Showing posts with label International Agatha Christie Festival. Show all posts
Showing posts with label International Agatha Christie Festival. Show all posts

Saturday, November 11, 2023

On the Road Again

 It has been a long day. I have finally made it to the hotel -- the Hilton Boston-Deham -- where the New England Crime Bake is held. I am tucked in a comfortable bed watching The Remains of the Day. I saw this movie years ago and now that I am working on a historical thriller set in 1939, it is relevant to my research.  And writing this post is about all I can manage after driving over from Albany.

I always enjoy mystery conferences for all the reasons that have been mentioned here - catching up with friends and acquaintances., seeing agents and editors, and a chance to take workshops, set on panels, and be inspired by other writers. I enjoy conferences but I don't enjoy getting to them. 

Post-pandemic, I have decided to indulge myself when I travel.  For years I have been traveling in the Business Coach on Amtrak. I like not having to wander through a train that is in motion looking for an empty seat and a pleasant looking seatmate. It is worth the extra charge to travel in a single seat next to the cafe.

When I was invited to attend the International Agatha Christie Festival, my travel agent suggested I avoid the strike that seemed to be on the horizon at Heathrow. He suggested I take Aer Lingus to Dublin for a few days and then come back across to England for the conference. Coming from Dublin it would be a much shorter flight. And if I traveled in the airline's version of First Class, I would be able to have a bed and arrive well-rested. I did and I was. I also decided that henceforth I would trade in my cramped seat in Coach for the plush seats with menu, food on a tray and the other amenities of flying first-class. I did on my next domestic flight. It was a short flight, but I enjoyed it.

Today I didn't have a choice. I had to drive from Albany to Boston. By the time I took my dog Fergus to his daycare where he is going to be boarding over the weekend and my cat to the sitter who is going to board her, I was already later than I intended. Doing wash and packing made me even later. Darkness fell and I drove following the lights of the cars in front of me. Apparently, I was a bit erratic because the Driver Assistance on my car suggested I take a break for a cup of coffee. The first time I stopped at a rest area for hot tea and a Big Mac. The second time, I kept driving.

Good thing I did because I was too tired to follow the GPS's directions when I got to the roundabout. leading to the hotel. I ended up back out on the highway. After two more attempts I finally hit the right exit. 

I'm sure the conference will be worth it. I'm on a panel about strong female protagonists. But this tired woman needs some sleep first. 

And so, Good Night, dear friends, If you are here at Crime Bake, please say hello.


Friday, July 08, 2022

Venturing into the World

 As I read what my blogmates have written over the past months about venturing out into the world, I feel like the woodchuck who lives under the storage hut in my backyard. He (or perhaps she) pokes a head out of its tunnel to have a look around before emerging out into in my pocket-size but lushly green backyard. There is a grapevine that has been impossible to kill and that every summer intrudes across the low fence into my neighbor's yard. Despite being ripped out by a tree trimming company last year, it is back again and now climbing into a young tree nearby. While looking innocent, that grapevine can kill the tree. But it and the wild flowers around it provide the woodchuck and the rabbit family that live in my backyard with a place they can quickly shelter when I come into the backyard with my dog, Fergus. 

Not understanding the concept of leashes, they don't know that even when Fergus dashes into the yard, I have a firm hold on him. No woodchuck will be pursued into its tunnel or rabbit, squirrel, or chipmunk harassed on my watch. The birds are capable of fending for themselves, but they would all probably be safe even if Fergus were running free. He is a lover not a predator. In all likelihood, he would be front paws down, butt up in the air as he barked at a baby rabbit and waited for it to play. 

But unlike Penelope, the Maine Coon cat, with whom he lives and who alternates between indifference, mild interest, flirting as she brushes by him, stopping to sniff, and meowing in distress as she sits beside the kitchen door waiting to be let down in the basement -- her "cat cave" where she sleeps inside an old work table left by the family who once owed the house or up in a space in the ceiling or behind paint cans or a box of Christmas decorations. She would be more convincing about her need for a place to escape to if Fergus didn't help her out by chasing her to the door and then sitting down beside her to wait for me to let her out -- sometimes barking or scratching on the door with his larger paw so that I will come and open the door for her. 

Penelope, a rescue cat, would love to run out the front door when it is open. She once did in the middle of the night when I took Fergus out. As I searched for her with flashlight in hand, wondering if she would come in on her own if I dared leave the front door open, she ran back up the steps leading down to the street and up the walk and the front steps and back into the house. Penelope had found that venturing out at night in the dark was more freedom than she wanted. But she still waits by the door when Fergus and I go out, and I have learned to close the door from living room into foyer before opening the front door. I am thinking of getting a collar with her name and my telephone number in case she should ever manage to dash by me or someone else and get herself lost before she realizes she is out in a neighborhood where dogs are being walked -- and that we live several cross streets up the hill from an avenue with four lanes where traffic is rushing by.

Although I share Penelope's desire to explore, I feel rather like the woodchuck peeping out from under the storage hut. I have been going out every morning to take Fergus to daycare. I've been doing that for months. I return to pick him up in the afternoon after trying to get some work done. I'm now going to supermarkets and to pick up food. I've even had dinner out with a friend three or four times. I've gone to a mystery conference. Sometimes I wear a mask, sometimes I don't. I find myself matching my behavior to that of others in some settings. It seems -- oddly enough -- almost an accusation to wear a mask when no one else is wearing one. I feel as if I am suggesting the other people might be careless enough to be there if they are ill. But that makes no sense. They could well be contagious without no raging symptoms. When I am going to be in a busy place with lots of other people, I opt for the mask. 

