Killer Nashville AKA the place where Dawn broke her wrist

So, it’s that time of the year again. Crime writers of all sorts will convene in a hotel and plot the end of someone’s life. Or just drink and tell stories between selling books, eating fried chicken and speaking on panels. Some of us will bring pals who slip in restaurants and break their wrists—in two places. Oh wait. that was last year.

This year, Killer Nashville will take place over the Halloween weekend. I have spent the last few days putting my costume together. I am about 90% certain that I will forget it, or a part of it when I pack up to leave Thursday, so of course, I have a back up costume- and  a bunch of excuses. ( and no, I’m not giving you a photo….yet)


It’s fun, sure, but there is so much to do. Outfits to put together, pads to add to shoes, books to sort and pack, swag to find, untangle and box up. Panels to prep for, books and excerpts to read, research to be done on authors, editors and publishers, round table pages to be prepped, printed and stapled, devices to charge, blogs to update and schedule, door prizes and companies to rep, bourbon to slip into suitcases, radar detectors to test… Sigh. This is the glamorous life of the working writer.

Of course, as if I am not anxious enough… Nanowrimo starts this Sunday, and I was stupid enough to sign up.

Oh Sweet baby Jesus I’m done for.





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