Left Coast Crime, the conference in Phoenix, was a lot of fun. From what other attendees have told me, it always is. LCC in Portland last year was my first, and I had a great time. This time, as I told you in my last blog, I wasn’t on a panel, which was disappointing. Instead, I had half-an-hour to myself to talk about whatever I wanted, but I was the one who had to attract an audience, and that was scary. I had visions of sitting for half-an-hour alone, looking lost and unloved.

I devised a plan. First, I decided on a topic. I thought I might attract visitors if they knew what I was going to talk about. My topic, announced in the conference program, was “You’re Never Too Old.” A good friend did a poster for me, although there was nowhere to post it except inside the room.

At the conference, I talked to everyone I knew and lots of people I didn’t know and invited them to come and see my presentation. To my dismay, I found that the rooms allocated to the single presenters were located at the very end of the meeting rooms, so it would be unlikely that I would attract a casual visitor. Someone would have to come looking for my presentation room.

I felt like a huckster, saying to everyone I met, “Remember. Come hear me 9:30 Saturday morning in Russell B.” But it worked! I got twelve or fourteen people to attend, many of whom I knew but at least four attracted by my topic. Yay!

I talked about my childhood desire to write, and the way my ego was squashed when I wasn’t accepted for the high school magazine. Although I majored in English Literature and minored in Philosophy (not good choices for a future career), I didn’t do any creative writing until many years later, when I took an interesting course which asked the participants to write an early memory in the voice of the child to whom it had occurred.

    It was an interesting experiment and proved to be life-changing for me and for others in  the class. Many broke down in tears when they wrote a painful memory–and most were painful–in the voice and as the child to whom it happened. class.

Soon after that I joined a group of friends in reading THE ARTIST’S WAY by Julia Cameron. We read a chapter a month and did the exercises. I bogged down when I was supposed to spend a week without listening to television, radio, or music or reading a book or newspapers. I couldn’t do it. A week of living in my own head was impossible.

One exercise stayed with me for a long time though. First thing every morning I wrote three pages without thinking and without stopping. The pages were garbage, and I eventually threw them out, but they were very freeing. When I was still working, at a job with long hours and a long, traffic-filled commute, I got up at 4:30 in the morning to do my “morning pages.” These experiences were part of my journey to the dream of being a writer.

A woman who came to see my presentation suggested that I carry the theme, “You’re Never Too Old,” further, inspiring other older people–and there are lots of us–to realize their dreams of writing and publishing their stories, their memories, and in my case, my mystery novels. She suggested I write a self-help book for guidance, and I think I’ll do it.

       Next week I’m going to Left Coast Crime, a convention sponsored by fans of mystery literature for fans of mystery literature. Officially it is the “Western North American Regional Mystery Conference”. “Western” is defined by the Mountain Time Zone and zones westward to Hawaii. The conference is held yearly in the first quarter of the calendar year and rotates north to south on an annual basis.
Last year was my first time at Left Coast Crime. It was held in Portland, and I went by myself, not knowing what to expect. It rained a lot, I guess because it was in Portland, and I never left the hotel, but I had a terrific time and met a lot of other mystery writers and mystery readers.

So I decided I’d go again this year. It’s being held in Phoenix, and it’s called The Great Cactus Caper. The American Guest of Honor is Gregg Hurwitz, and the International Guest of Honor is Ann Cleeves.
Last year I was on a panel with four other mystery writers, and we had a topic: “She Said, She Said: Writing the Female Protagonist”. It was a lot of fun, the moderator (Meg Gardiner) and the other panelists were great, and the pressure wasn’t all on me.

This year I have been assigned twenty minutes in a room by myself where I can do

anything I want (within reason, of course). I’ve chosen as my topic “It’s Never Too Late.” As a writer who only began publishing really late in life, I plan to talk about becoming a writer and writing seriously after retirement. I just hope that I’m not talking only to myself!

Now I need to spend some time planning what I’m going to say. If, indeed, there’s anyone there to say it to. I hope that some of the participants, both fans and writers, will want to hear what I have to say.

Wish me luck!

Romance is in the air. We celebrated Valentine’s Day yesterday, a day for lovers to be together, for friends to celebrate friendship, for admirers to share their feelings. For many, this is a day to be bold. Romance requires a certain amount of boldness.

In the best romantic stories, the hero(ine) must fight for his or her love. Whether overcoming insurmountable obstacles to be with the one they love or fighting for the heart of the one they love, the heroes and heroines of classic romance understand the need to be brave. The need to be bold. Romance is not for the weak of heart.

Characters in a classic murder mystery have a similar need. A need to be brave, a need to be bold. The detective must determine not only who has the means and the opportunity, but also who has the motive, boldly digging into lives that the suspects would prefer to keep private.

Each character in a mystery must be bold, to face the inevitable confrontation with the detective, to face the other suspects without succumbing to fear, and to deal with the secrets that always lurk just below the surface of their own lives.

And of course the killer must be bold. Bold enough to hide the truth, to lie and to misdirect. Bold enough to be a worthy opponent of the detective.

I’ve hit that point in my work-in-progress when it’s time for me, as an author, to be bold. I’m putting the finishing touches on the last draft of What She Fears, book 4 in the Adam Kaminski mystery series.

It’s the last draft for now. I’m sending it off to my editor and it will come back with pages of notes, changes, revisions, additions, deletions. Some minor. Some that will require rewriting a significant portion of the text. As a writer, I dread this step. Not because of the suggestions — those will no doubt improve the work.

No, my fear is in sending this text, a text that up to now has only been seen by my eyes, out to be read by someone else. Someone out there. Someone whose interest lies not in complimenting me or praising me, but in tearing my work apart, exposing its weaknesses and highlighting its flaws.

I’m not alone in this, and I gain strength from knowing that everyone who has written their heart and soul onto a page understands this feeling. With every new draft I share, every new book I release, I swallow my fear, tuck my doubts out of sight, and bravely go where every author has gone before. It is a time to be bold.

Visit janegorman.com for information on all of Jane Gorman’s books.