I'm Calling You Out, John Connolly

Bouchercon Post the First:

Okay, so I didn't win the Shamus. I'd only be mad, though, if I'd lost to a crappy book or one by an author I can't stand personally. This was not the case. Louise Ure's Forcing Amaryllis, which did win the Shamus for Best First Novel, is really good, and Louise herself is very cool, so it doesn't hurt to lose. Much.

The blow was cushioned by the fact that I was sitting with the First Offenders crowd, three lovely and charming ladies and Jeff Shelby, who all kept the hilarity level up, even as their favorite, Offender Lori Armstrong, went down in flames right along with me. There's a picture over at FO with me, Lori and fellow nominee Harry Hunsicker that pretty well sums it up.

Oh, and as for the title of this post: I was on a panel (ably moderated by Kevin Burton Smith) entitled "I Could Kick Your Ass...Or My Character Could." Admittedly, as titles go, it's not, say, Marjorie Morningstar. But it was a pretty good conversation between panelists and audience, if I do say so myself. We did get wind, however, that some sawed off Irish runt name of Connolly had been talking smack about the panel beforehand, claimimg that "you know they're a bunch of total wimps," or some such. Pretty brave talk from someone who didn't , you know, actually show up. Had he done so, he might have enjoyed a little chat with me, Brett Battles, John McFetridge, or even with Michael A. Black, one of our panelists who's a former cop and a kickboxer as well.

But it's okay. I'm a Southerner, and we have famously long memories. Our paths will, no doubt, cross again. And when we do, mark my words, Connolly. It's on.

Oh yeah, muthafucka, it's on.