Quite a lot happened after my
return to Bouchercon Sunday evening. I:
– Enjoyed a convivial al fresco dinner overlooking Baltimore's Inner Harbor and moderated by the amazing
Ali Karim. Completing the table were
Brian Lindenmuth;
Sandra Ruttan;
Roger "R.J." Ellory; Jodi Pierce and her husband,
J. Kingston; and
Linda L. Richards. Roger chose the wine, a white meritage called, appropriately,
the Novelist. (
Read Brian's not-to-be missed account
here. You'll almost hear Ali's voice booming off the old warehouses.)
– Returned to the hotel for the
bar-closing noir gabfest described earlier.
(The convivial al fresco dinner. Clockwise from lower left: Ali Karim, me, Linda L. Richards, J. Kingston "Jeff" Pierce, Jodi Pierce, Roger Ellory, Sandra Ruttan, Brian Lindenmuth. Photo courtesy of our waiter.)
– Decided to stay over another night, which led to a post-everything chat with Linda Richards as she waited for her 2 a.m. shuttle to the airport, and to the next day's brief chat with Bouchercon organizers Ruth and Jon Jordan and Judy Bobalik. It was good to be able to thank them for their superb work, and Jon Jordan shed some light on a decision that likely contributed to the event's relaxed, sociable character: Attendees' conference badges identified them simply by name and location. There was no "author," "agent," "editor" and so on. The results will be apparent from the number of ecstatic Bouchercon wrap-ups filling the blogosphere. J. Kingston Pierce offers a welcome guide to those wrap-ups on the
Rap Sheet.
So, whence this post's title? It's from Thursday's "Booze and Crime Fiction" session, which
Ali wrote about in a rundown of Bouchercon's panels:
"They were excellent, even though my first one where I was moderator on 'Booze and Crime Fiction' was somewhat 'controversial', it turned out to be rather good fun, and I must thank my panelists Con Lehane, Michelle Gagnon, Jason Starr, Ken Bruen and Liz Zelvin. All those who thanked me for the panel, remember it was thanks to the Gordon's gin talking."
Therefore it was no surprise when I walked into the
Arnaldur Indriðason party that evening, and Ali offered me a gin and tonic.
(Your humble blogkeeper with Christa Faust, courtesy of Sandra Ruttan.)Finally, the pub quiz. Bouchercon was such a blast, and the organizers did such a superlative job, that I hate to call attention to one microscopic bump. I will say that when a woman with a cane sat down at our table, I asked her if its end was weighted, since I had a target in mind. (And here's a shout-out to my teammate Angie Johnson-Schmit of
In For Questioning, a congenial schmoozing and question-answering companion and one of a dauntingly long list of folks whom it was my absolute pleasure to meet at Bouchercon.)
One of the quiz questions asked each team to draw a hypothetical tattoo for some crime author (I forget which one).
Christa Faust was the captain of our team, though perhaps
mistress would be more appropriate, and she knows a thing or two about tattoos. She drew our team's entry. We lost. Need I say more?
P.S. We didn't win, but I helped our team clean up in the section on international mysteries.
© Peter Rozovsky 2008 
