I recently participated in a book-signing event organized by the Mystery Writers of America (NY) at the American Library Association’s winter conference in Philadelphia.

As always, whenever I stop writing and participate in one of these events, not only did I have a great time, but I also learned a lot, too.

This time, I re-learned some things that I already knew — librarians are a hoot, for example, as are mystery writers.  But I also learned some new things, like why there is so little sex in cozies (cozy mysteries, that is, not the knitted coverings English ladies put on their teapots – there’s probably plenty of sex in those).

The event, which consisted os a Friday night reception followed by signings throughout the weekend, was put together by Rosemary Harris (MWA-NY Board Member and author of the just-released Pushing Up Daisies) and Jane Cleland (MWA-NY Regional President and author of Deadly Appraisal, among others), and as always, they did a great job.

Something else I learned is that in addition to being lovely and talented, Rosemary is also boundlessly energetic. Watching her in a blur of action, I remembered recently sending her a vaguely whiny e-mail about having to schlep up to New York from Philly for an MWA event. She promptly replied with some helpful suggestions and said she would be able to help me more when she got back …from Tanzania. Schlepping, indeed.   

As it turns out, Rosemary is also a hopeless D.D.G. (you know, a Damn Do-Gooder – lots of time and energy helping people, making the world a better place, etc. Don’t tell her I told you, though).

In addition to Rosemary and Jane, I also got to hang out with Liz Zelvin (Death Will Get You Sober), who I usually only see on Myspace. I also got to spend some time with fellow Philadelphian Merry Jones, whom I had met before, but only briefly. Merry has many wonderful qualities, not the least of which is that she laughed at most of my jokes.

 

 

After the Friday night reception, fellow Philadelphians Cordelia Frances Biddle and Steve Zettler (sometimes collaboratively a.k.a. Nero Blanco) welcomed the lot of us into their home. In addition to being lovely themselves, Cordelia and Steve have a lovely home and they made us very welcome in it. It was great hanging out with other writers, talking about the business and the craft of writing and learning about both (see “Sex in cozies,” above). 

 

 

On Sunday, I was back down at the conference for a book signing. Duane Swierczynski unfortunately had to bag out since he was under the weather (and by the sounds of it, practically under the ground). That was a shame, because Duane is a lot of fun and a great writer (it was also a shame because he was stuck at home feeling like crap). We did manage to dispense all the copies of Duane’s excellent thriller, The Blond (and no I did not snag one for myself (I already read it; it’s great (although I did not read the bonus short that came with this edition – damn, shoulda snagged one!))). 

 

 

On the upside, I got to hang out with Marco Connelli, with whom I share a background in music (the difference being that he is still performing and has achieved some success). I also got to hang out briefly with Jeff Markowitz, who was a lot of fun, and the hilarious Jack Getze, with whom I had a great time sharing the signing table.

People took loads of photos over the course of the weekend, which was great, but unfortunately, I look like a goober in all of them. Which brings me to the last thing I learned from the event: it might not actually be the photos that are making me look like a goober.