by Marsali Taylor
A
skyworth of star authors, lots of interesting panels, fun events, and a
comfortable and capacious venue in the centre of Toronto made for a wonderful
Bouchercon 2017.
The
conference opened on Wednesday 11th October with a number of tours
for attendees: a Conan Doyle tour of the Toronto Public Library, a bus tour to
Niagara Falls and a Ghost Walk. Thursday began with an introduction to
Bouchercon and an author Speed Dating event. After that, it was panels all day,
and a variety of evening events. Throughout the weekend there were ‘A chance to
meet ...’ sessions every twenty minutes in the VIP room, and panels for the
Anthony Award nominees. There were individual interviews with the Guests of
Honour, who included Louise Penny, Megan Abbott, Christopher Brookmyre, Chris
Grabenstein, Howard Engel and reviewer Margaret Cannon, and big names like
Linwood Barclay, Kathy Reichs and Yrsa Sigurdurdottir appeared on panels. In all, there were over 700 authors attending,
taking up 90 pages of the glossy A4 conference programme issued to attendees in
a handy Mystery Writers of America backpack.
The
conference took over the entire lower concourse of the Sheraton Hotel, with
seven generously-sized venues in use (each of them well-filled for the events I
attended, and with the doors left open so people could dip in and out), a large
room set aside for new and second-hand bookshops and signings, several tables
with help-yourself tea, coffee and iced water provided by a variety of sponsors,
and ample, handy washrooms. The sessions were each an hour, with a half hour in
between sessions, so that you could buy your book and get it signed without
missing your next session, or just spend time saying ‘Wasn’t that great!’ to
fellow attendees. The atmosphere was really friendly, with a good mix of
authors, unpublished authors and readers – a total of 1800 people attended the
event.
Thursday
evening’s event was the Opening reception, which included the Barry, Derringer
and Macavity awards presentation. This event was sponsored by Harper Collins /
Harlequin, and was followed by Pub Games with Felony and Mayhem.
The
first panel I attended was on Friday morning, ‘UK Crime’ led by Lisa de Nicolits,
with Cathy Ace representing Welsh mysteries, Ruth Ware speaking out for the
Cotswolds, and Craig Robertson and I flying the Scotland flag (I sweltered
gently in my best Shetland jumper). de Nicolitis had prepared very thoroughly
for this panel, with starting introductions and quotes from each author, and
then discussions of various points which we had in common, like our use of
history, and the British idea that a cup of tea is the solution to any shocking
discovery or human dilemma (‘And whatever it looks like or tastes like, you
have to drink it,’ Ace warned the audience). Our audience was warm and
appreciative, and several people came up afterwards to say how much they’d
enjoyed it – one said to Lisa later that it had been one of the best discussions
of the weekend.
At
11.00, I headed to the chandelier-lit Grand West Ballroom for Mike McCray’s
panel on ‘Sweet Revenge’, with authors Elizabeth Heiter, Stuart Neville, Emilie
Schepp, Victoria Helen Stone and Michael Wiley. The authors described their books,
then discussed what made revenge so fascinating in literature.
They
agreed that it was a flawed concept, but that the personal emotions involved
made it an excellent topic for a crime novel. Authors also spoke about why
they’d chosen their protagonists, how they put themselves into the mind of an
avenger, and research they’d used for that.
Irishman
Neville felt that revenge is a flawed concept, which leads only to more
violence; Stone and Wiley agreed that it was good to indulge in fantasy
revenge. Heiter said that revenge is very personal, a lot of heavy emotion,
which makes for interesting characters, and Neville pointed out that revenge is
a self-driving plot with consequences for the protagonist, who is, Heiter
pointed out, often as outside the law as the original perpetrator – ‘but you’re
cheering for them,’ Schepp said. Revenge, Wiley pointed out, was the mainspring
of some of the oldest stories going, the Greeks, Hamlet – we may now say honour
crimes are not acceptable, but that idea of lost honour is still buried inside
us, and emerges in a time of crisis.
