As I continue to revel in the Anthony nomination for my pirate mystery “Skull and Cross-Examinations,” and eagerly await the release of “The Pirate’s Debt,” the second in the series (due out in the August issue of Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine), I’ve received several notes asking me how a dignified author like myself would know so much about the vicious Brethren of the Coast. And I’ve decided it’s time to come clean about myself. The fact is, piracy runs in my blood. I am descended from a long line of seafaring scoundrels, and more than a few of my ancestors would be proud to see me writing about piratical things. In fact, during a recent investigation into my family history I discovered a stack of yellowed photos of some of these scalawags.

Take a look at my several-times-great-grandmother, Evil Leigh:

What was it that made her smile? I’d rather not say–it’s more gruesome than any murder I’ve ever written about. Here’s a shot of the Crimson Captain, who weighed anchor in Evil Leigh’s home port a time or two, if you know what I mean:

Most fearsome of all was the result of their temporary alliance, Blood-eye Val, who never met a tankard of grog she didn’t like. Drunk or sober, she could buckle swashes with the best of ’em.

So next time you’re wondering why it is an author chooses a particular setting, just remember that you may not really want to know.

Historical Note
You may be thinking that photography wasn’t exactly common in that era, and you’re right. Obviously the cameras were stolen.

Yesterday I did something I’ve wanted to do for years:  I went to Book Expo America, also known as BEA. I’ve wanted to go ever since reading Isaac Asimov’s mysteryMurder at the ABA, which is what BEA used to be called. Every year I read coverage of ABA, then BEA, in Publisher’s Weekly and Locus and Publisher’s Lunch and I just wanted to see it for myself. So yesterday I got up in the wee hours, and few to New York for the day to attend.

Of course, I have been to NEBA/NEIBA and NAIBA both regional variations on the them, so I figured I was ready. Besides, I knew it that this year’s edition the big show it has been in year’s past, where I’d read about photo ops with half-clad cover models like Fabio, and free-range celebrities, and stacks of free books and galleys. It couldn’t  be that big.

Ha! As soon as I stepped inside the door, I was overwhelmed by the size and scope of the event. It’s HUGE. If it had been at full strength, I’d probably have hyperventilated and been found sitting in a corner somewhere, breathing into one of those really nifty tote bags Harlequin was handing out.

I made my way to the Mystery Writers of America booth, ruled over by the freakishly capable executive Margery Flax. I don’t know Margery’s official title–let us just say that she keeps the MWA running. She had done most of the organizing for MWA’s presence at BEA, including setting up the signing schedule. I wasn’t due to sign for several more hours, so I dropped of my stuff, and went to wander.

I would like to say that I worked the crowds, made important professional connections, and ensured higher sales for my books. But mostly I rubbernecked, and checked out upcoming releases from authors I read, got books signed, and just had a good time. (I did meet up with wonder agents Joshua Bilmes, of the JABberwocky Literary Agency, and Janet Reid, of Fine Print, plus the always charming Mary Smith of Thorndike Books, but since I already knew them, I don’t think that counts.) Some high points:

• Having my hand shaken by the Amazing Kreskin, there to sign his memoir.
• Getting the comic version of the Wizard of Oz signed by Eric Shanower.
• Chatting all-too-briefly with fellow mystery writers Karen Olson, Meredith Cole, Mary Jane Maffini, Alexandra Sokoloff, Heather Graham, Tim Maleeny, J.T. Ellison, Reed Farel Coleman, Frankie Bailey, Ken Isaacson, and Hank Philippi Ryan. Plus others I’m sure I’ve forgotten.
• Meeting a couple of really nice librarians in a signing line, one of whom commented on how nice it was to be at a place where everybody had the common bond of loving books. (Except maybe the two feather bedecked Samba dancers–there to promote something, no doubt, but heck if I know what.)
• Getting a “Don’t Panic” bar towel promoting the new Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy book.
• Meeting a costumed Olivia from the childrens’ book series.  I love those books, and I love that pig.
• For overall weirdness, seeing a trio of storm troopers from Star Wars walk by.

