This means that if you're on a blog reader you have to click through. Go ahead. Done? Now follow me. Foooooooolloooooow meeeeeee....
SOOOO I have to come up with a giveaway prize, hence the reference to mystery. Because I have no idea what it should be. Something crafty plus a book, I'm thinking. It may have to be a necklace + earrings and a book, because I don't have time to knit something by the time I post my 100th. Perhaps it could be a promise to knit something?
Anyway (watch in awe as I do a brilliant segue) I met some MYSTERY writers last night, at an event arranged by my wonderful local library to chime in with the Love is Murder conference.
Which I should have been spending me $$$ on instead of these.
I haven't actually bought them yet but Oh my. And it's all Texas Shelley's fault for talking about Western boots on Facebook.
Oh yeah, sorry, I was talking about writers. These were three I've never read: Rhys Bowen (whom I really warmed to because she's also a Brit
stuck resident in the US), Tasha Alexander, and F. Paul Wilson. They were all charming and entertaining, and worked their way very graciously through the INEVITABLE questions about where they get their ideas from and so on.
I don't go to a ton of writer talks because of those inevitable questions. Seriously, if you're already a writer you know that ideas just sort of happen. And when people start asking things like do you need an agent, I start murmuring internally about doing some research, I mean come on, there are a BAZILLION blogs and websites that tell you about this stuff.
Anyway, like I said they were nice, and I bought one of their books each to get me started. Conveniently provided by a local indie bookstore, Lake Forest Books, and I really ought to go there more often. Like many
hypocrites people, I'm always complaining about the lack of small bookstores in our area, but I'd rather hop on you-know-where and get my books in five minutes than actually, y'know, go anywhere.
So, I bought A Royal Pain, And Only To Deceive, and The Tomb. The last one is more Felsted's kind of book than mine, but I'll read it anyway.
And talking of Felsted, I think I just committed a Matrimonial Faux Pas. Felsted has gone forth to buy bread for dinner, and I got this phone call five minutes ago:
Felsted: "Just calling to give you an ETA."
Me: "K. Not really necessary."
Felsted: "I'm nearly at the top of the hill."
Me: "Oh, just turn around and come home. You don't have to wait ages in traffic just to get bread. You just called to make me feel bad about wanting bread. You're in Martyr Mode."
Felsted: "No I'm not. I just didn't want you to be worried."
Me: "I wasn't worried. I'm blogging."
Felsted [after a two-second silence, in a deadpan voice] "Oh. All right. Bye."
So I suppose I'd better go get the table ready and prepare to eat the Bread of Contrition.
I think I started this post meaning to talk about books. Well, I'll review all three in due course. Perhaps I'm scatterbrained because I'm hungry.