McCray
asked the authors if they set out to write a revenge story, and Schepp said
she’d wanted to explain what made a strong character – her revenger is a former
child soldier. Revenge wasn’t in every book; her character wanted to know ‘Who
am I really?’ Heiter said she had to write about what interested her, and she
also needed to think about her series arc, but she did find revenge cropped up
in every story; the carrying motive for the series is her protagonist wanting
to find out what happened to her friend who’d been in an abusive relationship.
Neville didn’t set out to write revenge , but felt the motivation of the
protagonist was almost always about the self-worth of the aggressive male
killer. Wiley felt the strongest impulse to revenge was connected with
children. Stone said that revenge was only a temporary solution for the
character – if they reach that, then what? Also, if a character is out for
revenge then they’re painting themself as a victim – they can’t see past their
anger to reality, and the author has to be aware, and make the reader aware,
that there are other points of view. Heiter agreed that you needed to think
about afterwards – there’s a ripple effect. ‘Revenge is about never giving up,’
Schepp said, and described her own revenge on the publishers who didn’t bother
to read her submission; she decided to do it on her own, and in six months she
was Sweden’s most successful self-published author.
Asked
about their favourite revenge films, Neville went for Get Carter, Heiter and Wiley went for Hamlet, and Stone and Schepp agreed on 9 to 5.
An
audience member asked about turning a personal story into a revenge tale, and
Stone advised her to get lots of advice, and make sure the bad guy is nuanced –
and change the details so it really isn’t recognisable. After that there was a
discussion of killing methods, and the panel agreed that revenge was about
putting the other person into a position of powerlessness. Was revenge best
served cold? – Stone felt there was a difference between her two revenge
stories, in that one was the avenger acting in emotion, the other was plotting,
and the authors agreed that the villain of the story was more likely to be cold
and calculating, not the protagonist. The level of revenge, they felt was
driven by the characters and genre.
Another
audience member asked how the authors put themselves into the mindset of a
revenger. Neville said he used true life experience from the Irish Troubles.
His 2007 book was based on events in Belfast at the time, with the Stourmont
agreement, and old prisoners released – many people felt that justice was
affected for expediency, there was a lot of anger at men with blood on their
hands being given highly-paid positions. He mentioned the ‘Nothing Squad’, an
IRA torture squad for suspected informers, and the head of it turned out to be
the biggest informer they had, who’d betrayed them completely – but you had to
remember that every villain was the hero of his own story, and you had to see
the world through his eyes. Heiter and Schepp agreed that empathy with their
characters was important. Stone said she was always fascinated by infidelity,
the way women project their anger on the other woman who ‘led him astray’
instead of looking at the man and their own lives.
The
panel ended with the authors telling us about their WIP.
After
lunch I went to Juliet Grames’ panel on ‘Cultural Immersion: mysteries steeped
in different cultures’, with Shannon Baker, R.J. Harlick, Lisa Leiberman, Gigi
Pandian and Susan Spann. Baker’s series are set in the wilds of Nebraska, where
the cattle to people ratio is 50:1, and there’s one law enforcement officer for
a huge area. Harlick’s series is set in the wilds of Quebec, among the First
Nation people; Lieberman’s series is set in 1950s England, but she talked
particularly about her latest book, set in 1960s Hungary. Pandian’s detective
is a present-day professor exploring mysteries to do with missing artefacts
from colonial history, and Spann’s mysteries are set in sixteenth-century
Japan.
This
fascinating discussion covered the different jurisprudence systems in each
country, the difficulty of avoiding cultural appropriation, the way an outsider
can see a culture differently, and the importance of research. I left the room
wanting to read the books of every author on the panel.
