Trouble in Tucson -- Again

 

Wendall—every other Thursday

 

Like my blog mates, I’ve just returned from the Left Coast Crime conference in Tucson, where I was finally able to meet fellow MIE authors Annamaria, Kwei, and Guest of Honor Sujata in person, reconnect with Jeff and the wonderful Barbara Zilly, and see and speak to many other wonderful authors and readers.

 

It took place at the El Conquistador resort, which was particularly gorgeous in the early morning and late afternoon.

 

My first morning walk.

 

The afternoon view from our balcony.

It made me think about how certain places, certain landscapes, circle back in our lives, gathering meaning each time. Tucson is one of those for me.

 

My grandfather had four sisters. My Great Aunt Dee was the adventurous one, leaving their Myrtle Beach, S.C. farm for Arizona when she was in her twenties. I would see pictures of her standing by saguaros and laughing. Her sisters would go to visit and come back with inappropriate pictures like this (!), taken in 1962, and tales of chiles and cacti and sky. 

 

My four great aunts on one of their Arizona/Mexico trips...

 

As a child, I ate those stories up and went to visit as soon as I could. It was my first real encounter with the West and the beginning of my love affair with skies like these.

 

Behind the El Conquistador

 

Years later, when I was working in the film business, my director boss took on a television movie called Wheels of Terror, with the tag line: “Evil waits. With the motor running.” I didn’t mind the content, because I got to live in a hotel in Tucson and spend every day and night out in the same stunning landscape that surrounds the conference hotel.

 

I also got per diem, most of which wound up in the cash registers of the extraordinary used and vintage stores on 4th Avenue. I would spend my days off going through racks and racks of 40s and 50s cocktail dresses and beaded sweaters, all available for around five dollars, and lugging dozens of treasures home. I still have this 40s dress from those days and always feel like Irene Dunne or Ginger Rogers when I wear it.

 

Dress snagged from Tucson vintage shop for a song.

 

A few years later, one of my dear friends asked if I wanted to meet her at the stunning, historic Arizona Inn. This oasis in the city boasts newspapers on wooden holders, ice cream socials, and quiet. It became my go-to writing retreat in the summers, where it was so hot the rooms went on sale. It is truly like taking a trip back in time and if you ever get the chance to visit, do.

 

Tichnor Brothers, Publisher, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

 

So, I arrived last week at the LCC conference already in love, and the grounds of the hotel only reinforced my passion for the place. 

 

Looking toward the entrance.

 

A view of the pool.

At the conference, I was lucky enough to be on a panel about “Creating Memorable Characters,” with authors Jamie Mason, D.M. Rowell, and Celeste Connally. Naomi Hirahara was a fabulous moderator, even though, as you can see in the second photo, I don't think she believed me.

 

The "Creating Memorable Characters" panel.

I don't think Naomi's buying it.

I'm sorry Annamaria didn’t get to see enough wildlife. We had a few encounters and it was definitely my first real life viewing of a javelina, as we spotted two at dawn beneath our balcony. We thought at first it might be dogs, but they were peccaries, all right.

  

Javelinas under our balcony.

Hard to see, but there!

 

Here's a National Parks photo so you can see what they actually look like.

From the National Parks cams.

 

We also chased a Vermillion flycatcher until it finally landed on this branch.

These gorgeous birds were all over the property.

 

Tucson. I can’t wait to come back.

 

-- Wendall

 

P.S. Annamaria, Kwei, Michael Stanley, and I all have articles in the new issue of Mystery Readers Journal, out today.

When Writers Grow Like Cacti

 Sujata Massey

I’ve just unpacked from a five-day trip to the Oro Valley near Tucson, Arizona. At a resort in the foothills, about 475 intrepid souls gathered for the Left Coast Crime convention to celebrate the art of the mystery … and also the art of the burrito, the quesadilla, the tamal. 

 

The chimichanga’s invention is credited to a longago chef at El Charro, the oldest family owned-and-operated Mexican restaurant in the United States. I dined at El Charro one of the nights during this conference, as well as two other terrific local restaurants, Guadalajara Grill and Family Hacienda. All of them were unpretentious, priced reasonably, and exceptionally tasty.

 

I spoke on several panels and had an interview with my editor at the convention, which was a special plus of being named an author guest of honor along with the writers Glen Eric Hamilton and JA Jance. Judith Ann, as she was named at birth, has written at least 70 books—according to her website—and is 78 years old. 

Some of my blogmates who write along with me at Murder is Everywhere came to the convention. it was a treat to spend time with Jeff Sigler, Wendall Thomas, Annamaria Alfieri, and Kwei Quartey--who was unfortunately still in transit when we took the photo below. 

