I’m shamefully bad at self-promotion. In fact I’m much more comfortable singing somebody else’s praises than I am my own − I would’ve made a lousy peacock and/or motivational speaker. I just want to sit all alone in my little room and write my little books. Then I want a magical combination of telekinesis and word-of-mouth to let the masses know that they want to read them. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that. (If Pixar or Disney comes out with a motivational-speaking peacock next year, I expect a royalty check.)
This past weekend, at the 25th anniversary of Malice Domestic, I had lots of opportunities for self-promotion. I was the moderator for a panel that included Carole Nelson Douglas (a past Malice Domestic Guest of Honor), Laurie King (this year’s Guest of Honor), Felix Francis (international best-selling author), and Joanna Campbell Slan (whose written more books than I have years, and that’s saying something). I could have had my picture taken with all of them. Did I do that? No. I had lunch with Catriona McPherson (this year’s Edgar Award winner for Best Historical Novel) and Donna Andrews (whose list of literary awards takes an afternoon to read through). Did I have my picture taken with them? No.
Did I even think of having my picture taken with them? Yes, just now as I’m writing this.
Here I am with Felix Francis. We were so amused that we’d worn the same tie that day.
Here I am with Laurie King… don’t know where my head was at when I got dressed that morning.
And finally here I am with Catriona McPherson (she wouldn’t allow me to sit at her table, so this is as good as it gets.)