Grames
began by commenting that these novels weren’t just stories, or even armchair
travel; each series involved a totallly different jurisprudence system. Crime
was different in every culture – the morality behind it, the motivation, how it
was committed, how the perp was caught and punished. Baker described her law
enforcement officer; he had nobody to report to, and one weekend off each
month, when a travelling deputy covered. A Nebraska sheriff was elected for
four years, and had twelve months after being elected to take a twelve week
course at the Police Academy. Spann explained that medieval Japan had two
systems of justice. The Samurai had a very rigid honour system; a blod feud
would kill one person from each family; a duel killed only one person. Women
could also be samurai, but they used a different set of weapons, unless they
were an only daughter brought up as a son. However for everyone else, there was
a complete system of police, judge, courts, different for each cultural
setting, which she reflected in her books. Pandian said her novels focused on
theft, and how different cultures deal with their history – what constitutes a
treasure: age, money value, knowledge rather than an artefact? Lieberman spoke
of 1960s Budapest where a crime was defined by the authorities – for example,
poetry was forbidden, as it meant the mind was not restrained by the state. It
was a crime to think for yourself; by contrast, spying and informing on others
were encouraged. Harlick described the work of the Royal Canadian Mounted
Police in the North West territories among the close communities of the First
Nations. She was particularly impressed by the court authorities who went out of
their way to help a young woman who was tried by video conference for assault
on a bad boyfriend. There was also community justice among the First Nation
people.
Grames’
next question looked at cultural appropriation, and the use of cultural objects
without context – who has the right to write about what culture? Spann felt it
was really important to get details right. She’d done twenty years of research
now, and her biggest compliment was when a Japanese critic named hers as the
only accurate books written by a non-Japanese person. She preferred to write
from the perspective of a character, but that was no excuse for getting details
wrong - if she wasn’t sure she had a detail correct, she’d cut it. Baker said
the Hopi, featured in her books, were the oldest and poorest tribe, but
believed they were responsible for the balance of the world. Their youth drain
meant they could no longer do their ceremonies, and the white people stole their
kachina masks to put in museums. She’d asked a Hopi elder about their secret
ceremonies, and he replied simply, ‘If you know it, it’s not a secret.’
Leiberman
spoke about how an outsider can see the stories a country likes to tell about
itself; in Hungary, on National Day, the remembrance of a defeat in 1848, she
felt there was a narrative of victimhood. In the same way, the town museum
tells stories of torture, with the emphasis of ‘the Germans / Soviets made us
do it’. She recounted how in one village she’d visited there had been a wealthy
Jewish population. In 1944, with the Hungarina Iron Clad soldiers helping the
Nazis, they were herded into their beautiful synagogue and kept there without
food or water for three days before being loaded into trucks and taken to
Auschwitz. None returned. She visited the restored synagogue – ‘I felt I
couldn’t breathe in there’, and found afterwards that local people were
avoiding her. Those people had materially benefited from the Jews being taken,
and feared accusations.
Pandian
agreed with Spann about the importance of research: ‘Always talk to other
people, seek out people who know before you visit the place, do a fact check,
and ask them to look at the book afterwards – I had one thing which I was told
was technically correct, but just not done.’ Harlick said there was very little
written about the Algonquin people. They met their first Europeans in 1700 –
now almost nobody speaks the native language, and they’ve started cultural
schools to raise the visibility of the native cultures. All the bad things
we’ve done are becoming apparent – the Hida people were reduced from 30,000 to
2,000 by disease. She did her research by talking to people of that culture,
and asking them to check her books. She mentioned the scandal of the
residential schools of the 40s and 50s, which took children from their tribes
for six to seven years, to be immersed in the ‘superior culture’, and the
impact that had on the families. She didn’t want to preach, but to expose what
had been done.
This
was a fascinating panel which left me wanting to read the books of every author
on it.
My
next panel, at 3.30, was the Canadian Panel, moderated by Kevin Burton Smith,
and starring ex-pat authors Hilary Davidson, Paul E Hardisty, Jennifer Hillier,
Ausma Zehanat Khan and David Morrell.
This
panel began by discussing the ‘Canadian persepctive’ in their very different
work, then looked at some Canada / US differences. They agreed that Canada
wasn’t ‘dull’ but felt that the ‘nice’ image wasn’t altogether true either;
there were some things people preferred not to look at. This was a very
interesting discussion which shed light on how Canadians see themselves.
