Last night was the 63rd annual Edgars award dinner, the night when writers who usually work in their sweat pants climb into their best bib and tuckers, dust off the sequins, cram their feet into crippling shoes, and shine.
The new MWA president, Lee Child, kept things moving nicely, and other than an unfortunate incident involving one of the presenters and an excess of spirits, all went smoothly. The winners were happy, those who had not won (hard to think of an Edgar nominee as being a loser, somehow) went off to the bar, and the mystery world took itself off to bed.
Today I’m on the road to Chicago, and in the meantime, I’m over at the Gumshoe Review, chatting about this and that.
Last but not least, don’t forget that today is International Buy Indie Day, so please go out and support your local independent bookseller. And remember, if you send us your receipt for The Language of Bees from an Independent Bookstore, along with your name and address (email is fine) and you will be entered for a drawing of this gorgeous broadside (without the obscuring banner, of course) on May 20th, 2009.
If you don’t have a receipt, send your name and address anyway—although since this is intended as a way of supporting my friends at Indie bookstores, I’d appreciate it if you’d buy something of equal value from them.