A Moment
On Murderati today:
My two cents. At the D.C. Bouchercon I was a shiny eyed fan and newlywed. Despite the truly bizarre feelings we all experienced during that convention because of the events of 9/11 the solidarity amazed me. Even more so, when on Saturday morning I received a phone call from Richmond VA. My Grandfather had died and my Grandmother needed me. to say I was a mess doesn't begin to cover it. And when things like this happen and you're muddling through, the last thing you want is everybody knowing what's going on. I'm not a person who can take heart felt condolences from well meaning acquaintances without bursting into tears. So by the end of the day there were some who knew what was going on but by no means was it common knowledge.
I soldiered on through the Anthony Awards, tried to be my happy self, but heaven help the people who met me that day. They've no idea of my own true self. Those who did know and who helped me out, making travel arrangements (thanks Charles), spiriting me off for a quiet cigarette, keeping Jon company while I bubbled in the bath, or made sure I had a view of the Yankee/Diamondback game that night. They are special people. And the thing is, within the Bouchercon community, I believe any individual would be a caregiver and probably has been if they've been to more than one Bouchercon. It's why we keep coming back and welcome new people into our fold every year. It's why we covet these four days every year. It's why many of you who I see only once every year are extended family to me. And it's why that old chestnut "Judge no people....." always applies.
In the Naked Bouchercon there are 2000 stories. Mine is just one of them.
My two cents. At the D.C. Bouchercon I was a shiny eyed fan and newlywed. Despite the truly bizarre feelings we all experienced during that convention because of the events of 9/11 the solidarity amazed me. Even more so, when on Saturday morning I received a phone call from Richmond VA. My Grandfather had died and my Grandmother needed me. to say I was a mess doesn't begin to cover it. And when things like this happen and you're muddling through, the last thing you want is everybody knowing what's going on. I'm not a person who can take heart felt condolences from well meaning acquaintances without bursting into tears. So by the end of the day there were some who knew what was going on but by no means was it common knowledge.
I soldiered on through the Anthony Awards, tried to be my happy self, but heaven help the people who met me that day. They've no idea of my own true self. Those who did know and who helped me out, making travel arrangements (thanks Charles), spiriting me off for a quiet cigarette, keeping Jon company while I bubbled in the bath, or made sure I had a view of the Yankee/Diamondback game that night. They are special people. And the thing is, within the Bouchercon community, I believe any individual would be a caregiver and probably has been if they've been to more than one Bouchercon. It's why we keep coming back and welcome new people into our fold every year. It's why we covet these four days every year. It's why many of you who I see only once every year are extended family to me. And it's why that old chestnut "Judge no people....." always applies.
In the Naked Bouchercon there are 2000 stories. Mine is just one of them.
posted by ruth the crimespree gal at 3:24 PM
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