So apparently there's this thing you're supposed to do after a con, where you write about what you did and saw and learned and so on.
I'm back from KillerCon, and mostly what I know is I'm tired and caught a cold. Or maybe my body is still trying to expel the 100,000 pounds of cigarette smoke it absorbed in the casinos of Las Vegas. Vegas is a fun place to visit, but if there were a nonsmoking casino, that's where my money would be spent. You listening, casino magnates? I'm talking about bets in the $0.25 range, sometimes. Serious dough.
Amazingly enough, most of KillerCon itself took place off the casino floors. It was a really fun convention, filled with great people who I see too rarely, friends like Misty Dahl and Mercedes Yardley and Bill Gagliani and Mike Arnzen and Christopher Rice and David Schow and Rena Mason and Rain Graves and so many more.
Of course, part of the fun is meeting new people, which I did on the panel I moderated, Crime Writing for Non-Crime Writers.
The panelists here are Nikki Hopeman, my writing partner and dear friend Marsheila Rockwell, me, Mike McCarty, and Thor, whose last name I forgot, but is a 20-year veteran homicide detective on the Burbank CA PD and brought some hard authenticity to the proceedings.
It wasn't all nose-to-the-grindstone, though. There were also fun excursions, including shopping at the John Varvatos store at the Forum Shops at Caesar's. Here I am in the amazing jacket I couldn't afford to buy, but for which they wouldn't accept either of my children in trade. If anybody's looking for gift ideas, gift cards here (in amounts beginning at $2500) would be greatly appreciated.
Photo by Marcy Rockwell
KillerCon is a con for working horror writers, but it's also a kind of family affair, and it doesn't take long to become part of the family. I'm glad I got to go back, and look forward to the next time.