It’s Time to Leave the Attic

I don’t know if it was the lengthy winter, the snow day we had yesterday, or just a general cabin fever that made me do something I never thought I’d do: sign up to go to two conferences. I admire my intrepid Stiletto co-bloggers; it seems that they are all headed somewhere all the time, while I sit in my attic week after week, content to work from dawn until dusk. But during the snow day yesterday, surrounded by husband, children, and canine companion, I decided that it was time to get out of the house and do something related to my mystery writing. (I do plenty related to my day job and those things seem to be eating up all of my time.) So, I consulted with the Northern half of Evelyn David and signed up for Deadly Ink in Parsippany, New Jersey, and Malice Domestic in Washington, D.C.

I used to travel a lot for the job I used to have, way back in the ‘90s. And I have traveled plenty for pleasure after leaving that job. But I haven’t traveled for “work” except to go to a presentation in Tennessee back in October—and that included one of my best friends as my travel companion. I used to attend at least four or five conventions when I worked outside of the house and when I say I knew everybody who attended those conventions, that’s only a bit of an exaggeration. Between all of my colleagues from work, and friends I had made at competing companies, and the authors I worked with, I knew just about everybody at a specific convention. What scares me about signing up for the two conventions is that I’ll only know one person (the Northern half of Evelyn David) out of everyone who’s attending. And that scares the bejesus out of me.

I’m not a shrinking violet by any stretch of the imagination but when I think about attending a convention where I only know one person (who has her own books to promote and won’t have time to hold my hand for 48 hours), I imagine that everyone knows everyone else and I’ll just be by myself the whole time. Intellectually, I know this won’t be the case. And as my husband always reminds me, “you can talk a dog off a meat wagon.” I’m not sure what that means, exactly, but I think he’s telling me that I won’t lack for conversation or companionship. I also think he’s referring to my ability to find out the life story of everyone I come into contact with. That ought to help me, right?

So, dear readers: will you let me know if you’re going to be at either of these conventions? And, if so, can I charge one of you with making sure that I’m not holed up in my room with Pay-per-view and the room service menu?