 

It was humbling to notice the massive number of people in the so-called “golden years” who spoke on panels, bought books, and schmoozed. Many of the conference's core committee of volunteers were in their 70s and 80s. The hotel's halls were filled with writers who began work many decades ago, or very quickly after retirement. 

 

Arizona is known for attracting people who want to retire in warm weather with a dramatic mountainous environment. And while the ground is largely sand and rocks, hardy flowers and shrubs form a desert bloom at this time of year. Every bit of water that falls seems to be captured and turned into something of beauty.

 

The most ubiquitous cactus is the saguaro, native to the Sonora desert and capable of growing up to forty feet tall. I learned that these mega plants take a long time to get started: up to twenty years to grow the first twelve inches. However, they may live more than 150 years, and sometimes have upwards of 50 arm-like branches. Mature saguaros can weigh three to four thousand pounds, weight that comes from being filled with water that slowly feeds their own growth and the host of animals and insects that come to them for sustenance. 

 

The saguaro cactus, a column of strength with an undetermined, individual journey, reminds me of the slow process, and many offshoots, in becoming a writer.

After Left Coast Crime

Annamaria on Monday

It's Sunday afternoon and though most of my dear ones are gone, I am still here in Tucson. Because I wanted to stay here for the Sunday morning events, I had only one choice if I wanted to fly home today: fly to LAX and take the redeye to arrive early on Monday morning. I declined. I have taken the redeye many times in the past, but I think it is now against my religion to suffer that ever again.

So, after heartfelt goodbye hugs to friends I see all too infrequently, I am in my room working on my blog in between a lovely lunch and up coming dinner with writer friends who live nearby.  My plan was to prepare for writing this post by walking around the grounds of the hotel and photographing the wildlife alleged to be nearby and easy to find.  I walked and looked and walked and looked.  Nada.

Here are a few photos of the area that are , more or less, worth looking at:

This is as close as I got to seeing a cowboy

I know.  I owe the readers of MIE something better than this.  But the past few days have been so warm, so full of affection and friendship and have included one of my loveliest birthdays ever.  i am still basking in the glow of it all and cannot summon my usual determination.

I wanted, at the very least to show you all a photo of one of the legendary creatures that live nearby - a roadrunner.  I went to all the places where other attendees of the conference said they saw them.  No dice.

Here is the best I can do:

I am pretty sure that you laughed as hard as I did.  As far as I can tell, cartoons like this one are one of greatest artefacts of American culture.

Meeet meeet.

Authors Assemble!

Buxton Assembly Rooms, March 17 2023 

Zoë Sharp

 

On Friday of last week, I was one of eighteen exhibitors at the first Authors Assemble event in Buxton. There were authors in various genres, both fiction and non-fiction, from sci-fi and horror, through crime to historical and wartime sagas, a memoir, local history, and children’s literature. Also present were displays by a writing school, several small publishers, and a marketing and communications guru.

 

The event was organised by Kerry Fox and her team from the Buxton Crescent Heritage Trust, and took place in the magnificent Assembly Rooms at one end of the Crescent itself. The aim of bringing together such a varied selection of authors was to highlight the former use of the Assembly Rooms as the town’s library from 1972 to 1992.

pic courtesy of Shirley Mann

As well as table displays, there was a series of talks by eleven of the authors on topics such as ‘The Amazing Women of World War II’ (Shirley Mann), ‘The Grotesques of Buxton’ (Terry Newholm), ‘Writing the Dance’ (Tricia Durdey), ‘Women and Business in Georgian England’ (Dr Peter Collinge), ‘Crime Fiction in the 1920s’ (Celia Harwood), and Writing a Long-Running Series and Keeping it Fresh’ (That would be me).

 

 

All in all, a very interesting day.

 

Different Approaches

What particularly interested me was the format. Apart from the original Bodies in the Bookshop at Heffers in Cambridge, I have not taken part in many events where you are given a table, along with a crowd of other authors, and left to display your wares. It was fascinating, therefore, to see the different approaches taken by the other exhibitors.

Some, like myself, just had their books on their table, with maybe a sign-up sheet for their newsletter list. SR (Ste) Dunham had gone further by having QR codes to the eBook versions of his titles.

 

Former BBC radio and television journalist, Shirley Mann, had background information and photographs, as well as one of the awards won for her romantic saga novels, set during WWII.

Children’s author, Sue Wilkins has not only written stories for children, illustrated by Liz Furness, but she has produced soft toys of the characters, which were also available to buy.