They
launched straight into the question of the writers’ Canadian perspective.
Hillier felt that in spite of Canada’s ‘nice’ image, she was with Margaret
Atwood – the flag wasn’t a maple leaf, it was a bloodstain on snow. Hardisty
had spent time in war zones, and felt the theme of social justice came out in
his books – they were so lucky to have that in Canada. His Canadian perspective
was a sense of bewilderment and shock. Khan and Davidson agreed on the
multi-culturalism of Canada, and the way different peoples mix – ‘In my New
York block,’ Davidson said, ‘the residents are all white, and the staff all
black.’ Hardisty felt Canadians were very polite – he’d seen a sign saying please
don’t use airbrakes. It was like the Jesuits, saying if you had a child till he
was six he was yours for life – people raised in Canada were more civil, more
peaceable, it made you see the US in a different way from how they see
themselves. Davidson agreed – she felt the US were more US focused, where
Canadians were Brits with American accents, and more aware of the rest of the
world – it was a small population for the size of the country, but it included
people from all over the world. ‘Canada’s the home of the pre-emptive apology,’
Hardisty said. ‘Australians think that’s the craziest thing.’
Burton
Smith mentioned US weather maps, which stop at the 49th parallel –
‘which is why most Americans think Vermont has a sea coast ...’ then moved on
to ask if there was a common thread to Canadian crime fiction. Davidson felt
that in the 1920s, the heydey of invincible hard-boiled American PIs, writers
like Ross MacDonald had his hero damaged in many ways – he was more sensitive
to the nuance of characters, and aware of the wear and tear on the bodies and
psyche of people who deal in crime, from witnesses to law enforcement officers.
Morell felt that being an outsider in the US gave him a different perspective.
He said that in 1966 nobody in Canada knew anything about Vietnam, and he
wanted to know, and so went to the US, but found himself watching events there
with a foreign horror – there were hundreds
of riots, he expected Civil War, and fighting in the street such that photos of
America and Vietnam could be confused – in his novel of a returning Nam Vet,
the conflict with the police is a mirror of what he saw happening. He also saw
how the 1967 Expo in Montreal was the first time Canadians became proud of
Canadian culture and literature – that was a big change.
Burton
Smith asked about little things that caused authors problems when they were
writing. Khan said she was born in England, and the first thing her editors did
was take out u from words like colour and change s to z. Hillier had had
difficulties translating the Canadian AA – ‘it ended up roadside assistance’
and in the States, Catholic schools were private, not state-funded. Davidson
had had no end of teasing in her New York newspaper office about her accent,
but took credit for introducing the term ‘snorky’ (elegant, well-dressed) to
the US. As a journalist writing for different clients, she was consious of
using her American or Canadian voice. Hardisty’s books are set in exotic
locations, and his protagonist was South American – but he tried not to use the
word ‘deek’ (to fake an opponent out of position, in ice hockey). Ah, ice
hockey, Burton Smith said, did anyone use it? Yes, Khan said, her main
character was a keen supporter of the Maple Leafs, so there was a lot of hockey
in her books.
The
first audience question wondered if panellists had any idea why Canadian crime
wasn’t more popular in the US. Hardisty felt it was an image thing – ‘Canada’s
seen as dull, whereas Nordic Noir is huge because that’s seeen as sexy.’
Hillier agreed Canadians weren’t exotic enough and Davidson felt that there was
an appetite for stories set in other places; Americans felt Canada was too
similar. Morrell thought that the cultural underpinnings of Canadian novels
were different from those of the US – the US self-image had immigrants coming
together in this melting pot to create a new world, ‘whereas Canada,’ Burton
Smith said, ‘was more like a stir-fry.’ One big difference between the US and
Canada for writers, Davidson said, was that Canadian authors get royalties from
libraries, and you’re paid for Arts Festivals – in the US there’s just not the
support or funding for authors.