At 1:30, I went to do the one thing I was officially there for:  sign and hand out copies of The Curse of the Kissing Cousins. Berkley Prime Crime had generously supplied two boxes for me to give out, and I was inordinately pleased that they were all given away. We MWA members accidentally benefited from the show being less swag-heavy. Since people weren’t having nearly so many free books and ARCs thrust at them, they were delighted to get our books. According to Margery, every singe one of our authors handed out every single one of their books. (Giving away books may not sound all that remarkable, but I got dragooned three times yesterday to accept a signed book from somebody who was having trouble finding takers.) 

On a purely personal level, many of the people I gave books to weren’t familiar with my stuff. Okay, bad for the ego, but good because I’ve now reached nearly fifty new readers, and they’re the kind of readers who share their knowledge. People liked the pirate rubber ducks I was giving away, too. (They were in honor “Skull and Cross-Examinations,” my Anthony Award nominee for Best Short Story.) 

There was time after my signing shift for one final spin through the exhibit halls before I caught a cab back to LaGuardia, and a plane back to Boston. I was so tired I fell asleep during the safety announcement on board the plane.

So having been at the center of the book business today, I feel as if I should have wisdom and/or knowledge to impart, other than the aforementioned, “It was HUGE.” 

• The big publishers are indeed watching their pennies. This was obvious in the more modest amounts of swag, and the publishers who didn’t have a booth at all.
• The big publishers are still doing lots of business. The booths for the big guys, including my publisher Penguin, stayed busy, and they were doing business. Ditto for all the big guys, really. Harlequin and American Girl, particularly, were extremely popular. 
• The small publishers are also watching their pennies, but there was such an wonderful variety of small presses and niche publishers. 
• Writers are working hard to sell their own books, too. In addition to the MWA, the Horror Writers of America and Romance Writers of America had booths to promote their members. In fact, writers were everywhere: at the main signing area, giving out books at booths, speaking at the various stages, and just networking. (Or, if they’re like me, rubbernecking.)
• The times are changing. There were a lot of e-media and bloggers around, plus the Espresso machine demonstrations to show how bookstores can pop out books in minutes. 
• Some things never change. When push came to shove, what the booksellers wanted were galleys and books and catalogs. Okay, and tote bags to put all that stuff in. Books are still the name of the game at BEA.
• It was HUGE. Not just the show, mind you, but the book industry. Publishers, booksellers, book packagers, book scouts, librarians, authors, editors, agents, cover illustrators, designers, publicists, marketing people, comic book artists, printers, typesetters, bloggers, reviewers, content providers… All people who somehow help provide books and stories to the world. It makes me humble to been a cog in the machinery of it all, and proud to be a part of it.

So boiled down, was it worth it? I mean, I’m sure I missed opportunities, and I know I didn’t come close to seeing the whole show, and I think I misspelled at least one of the names on the books I signed. I came home footsore, and even without staying overnight, it was an expensive trip.

Well…

Hell yes!

And I can’t wait to go again.

Friday the 13th was uncommonly lucky for me this year. I found out that the trade paperback release Many Bloody Returns debuted at #29 on the New York Times Best Seller List for Trade Paperbacks. I’d have blogged about it sooner, but I’ve just been too darned excited.

I’m very proud of my grandbook.

Many thanks to everybody who bought a copy!

Lately, I’ve been seeing more of my books coming out in new editions. Many Bloody Returns in German, Without Mercy in large print, and even as I write this, the trade paperback edition of Many Bloody Returns is hitting the shelves.

With this glut of new books to hold and savor, I’ve realized something. If a my books are like my children, then the new editions of my books are like my grandchildren.

You see, I’ve always heard that being a grandparent is particularly awesome because you get a baby to lay claim to and play with, but you don’t have to go through labor or change diapers. It’s the same thing with a new edition. I get to put this lovely new book on my shelf, but I don’t have to actually write another book or go through editing. Okay, maybe there’s a little work involved, like a fresh set of galleys to look at, but that’s no worse than babysitting, and certainly nothing compared to the original work of gestation.

