CWC, the unhanged Arthur, and a Chinese guy with a Civil War Beard.

So I went to the Crime Writers of Canada panel discussion last week, basically for the same reason Tommy Johnson went down to the crossroads--fame and fortune, or at least acquaintance and subsistence.

I don't hang out with a lot of writers, nor do I go to poetry slams and the like. Nothing against them, just not useful to me. But now that I have a manuscript, I'm curious as to what to do with it, and I thought some of the discussion might be relevant.

The panel was four geriatric women and a retired dentist from White Rock who answered basic questions on technique and process. I learned a couple of valuable things, though a lot of them were from people in the crowd-- I eavesdrop like a ma-fucker.

1. It takes till the third book to turn a profit.

2. Series books are desired by publishers, children's series especially.

3. Don't set a mystery in Canada if you want to sell it in the States.

4. The CWC has an unpublished-first-novel award, the "Unhanged Arthur," named after Canada's last hangman.

Which means my next project will be a trilogy of children's mysteries set in Anytown, USA.

During the Q&A, an elderly Chinese man with a Ulysses S. Grant goatee took the floor and launched into an incoherent tale of woe, that was either about a perceived racial grievance or a problem with the transmission on a Buick 49. He refused to sit down, expecting this panel of "Crime Writers" to aid him in some way. The panel, the moderator and the crowd got really, really uncomfortable. Actually, uncomfortable isn't the word. They were uncomfortable when the CWC banner fell off the front of the table. When he stood up their reactions varied from a rolling of eyes to ignoring him and hoping he would go away.

I fucking loved that guy. In my opinion, he stole the show.

No one was interested in him. How can you call yourself a writer and not be curious about people, not be willing to embrace a bit of chaos in the hope you get to hear something new? A new specimen of whackjob is more interesting than a doddering old lady explaining how she came to write "The Curious Case of the Potted Prunes" or "Murder by Begonia."

It amazes me that under the heading of "Crime Writer," you have the sweet elderly schoolmarms who like exotic locales, elaborate clue schemes that need an abbacus to work out, and a guaranteed happy ending. You also have people interested in society and justice, in writing as an art form, in aberrant behaviour and psychology, and in morality under pressure. Agatha Christie and Raymond Chandler don't seem to belong on the same planet, do they?

Which I guess is a longwinded way of saying it takes all sorts.