Loooking
at the idea of Canada as ‘dull’, the panel recalled the horror felt at the trial
of a couple who snatched children, and the Montreal massacre – ‘it’s not
supposed to happen in Canada.’ Hardisty made the point that ‘it can’t happen
here’ is all relative – society everywhere is now casually inured to violence
through constant exposure to it. Davidson felt we needed to know how to deal
with mentally ill people. The previous treatment was appalling, but then
patients were emptied into the streets. She had experienced an ill veteran
who’d tried to set fire to their office. It was a hideous experience, ‘but a
reminder that we don’t like to look at the homeless or mentally ill – it’s a
conversation we need to have.’
I
found this a really interesting discussion on what Canadians feel is special
about their persepective, and the way they see themselves.
Friday
evening kicked off with an International Reception, where Cathy Ace, current
president of Crime Writers of Canada, introduced us to an impressive line of
former presidents, including the association’s first president from thirty-five
years ago, Tony Aspier. After that guests from Australia, England, Finland,
France, Iceland, Japan, Norway, Scotland, Singapore, South Africa and Thailand
were invited up on stage to be presented with a blue ribbon labelling them
‘from a far away land.’
That
was followed by a splendid banquet hosted by the Wolfe Pack, then the Noisy
Auction, which raised funds for Frontier College, a Canadina Literary
Organization founded over a century ago. After that, publishers Atria and Simon
& Schuster invited all attendees to ‘dessert and cocktails’ in the Grand
Foyer, and a very tempting spread of cakes it was too, along with a chance to
chat to fellow-attendees until the tables were needed for the Pub Quiz,
organised and hosted by the Crime Writers of Canada.
My
first Saturday panel was ‘Critters of Crime’, moderated by Michael Kurland,
looking at ‘K-9s, cats and cows – and their role in mysteries’ with authors Jen
J. Danna / Sara Driscoll, Janet Finsliver, Margaret Mizushima, Kelly Oliver and
Eileen F. Watkins.
The
authors began by describing their animals, and what role they played in the
novel, then broadened this to look at ways animals could expand plot and give
different dimensions to characters. I had been rather put off animals-in-crime
books by a bad example of the genre, but this discussion made me want to read
these authors’ books, which sounded much more interesting and realistic.
Kurland
began by asking the authors why an animal, and what it did in their books.
Finsilver had read an article about a dog trained to detect cancer, and she
uses different animals in each book to show what animals can do. She also felt
their interaction with humans was interesting, and could add humour. Danna /
Driscoll’s agent had suggested a PP with canine interest, and she writes about
a variety of dog handlers – the black labrador is her own dog. Mizushima is
married to a veterinarian, and has always had dogs; her husband’s practice
included clients with patrol and protect dogs, so she wanted both a vet and a
canine handler in her stories. Her dog is a German Shepherd called Robo, and
she wanted to show the variety of work trained dogs can do.
Oliver
talked about what different roles animals can play in a novel. Her anitmal
titles are metaphorical, and she can also use animals to show a character’s
more sensitive side. Her third novel centres on an animal research lab, and she
shows the compassionate side of one researcher. Watkins had always had cats,
and bonded closely with them. Her agent suggested a series about a cat groomer
who solves mysteries, and researching this led her to create a character who
both grooms and boards cats, giving her a chance to interact with the owners
too – there’s not just one cat ‘catalyst’ (audience applause) for all the
plots, which have fun titles like The
Persian always miaows twice, Feral Attraction, and Bengal Identity.
The
challenges of books with animals? Finsilver said she had to keep thinking about
balancing the plot with the animals, particularly keeping minor characters and
their pets active during a series. Danna//Driscoll said that in her series, she
needed scenarios for the different sorts of trained dogs – some look for dead
victims, some living etc. Mizushima felt it was important to keep the dog’s
abilities real. Robo was based on a real dog, an exceptional one who’d won a
number of annual police dog trials, so she showed him using those skills.