But now -- in September -- I have my first airplane trip since the pandemic began. I am planning to take an international flight from Newark, New Jersey to Dublin, Ireland. After three days in Dublin, I am going to get on a smaller plane and fly over to Torquay for the International Agatha Christie Festival. 

https://www.iacf-uk.org/festival-2022

I am excited about finally being able to accept an invitation to do a presentation at the festival. I'm also excited about going to Ireland for the first time and having the opportunity to do some field research that I can use when I begin writing my 7th Lizzie Stuart.  Book 4 is about to be reissued by Speaking Volumes with a new cover. See below:

I am plotting the 6th book after a lapse of years. It seems a lovely bit of serendipity to be going to Torquay for the festival. My first Lizzie novel, Death's Favorite Child, was set in Cornwall, written during and after a vacation in St. Ives with a friend. In my book, Lizzie and her travel writer best friend Tess Alvarez were staying at the same sort of private hotel. When the young housekeeper, niece of the two sisters who were the proprietors, was murdered, Lizzie had her first crime to solve. The plot and the characters and even the murder weapon were inspired by Dame Agatha.

That first book was the one in which Lizzie met John Quinn, American homicide detective, who was visiting his former partner who had retired to St. Ives with his Scottish wife. Now, two years later in series time, Lizzie and Quinn are engaged and due to be married in Book 7. I anticipate they will be sidetracked from their honeymoon in Paris by a matter involving Quinn's late father (career military) and his Irish roots.

So, I'm venturing out and crossing my fingers that some new variant of Covid won't upset my plans. Even though I purchased travel insurance in case I have to cancel, I'm feeling optimistic. I hope I'll be able to take that flight to Ireland. Although I'm coming back in coach, I'm treating myself on the way over. A chat with my travel agent and a discount sale convinced me that I should splurge on an upgraded seat on my direct flight to Dublin. I'll be able to stretch out in my own little sleep pod. With only three days in Dublin, I want to enjoy every moment -- just in case I come home with Covid and need to go back into my hole.


Friday, June 17, 2022

Summer Plans and Agatha Christie

I've lost track of my posting schedule, but I'm sure I missed last Friday. Mid-week I went down to New York City to do an interview for a documentary. That was fun. But the documentary won't be out until 2023, and I wasn't told I could talk about it. Since I could end up being left out of the final cut, I will wait to share the details.

Last weekend, I attended the Maine Crime Wave. I had intended to drive because there is no train or plane that would have taken me directly from Albany to Portland. But as it happened, the production company that asked me to come down to NYC for the interview flew me to Portland for the festival. Then I flew back to NYC and took the train back to Albany.

The festival was on the campus of University of Southern Maine. It was a wonderful gathering with great panels and guests of honor. Lovely weather. Highly recommended. 

But I was glad to get home without delays along the way. Penelope, the cat, was pleased to see me because -- although she'd had a sitter who came in twice a day -- she was in the house alone. Fergus, my bouncing boy, had spent the week boarding with the owner of his doggie daycare. We have been getting back to our regular routine this week as I try to finish an article for a special issue of a journal. The article is about Gothic literature, Edgar Allan Poe, and "haunting" in works by several African American mystery/detective writers. I'm aiming to have that out the door this weekend. 

Then I'm going to start my summer projects with fall in mind. I have a sabbatical coming up in this fall. I intend to savor every minute of it, and try to actually get some writing done. In the lead-up, I need to finish my book about gangster movies and get it polished and out to my publisher by the end of August. 

Then in September . . . a coincidence that Agatha Christie came up in the posts this week. I'm about to settle into a couple of months of reading/re-reading her novels and short stories. I'm scheduled to do a presentation during the International Agatha Christie Festival in September and seeing my travel agent next week. 

 https://www.iacf-uk.org/festival-2022/if-you-like-agatha-christie-then-you-ll-like-with-professor-frankie-bailey

I was first invited to present in 2020. Then came the pandemic. Last year, I was invited again and decided to wait one more year. This year, I want to go to Torquay and deliver my talk in person. I love England. My first Lizzie Stuart novel is set in Cornwall. That first book, Death's Favorite Child, was my tip of the hat to Dame Agatha. The victim is a young housekeeper in a private hotel. My sleuth and her best friend, a travel writer, are guests there. A friend had invited me to meet her for a week's vacation in St. Ives, and I began writing the book during that delightful week. 

My festival presentation will have an observation or two about Christie's 1939 And Then There Were None. I've already shared my thoughts about that novel in Out of the Woodpile, my book about black characters in crime fiction. Christie's plot itself is one that other mystery writers would love to pull off with such finesse. That's why every writer of crime fiction should read Christie's books and short stories. She was not only prolific, she has influenced us all. 

Personally, I also love the movies. My favorite is Death on the Nile  -- gorgeous photography and great cast. After I get my article done, I'm going to make a bowl of popcorn and watch it again. What better way to launch my summer with Agatha.