JABBER-WALKING PART TWO

by Steven Steinbock

When we left off last week, I had left off my narrative with James Lincoln Warren and myself at Penn Station boarding the Express train Washington, DC. It was Friday, April 29. I feel a little like a character from a Mark Twain adventure – Innocents Abroad or Roughing It. Except between James and me, I’m not sure which of us is supposed to be Tom, and which one Huck.

Travelling tip #86. When attending conferences where you’re likely to accumulate lots of books and other swag, pack light, but use a good sized suitcase. The real trick is to pack an extra empty carry-on. Pick something lightweight but easy to carry, maybe a small duffel bag. Pack the empty bag inside the suitcase. When you get to the end of your voyage, pack most of the books, well-packed amidst the laundry, in the suitcase which you will check at the airport. (Make sure you don’t go over fifty pounds). Then put your dirty laundry and whatever else won’t fit in the suitcase into your duffel bag. Bring it aboard as a carry-on along with your briefcase, purse, or other “personal item.”

The train was packed. James and I managed to find two seats across the aisle from each other. We were both very tired from the previous night’s Edgar events, but I don’t think either one of us slept aboard the train. Less than three hours later we had pulled in to Union Station in Washington, and were pulling our bags toward the Metro (DC’s subway system).

The Metro ticket machines were conspiring against me. The first two machines I tried wouldn’t take my money. As I mentioned, I was tired, but that had nothing to do with my inability to get the machines to deliver a ticket. James, however, would have none of it. I could tell he was getting impatient with me and was just this side of leaving me at the station.

The third machine, however, worked like a charm. By the time we got onto the train to Bethesda, James had forgotten – or at least forgiven – my ineptitude. We came up from the Metro station in Bethesda and found our hotel just a couple dozen yards away.

After checking into my room and signing in at the Malice Domestic registration table, I found Douglas Greene, the founder and publisher of Crippen and Landru books, and the man responsible for introducing me to mystery fandom. But that’s another story.

The Malice opening ceremonies began around 5pm. Then, after a few hours later, James gathered a group of us to go to a little French bistro a few blocks away. The group included Sandra Brannan and Nora McFarland, both of whom saw their first novels published in the previous year, Kate Stine and Brian Skupin (publishers of Mystery Scene Magazine, who incidentally met at a mystery convention, started dating at another mystery convention, and now appear at every mystery convention as husband and wife, living testaments to the genial nature of mystery conventions), Doug Greene, James Lincoln Warren, of course, and me. We had a wonderful meal which, by some miraculous series of events that still remain inexplicable, ended up being paid for by itself. What happened to our bill remains a mystery, but the maitre d’ said it was taken care of.

Saturday, April 30.

I’ve probably said it before in my columns, but of all the reasons I attend mystery conventions, listening to panels is not high on my list. It’s not that I don’t have anything new to learn, but frankly I’d rather be socializing with friends or drooling over the books I can’t afford. But on this particular Malice morning, there were multiple sessions I wanted to catch. I got up early to catch a short story panel featuring all five of the Agatha Award nominees for Best Short Story. Then at 10:15, James Lincoln Warren moderated a panel that asked the questions Do amateur sleuths really help the police in real life? and How do we justify it in our fiction? It was an entertaining and well-run panel. (Throughout it, James was rearranging and reshuffling the stack of index cards he’d prepared, containing notes and questions, and maintaining good natured confidence throughout.

At the Agatha Banquet that evening, each table was hosted by a different author. I was seated with Elizabeth Zelvin, who has had a number of stories published in Ellery Queen, including two featuring a young Jewish midshipman trying to hide his religion aboard Columbus’s Santa Maria. Her story “The Green Cross” was nominated for an Agatha.

Speaking of crews, we had a great crew aboard our table, including most of the group from the previous night (Nora McFarland, Sandra Brannan, Doug Greene, and James Lincoln Warren) as well as Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine editor Linda Landrigan. Here’s a photo of Linda, Elizabeth Zelvin, and Doug, with Linda displaying a copy of Liz’s story:

After the banquet, several hundred of us retired to the bar. John Curran, the author of Agatha Christie’s Secret Notebooks (winner of the Agatha for Best Critical Work) was with us all the way from Dublin. After determining the time-difference, he decided he’d have to wait until morning to text the news to his friends back in Ireland. Here’s a photo of me, Caroline Todd (aka Charles Todd), and James Lincoln Warren.

Sunday, May 1.

Art Taylor, an old friend who writes for Mystery Scene and has had a number of stories published in Ellery Queen, moderated a morning panel called “Keeping it Real: When Real People Become Fictional Characters.” The panel included my friend and fellow magi Dan Stashower, who has written several novels featuring Harry Houdini.

At 2:30 celebrants gathered in the ballroom for the Agatha Tea and Closing Ceremonies. At the front of the room on easy chairs set up on a dais, Caroline Todd was interviewing John Curran about his experiences at Christie’s Devonshire estate, Greenway House, going through her papers, sitting in her chair, and discovering the box of hand-written “secret notebooks” that provide a glimpse into her creative life.

It was remarkable that throughout the interview, every spoon and teacup remained nearly still and silent.

I spent the next few hours getting my own personal interview with John Curran as we talked about crime writers of the Golden Age and compared notes on our book collections.

Then it was time to go home. Malice Domestic program chair Barb Goffman was heading out and going toward the airport and offered to give me a ride. (Thanks, Barb). And so ended another Malicious weekend.