk about their work, I love meeting my fellow panelists, I love supporting friends who are nominated for awards. 

 

 

Chatting with wonderful author Jo Perry on the "Humor and Homicide" panel.

I really enjoy talking one on one with readers when I’m signing books. 

 

With one of my loyal readers at McIntyre's Books.

 

I even love Speed Dating, since it limits my conversations to two minutes on a topic I know something about. But the experience, overall, is always stressful for me.

 

 

Speed Dating with my husband for the first time. We survived!

 

The upside is that, if I’m lucky I can hide away “off campus” with a beloved friend or two. The downside is how ineffectual I feel the rest of the time. It’s because, frankly, I suck at small talk. I never know what to say to anyone I run into in the halls—especially when I’m trying not to be late for another friend’s panel. I have a hard time having a conversation in a loud bar, milling about in a reception, pushing through a crowd to say hello to an author I’ve always wanted to meet, or sitting at a table for twelve.

 

All week, I watched in awe as authors, agents, and readers engaged in happy, beautifully social behavior, laughing and taking selfies with twenty other people, while I floundered. I worried that people who said hello to me in the hallways or elevator thought me horribly rude, while in fact, I was just panicked. I had no idea what to say to anyoneI didn’t know well and ran into more than three times.

 

So, to all the readers and authors I passed by or missed,  know I love and appreciate you all and I hope, under the tutelage of the Murder is Everywhere crew, I can be a bit more socially adept the next time we meet!