Oliver said you had to look after the animals; it wasn’t good to have a
detective who was out all day, leaving his dog alone in his flat – Finsilver
said she’d once had a reader letter pointing out that in the whole book the pet
had never been fed! The lifespan of animals, all agreed, was also an issue.
Watkins said there were no feline units, but you could use cats to provide
clues, and they can be in danger – for example used as prey in dog fights.
Other
challenges, all agreed, were that the pet had to play a key role, and not just
be a sideline, and, of course, the animals had to stay alive! Mizushima found
this a difficulty with her veterinarian character, who does see sick animals.
Fensilver said animals played so many roles in our imagination; the canine
titles of her books – Wolf, Fox, Coyote -
are metaphors for the villains. Thinking of realism, Oliver felt the
problem was the other way round – animals are such a part of our lives that
books without them risked being unrealistic. All agreed that they wanted their
animal characters to be real animals, not furry humans, and avoided this by
keeping to the human characters’ points of view.
All
the authors agreed that having an animal around influences human characters.
Watkins felt the way their owners treat them is a clue to character, which can
tip the reader off to motive, and her cat groomer’s contact with the local
veterinarian gave a love interest. Finsilver and Oliver felt they could show
the human side of tough characters; for Denna / Driscoll, handler dogs were an
integral part of their owner’s life, a limb, a partner, a best friend ... they
became a bonded team. Mizushima felt animals lent credibility to why her vet
character was in that work. Her canine handler was a damaged person with trust
issues, and was learning to trust Robo as a partner.
I
had been rather put off animals-in-crime books by a bad example of the genre,
but this discussion made me want to read these authors’ books, which sounded
much more interesting and realistic.
I
follwed this discussion with the packed event on ‘Standalones’, chaired by
Craig Sisterson, and featuring ‘Authors who do not write series, or who stopped
doing series, or who do them as well as a series.’ The panel included local boy
Linwood Barclay, David Bell, Michael Bracken, Kathy Reichs and Kate White.
This
was a very relaxed panel with a number of jokes, so entertaining as well as interesting
to get an insight on writing standalones and series from such prestigious
authors. Topics included setting, research, how a standalone can freshen your
series as well as reaching a new audience, and TV / film spin-offs.
Sisterson
began by asking the authors why each had done their first standalone. Barclay
said he’d done a series of four comic thrillers, which had collectively sold
about 83 copies, and his agent suggested something different. He’d tried
several ideas, and had them turned down, when he woke up at 5am with this one:
suppose a teenage girl woke up to find her entire family gone? He sent his
agent that at 8.30, and got a reply five minutes later – ‘Great! So what
happened?’ ‘I’ve no idea...’ Barclay confessed, but his agent wasn’t worried:
‘You’ll figure it out!’ White also had a standalone suggested by her publisher
– her books were selling, but a standalone could fuel a series sales as well as
bringing in a new audience. She found it hard initially – she knew her own
character and setting – but had to go out and research something different,
which she felt re-energised her writing. Reichs also was encouraged to do a
standalone by her publisher, and was also resistant, but then she enjoyed
creating her heroine and liked the idea of her persuing a case for personal
reasons – ‘before I knew it, I was writing the book.’
Sisterson
suggested that a missing person is a great hook, and worse than murder for the
people involved, because of the uncertainty, and Bell agreed. His novels are
all standalones, but the series theme is disappearances, which are more
open-ended – is the missing person unable to come back, or just not wanting to?
The mind fills in blanks by imagining what’s happened. Barclay felt the ‘what
if’ was the elevator pitch, and Bell said it brought out the little kid in him:
‘What if you had a pirate in a submarine in space...?’ You have to write a
character who will sustain the book and answer the question.
Bracken
felt that series novels can become like MacDonald’s – the clients know what to
expect, and the burgers are always the same. He didn’t want, as a writer, to
keep repeating himself. Also, it’s hard to maintain protagonist changes over a
series – a standalone gave you a chance to keep fresh. However the authors
agreed that they did leave the opportunity for a standalone to become a series,
if they wanted – Barclay had brought back the characters of No time to say goodbye in another book,
but only one. The series was the town, not the characters. Returning to
disappearances, he felt they could only be standalones – otherwise you’d be
asking, ‘Which relative will go next?” It was a big stake issue – a missing
person is as big as it goes.