Dr Peter Collinge was awarded his PhD on businesswomen in Georgian Derbyshire from Keele University, and – as you might expect – had very professional banners illustrating his subject.

Communications and marketing expert Lucy Rennie – author of Clarity, Communication and Connection – had brought a mind-bending game to lure people to her table, although I failed to take a clear picture of it, unfortunately! But it certainly worked to break the ice.

 

The Derbyshire Writing School had made an amazing display with their table, signing people up for upcoming courses, being interviewed on their podcast, or offering writing prompts and tips.

So, not only an interesting day, but one that was educational as well.

 

Buxton Crescent

It isn’t often you get to do a writing event in such glorious surroundings as the Assembly Rooms at the Crescent in Buxton.

 

The Crescent is very reminiscent of the Royal Crescent in Bath, but has been described as being more complex and more richly decorated. The ceiling of the Assembly Rooms was certainly elaborate.

 

But everywhere you looked was fine detailing.

 

 

And more gold leaf than you could shake a stick at.

 

Outside, the Grade I listed building is magnificent. It was built for the Fifth Duke of Devonshire over nine years from 1780 to 1789. At the time, a Post Office and variety of shops were located along the arcade, while the Crescent itself housed a hotel and lodging houses, as well as the Assembly Rooms, and it was considered the centre of local high society. At one point, there was stabling for up to a hundred and twenty horses for guests.

 

The Crescent became entirely comprised of two hotels – the Great Hotel at the eastern end, and St Ann’s at the western end. By the twentieth century, the eastern end, including the Assembly Rooms, had become council offices, as well as housing a clinic and the library.

The pump room, with the western end of the Cresent behind.

After structural problems were discovered in 1992, the entire building stood empty, until it was purchased by the council and enough grant money secured to prevent further deterioration. There were many delays while partnerships were formed, grants and loans obtained, and a lot of legal hoops were jumped through, before restoration could begin in 2003. The revamped five-star hotel, natural baths, visitor centre and specialist shops, finally reopened in 2020.

The Assembly Rooms at the eastern end of the Crescent.

The Architect

The Crescent was designed by architect John Carr, and was said to be his favourite work. Carr was born in 1723 in Horbury, near Wakefield, the eldest son of a master mason and quarry owner, Robert Carr. He trained under his father, learning practical construction skills as well as draughtsmanship, which stood him in good stead when he struck out on his own in 1748.

 

Carr chose to remain in the north of England rather than move to London, but his work was well-known and well-respected. He was the only provincial member of the London Architects’ Club. A prolific architect, mostly in the Palladian style, he was responsible for Ripley Castle, Harewood House, and Castle Howard in Yorkshire, Holker Hall in Cumbria, and also worked on Chatsworth in Derbyshire.

John Carr, painted by Sir William Beechey.

(Plans are for the Buxton Crescent) 

In York, where Carr was a magistrate and served as Lord Mayor in 1770 and 1785, he twice surveyed and repaired York Minster. He also designed bridges, racecourse grandstands, prisons, and other public buildings, including the Assize Courts, the Bishop’s Palace, and the Bootham Park Hospital, all in York.

 

Many of John Carr’s works survive today, thanks to the soundness of their construction and design.

 

To mark the 300^th anniversary of Carr’s birth, the Assembly Rooms at the Crescent will be the venue for a Birthday Ball in April, with an optional regency dance workshop that afternoon, for those who want to learn the steps. Georgian attire or black tie and ballgown. Carriages at 11pm.

This week’s Word of the Week is something you use every day but probably cannot name, unless you are a linguistics scholar: schwa, derived from the Hebrew shewa, meaning emptiness. It denotes an unstressed vowel, and you may be surprised to learn that the schwa sound is the most common vowel sound in English; some one-third of the vowels we use in conversation are unstressed. For example, the 'a' in machine, the first 'u' in pursue, the 'e' in camera, the 'o' in memory. My favourite instance is the second 'o' in photograph contrasted with the first 'o' and the 'a' in photography. Schwa vowels appear in many languages and their occurrence is obviously affected to some degree by local accents.

A Few Thoughts From Saguaro Land.

 

Jeff–Saturday

 

I absolutely love Left Coast Crime and this year, after a three-year Covid-induced absence from the US mystery convention circuit, Barbara and I are in Tucson, spending an absolutely delightful time engaged in face-to-face reunions with long missed book friends and MIE blog mates Annamaria, Kwei, Wendall, and LCC Guest of Honor Sujata.

