I now have a signed vacation slip for Bouchercon this September—I don’t have to cancel my registration and reservations or plan to call in sick. I’m on the list.
And what a list it is!
If you’re planning to attend, I’ll be the one squinting at people’s badges and gasping and telling them who they are:
“You’re Bill Cameron!”
“You’re Laurie King!”
“You’re Lillian Fischer Hellman!”
“You’re Suzy Townsend!”
“You’re Barbara Poelle!”
“You’re Janet Reid!” (I may genuflect at this point)
“You’re Max Allan Collins!”
“This is your wife, Barbara Collins!”
“You’re Gary Corby!”
“You’re . . .” (faints from lack of oxygen)
For those of you who are now rethinking your plans to attend—or thinking of alerting hotel security—I promise to comport myself with as much dignity and grace as possible (had to happen sometime) and not bother anyone too much with the gasping and the naming and the squeeing.
Now, all I have to do is figure out how I’m getting there (I’m thinking train) and what I’m going to wear (I’m thinking clothes).
Anyone else going?
Earful of Cider 