Five More Reasons to Come Capering, by Catriona McPherson

So, you’re coming to the Great Cactus Caper. And you already know you’ll be seeing fabulous panels, fascinating interviews, and a lo-ho-hot of books, right? [Ed. note: be sure you're registered!] But that’s not all. Here are five flavours of guaranteed great stuff you might not even be looking forward to yet.

Number 5  Writers in clothes!

I type this in red tartan jammie bums, a pink fleece, and cream furry boot-slippers (lavishly filthy and worn through in the soles from me trumphing about the gravel yard in them). It’s pretty much the combat uniform of the full-time writer. I’ve heard even Hank Phabulous Ryan claim that she writes in sweats. Nancy Martin is on record as saying if her house catches fire she won’t leave in uniform, on her  own two feet. She’ll use the precious minutes to change into something pretty, and be carried out—possibly unconscious—by a firefighter. But in Phoenix, you will see writers in clothes with waistbands and lapels. You’ll see zipped-up zippers and buttons through buttonholes. Of course, not all will make it (Jess Lourey will be in yoga pants pretending they’re slacks) but all will try.

Number 4  Wild Kingdom!

Granted, most of the writers at The Great Cactus Caper are going to be yakking, laughing, hugging, and yes drinking. Think of it as a  zoo. But [David Attenborough voice] look carefully and you’ll see, here and there, in coffee shops around the convention hotel and even in the lobby itself, a few dedicated writers ignoring all the shiny objects and finding their own wild habitat for . . . writing. That great silverback Tim Hallinan can write at cocktail parties while lesser writers dance on the same table as his lap-top. At LCC Monterey in 2014, William Kent Kruger could be seen every morning in Starbucks, totally focused, while the likes of me wafted in and out talking about boys and shoes. It’s amazing to watch that kind of concentration. I mean, Kent is the nicest guy who ever walked this good green earth, but would I interrupt him when he’s writing? Um, no.

Number 3. Daylight Vampires!

They call it the New Author Breakfast. And strictly speaking, yes, new authors do get to deliver a two-minute pitch of their first book to a huge room full of fans and peers. And, yes, the books are all on sale in the book-room afterwards. That’s the cover story.

Really, what’s going on is that plump, glowing, dewy, debut authors enter the breakfast room and dried-up, wizened old-timers scuttle in after them and sit near the front. An hour later, the debut authors leave, slightly woozy and a bit lighter. And—what do you know—the old-timers aren’t so wizened anymore. They’ve got a spring in their step and a bloom in their cheeks. 

It sounds borderline dodgy. But I’m willing to bet Mette Ivie Harrison and Loretta Ross were fine after last year’s breakfast. Glass of tomato juice, bit of steak for lunch, and they were fine . . .

Number 2. Books Being Born!

This isn’t actually guaranteed but it’s quite likely. At least once during the weekend, something will probably happen and the same lust will light up all the writers’ eyes. There’ll be a short bout of thrashing and a cloud of blood and someone will know what their next book’s about.

One time, it was Reed Farel Coleman plunging off the back of a dais in a panel room. Fans were concerned. Journalists were composing copy. But all the crimewriters—Sorry, Reed—were thinking: murder or suicide? First of a string or personal motive? Poison? Poison dart? Then he stood up, brushed himself down and the night wore on.

Another time, two attendees of a—get this—60^th high school reunion going on in the same hotel had to be taken to bed in wheelchairs by the bar staff because they were so monumentally lathered they couldn’t walk. Yep, a husband and wife (presumably) seventy-eight years of age drank a bottle of Jim Beam in their room before they went out to the party. (I know because I asked Housekeeping. It’s research.) Show me any writer who doesn’t want to explore what the frilly hat happened at their high school all those years ago. Also, did you know bar staff have wheelchairs to take you up to your room in? It was news to me.

Number 1. Sunshine!

On the 25^th of February, it will be raining in Oregon. When you walk round the corner of a block in Manhattan the wind will howl at you like a lost coyote. It will be cold enough to make your teeth ache in Chicago. And in Colorado—horizontal snow. But in Phoenix,  it will be 72F and sunny. Even if you bring a potted bougainvillea with you on the plane and put it out on your balcony, you won’t have to wrap it at night.  So have a pedicure, pack some sunblock, leave your mittens at home, and come to the Great Cactus Caper. I can’t wait to see you.