 

I thought of posting a host of photos documenting our experiences thus far, but instead promised Sister Annamaria that I’d leave it to her to do the photo honors in her Monday slot. Instead, I decided to launch off on something that stared me in the face when I looked in the hotel mirror this morning.

 

Here’s what I saw.

 

Not what you expected?

 

I’ve spent thousands of overnights in hotel rooms, and never do I recall seeing anything quite like that before. 

 

Yes, I’ve seen placards appealing for guests to save water by reusing towels or putting off bedding changes, but never one advising guests that making beds, cleaning bathrooms, and emptying trash will not be provided unless requested, albeit “For stays of 4 nights or longer, we will provide a full room cleaning every 5^th day using Lysol protection.”

 

I suspect it’s a Covid-instituted position intended to protect housekeeping staff and guests from infecting one another.  But what’s the justification for keeping that in effect in today’s post-Covid restrictions times?

 

To me it’s simple.  Reduced housekeeping services means a direct reduction in labor costs and a concomitant increase in profits—unless of course there’s been a reduction in room rates to compensate guests asked to endure unmade, unclean, and trashy rooms?

 

Is anyone willing to take that bet?

 

I doubt my experience is isolated or unique, but rather a phenomenon playing out across a hospitality industry that’s come to accept as gospel a simple business principle: if the consumer is willing to endure, why change? 

 

My being asked to endure for the greater good of many appeals to me. Being asked to endure so that the many in need of work remain unhired in order to better profit the bottom line, does not.   

 

I think I’ll sic Barbara on them.

 

––Jeff

  

St Patrick's Day

 

Bejessus, Begorra, Top of the mornin to ya. Anymore of that and I’ll be at yer pigs with my shillelagh.

And lots of other things that Irish people never say. 

They do actually say feck a lot which is not rude at all. It just sounds as though it might be.

So happy St Patrick's Day to one and all, although  at the moment we’re more entrenched in the commercialisation of Mother's Day which is this Sunday. I am rounding that square by giving my mother a present of  Ballycastle Irish Cream Liquor which is a cheap ( but very tasty)  version of Baileys Irish Cream Liquor. So, the penny pinching Scot is in admiration of the Irish alcohol which could be a theme for  many things.

Like most Scots I have a high percentage of Irish. My paternal grandfather was from Belfast, he could never pronounce my name and called me Carl. If a word began with a Z he’d have to put an O in front of it. I still have to stop myself saying O’Zip and O’Zebra. O’Feck could very well be misunderstood.

St Patrick was probably British (some sources say that he was born to Roman parents and that he probably spent his early years in Southern Scotland or in Wales). He was kidnapped as a child and taken to Ireland in an early form of human trafficking. 

He probably never wore green. As we are talking the 4^th century details are scant and open to interpretation but it is interesting that the colour was called St Patrick's Blue. The green only really became associated with him in the Irish Independence Movement of the late 18^th century. Bearing in mind the relative significance of green and blue, catholic and protestant, Celtic and Rangers and the west of Scotland, this is particularly ironic. 

As is the blue face of Mel Gibson in Braveheart. William Wallace never wore a kilt or wode. That blue colour comes from the flag of St Andrew. And Hollywood.

 But, Patrick took the national flower of Ireland, the shamrock, and used that as a metaphor for the Holy Trinity when he was introducing Christianity to the pagans of Ireland. Having met some of my Irish relatives I think most of the paganism is still going strong.

Another thing St Patrick is famous for is snakes, there's always one  wrapped round his staff. He's accredited with driving all the snakes out of Ireland when, of course, there’s never been any there as its too cold and too wet – reptiles just wouldn’t have survived the ice age. And being an island … There’s only one native snake in Great Britain – the adder -which can give you a nasty nip if you are tracking through heather without your socks tucked into your trousers.

So in a nutshell, St Patrick could be the most celebrated Welshman in America. 

Did all that start in Boston?

Patrick was slave for 6 years in Ireland, probably tending to animals, before having a revelation in a dream, so he escaped, walked to County Mayo and just kept going travelling to France/Gaul where he  studied Christianity for almost 20 years. He then returned to Ireland and he was clever enough to combine his Christian teachings with Irish Pagan tradition and Druid folklore, although he sometimes crossed the line and was promptly imprisoned only to escape again and continue with his teachings.

A good example of this mergeing of faiths is the Christian cross which has obvious symbolism, and he superimposed on that an image of the sun which is a powerful Irish/Druid symbol to give what is called the Celtic Cross.

=

So go ahead enjoy your Guiness, your potato scones, sing great songs and dance until you can dance no more.

Happy St Patricks day. 

Caro