Sisterton
asked how the authors went about building a new world for each book. Bell felt
he wrote about the same kinds of places, a small to middle-sized town, not
based on any one place, so that he could add whatever he needed. The more he
wrote, he felt, the more ideas he had, but he did stick to a blue-collar
middle-class milieu. It was the characters who told him what to write. Reichs
was enjoying a new character who was completely different from the cerebral,
professional Tempe: ‘she’s got a completely different set of street skills, and
guns – it’s great fun.’
There
was a short discussion of the need for balance, comercially speaking; White
felt you couldn’t have too long a gap in a series, and Reichs agreed – you had
to keep your series readers with you, and you had to keep in the world of your
series as well, by not leaving too long. Authors also agreed that writing a
standalone could help bring you back fresh to your series, and remind you of
the important blocks of storytelling, plot and pace – you see all the fresh
bang and twists in the standalone, White said, and that reminds you to create
those elements in the series. ‘A series can be comfort level,’ Oliver said,
‘you need to make sure that each book is just as compelling as a standalone.’
Barclay felt he learned from every book – and made a new mistake each time.
Barclay
said he got the hook first, the ‘what if’ then looked at the circumstances of
that ‘what if’ to create his characters. The authors agreed you had more
freedom to put your character in jeapordy in a stand-alone – a series character
can’t die, but a standalone one might, so you could create tension with that.
Also, Reichs added, you don’t have to keep checking back for details of your
character.
So,
Sisterson asked, you’ve got your hook – how important is setting? Hugely
important, White replied; she’d spend a month sitting in a cafe just playing
with ideas. ‘Hang on,’ Barclay interposed, ‘was that sitting or setting?’ Setting, New Zealander Sisterson
emphasised, amid laughter. Reichs said she was familiar with all her ‘sittings’
– she had to know a place, the sense of how it smelled and sounded. Bracken had
lived in multiple states, and was now in Texas; he liked to have been to a
place, and to build relationships with other writers so that information could
be traded. Barclay said he tended to go for a self-contained place that could
hold the action, but like Bell, he preferred it not to be real, so that he had
more freedom. In his head, he admitted, Promise Falls, NY, was Peterborough,
Ontario. A small place, Bell added, where everyone knows each other, and so almost
everyone will be tangentially affected by the murder. White’s books are set in
NY, where she lives, but she tries to research a place, then go there – she had
one book set on Islamorada, Florida, and the only detail she added once she’d
been there was a gecko on a tree. Bracken pointed out that you could write off
research travel against tax!
How
did readers respond to stand-alones vs series? Reichs said that people bought
it, and the feedback was positive – she added that when ‘Bones’ went first on air,
there was a negative feedback to the books, because they were different. White
said she had a letter most weeks from a reader saying they’d checked out the
standalone, but when would there be another Bailey? But you were bringing in a
different readership – it was a tricky balancing act. Barclay spoke of the need
to wrap up each book – he’d had annoyed reactions from people who felt the
stories in his trilogy were unfinished.
The
final audience question asked how much control did authors have, and want to
have, over sales to TV or film? Reichs said it depends on the contract; she’d
had several offers for a Tempe Brennan series, none of them right, until she
finally met this producer. They agreed she would have input, though not control
– yes, their Tempe was younger and taller, but she wanted a character-based
show with humour, and she felt they’d achieved that. You needed to understand,
going in, what you were agreeing to. Barclay said he just wanted the money! Tom
Cruise as Jack Reacher wouldn’t stop him reading the books ... just don’t watch
the movie.
This
was a very relaxed panel with a number of jokes, so entertaining as well as
interesting to get an insight on writing standalones and series from such
prestigious authors.
Saturday
evening included a repeat of the Ghost Walk, the launch and signing of the 2017
Bouchercon Anthology, and dancing to the big band sound of the Advocats.