So please allow me to announce the arrival of my new grandbook, the trade paperback of Many Bloody Returns.  I spotted the first copy at a Barnes & Noble in Saugus, MA, and of course, I took a picture. It’s what grandparents do.

We’re having our first  decent snowfall of the year, with more coming Friday, which of course makes the world look a Christmas card. So Christmas approaches, let me offer my happiest holiday wishes, and a new Criminal Christmas carol.

Buy yourself a mystery for Christmas

Death in black and white

From then on,

Your troubles will be out of sight

Read yourself a mystery at Christmas

Turn pages every day

From then on

Your troubles will be miles away!

Here we are as in olden days

Happy golden days of gore

Faithful sleuths who are dear to us

Solving crimes for us once more

Through the years

We’ll be reading them together

If publishers allow

From Sayers to Sherlock’s last bow!

And treat yourself to mystery at Christmas now!

Just got back from Necon, the warmest and fuzziest horror convention you’ll ever attend. I’ve always heard that mystery writers are so friendly because we release all our violent tendencies in our fictional homicides, but apparently the authorial and artistic mayhem committed by horror practitioners is even more cathartic. This was one laid-back, friendly group. The beer probably helped.

Though this was Necon 28, it was a new convention for me. I don’t write horror, and haven’t read a lot recently, but my friend and co-editor Charlaine Harris was one of the guests of honor and my editor Ginjer Buchanan is a regular camper. I say “camper” because the convention is affectionately known as Camp Necon. Instead of being held at the usual bland hotel, Necon takes place at Roger Williams University in Bristol, RI. (Usually, they take over a dorm or two, but this year, we were at the college’s conference center.) And in addition to a robust selection of panels, dealer’s room, and art show, we had:

• A saugie roast. A saugie is a local type of hot dog, and believe you me, it’s a Rhode Island delicacy. I think I ate enough of them to make up for the blood loss caused by tiny Rhode Island vampires, also known as mosquitos.
• A Hawaiian shirt contest. It took me a while to find a Hawaiian shirt of my own-apparently they are not a big item in Boston-but when I did locate the perfect selection, it came with matching flip flops. Unfortunately I couldn’t compete, because I helped judge the contest. I understand it was the first year a Hawaiian shirt won the Hawaiian shirt contest.
• A miniature golf tournament at Fantasy Land, which I came nowhere near winning, despite getting a hole in one. I also got to ride a wonderful sea dragon on the merry-go-round, once somebody helped me get my foot over the wings. (Thanks John, and I SO hope nobody had a camera handy at that moment.)
• A softball game, which I single-handedly saved. It was I who supplied the bottle opener for the beer.
• Other sporting events such as poker, croquet, and darts. The Brits won the darts medals, naturally. Yes, there were medals.
• A talent show, which included singing, dancing, ranting, magic, and several hours of laughs. If they ever make a CD of that song about murdering mermaids, I want a copy.
• A roast of a longtime Necon camper, and even though I didn’t know him or anything about him, I still laughed my tail end off.  Even without beer.

I got to meet some really talented and interesting people (Laura Anne Gilman, Carole Whitney, James, and Mad), renew acquaintances with others (Chris Golden, Morven Westfield, John Douglas, and online friend Nate Kenyon) and share cans of Off with total strangers. I came home with a wonderful picture of a pirate werewolf (I’m not making this up-http://skeeryvilletown.blogspot.com/) and a list of authors to read that includes Michael Marshall Smith, Tom Sniegoski, Hal Bodner, and Elizabeth Massie. 

Happy Independence Day!  I feel as if I’m in the middle of the American Revolution even now.  I’ve been watching the HBO miniseries John Adams on DVD, which starts in the 1700’s, and I just finished reading Diana Gabaldon’s A Breath of Snow and Ashes, which is set during the beginning of the Revolution.

Now if I can just defeat the tyranny of typos…  I’ve got the galley proofs for Wolfsbane and Mistletoe, the Christmas werewolf anthology I co-edited with the scintillating Charlaine Harris, and I’m going through them with an eagle eye.  The book is due out October 7.