It
wasn’t over yet. The 20-on-20 sessions began at eight am on Sunday morning, and
the first panels were at 08.30. I was on ‘Reviewers recommend’, moderated by
Judy Penz Sheluk, and in the distinguished company of this year’s Fan Guest of
Honour, Margaret Cannon of the Toronto
Globe and Mail, Andrew Gulli of Strand
magazine, Erica Ruth Neubauer of Publishers
Weekly and Crimespree, and Steve
Steinbock of Ellery Queen’s Mystery
Magazine. The piles of over 200 books a month they described made me feel
an amateur with my 4-6 reviews monthly; on the other hand, I was the only
panellist who really did plough right through even the worst book before
reviewing it. We all agreed our greatest joy was to open a book, read the first
page or two, and think, ‘This person knows what they’re doing – I’m going to
enjoy this!’ Our greatest frustrations were poor editing, where a decent book
was struggling to get out, and would have, with more help. Who did we review?
Not the big names, Cannon said, they don’t need my advertisement. Gulli’s
column was often themed, so he’d bring in relevant authors. He agreed that yes,
it was hard for authors not published by the ‘Big 5’ to get reviews, but said
that if small publishers could produce an eye-catching cover and a good title,
yes, he’d look at it – after that, it was up to the author to hook him. Did we
‘pan’ books? Yes, Cannon said, if they deserved it, and she didn’t care how
famous the author was, or how much other reviewers liked the book – and no, we
generally didn’t read other people’s reviews before writing our own. Our own
favourite book, from any genre, was a hard one – ‘You’re asking me to choose
between my grandchildren!’ This panel began with a small audience, but people
arrived during the session to give us a full house, and they seemed to enjoy
the discussion.
The
Anthony Brunch began at eleven, and was followed by the Anthony Award Ceremony.
The award for Best First Novel went to Jo Ide for IQ, Mulholland Press; Best Paperback Original was James W Ziskin, How to kill friends and implicate people,
Thomas & Mercer; the Best Short Story went to American Guest of Honour,
Megan Abbott, for Oxford Girl in Missippi
Noir, Akashic. Tbe Best Young Adult Novel was given to April Henry for The Girl I used to Be, Henry Holt; the
Best Anthology went to the Bouchercon Anthology 2016, Blood on the Bayou, edited by Greg Herren for Down & Out. The Best Critical Non-Fiction
Work was awarded to Ruth Franklin for Shirley
Jackson: A rather haunted Life, Liveright, and the Best Novella went to to
B.K. Stevens for The Last Blue Glass:
Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, April 2016; Dell. Finally the big
award for Best Novel was presented by Margaret Cannon to the Canadian Guest of
Honour, Louise Penny.
That
was it... a final speech from the joint chairs of this year’s co-chairs, Janet
Costello and Helen Norton, thanking all the fifty-five volunteer members of
their committee, the readers who’d come in such numbers – they felt it was a
readers’ conference – and the writers who’d come from all over the world to
meet them. The next Bouchercon will be held in St Petersburg, Florida, from
September 6-9th, with big names like Karin Slaughter, Sean
Chercover, Sara Blaedel, Mark Billingham and Ian Rankin already signed up.
Booking is open now!
Marsali Taylor grew up
near Edinburgh, and came to Shetland as a newly-qualified teacher. She is
currently a part-time teacher on Shetland's scenic west side, living with her
husband and two Shetland ponies. Marsali is a qualified STGA tourist-guide who is
fascinated by history, and has published plays in Shetland's distinctive
dialect, as well as a history of women's suffrage in Shetland. She's also a
keen sailor who enjoys exploring in her own 8m yacht, and an active member of
her local drama group. Marsali also does
a regular monthly column for the Mystery People e-zine.
A review of her recent book Ghosts of the Vikings can be read here.
www.marsalitaylor.co.uk
What a thorough review! It was indeed a great conference, and I am looking forward to the St. Petersburg event.
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