Tomorrow I will be in Baltimore at the Enoch Pratt Library. If you can, please join me there. And now, a recap of my Saturday… **** 4:50—wake up when people in the adjoining room thoughtfully watch early morning cartoons half an hour before intended alarm clock klaxon.  Repress temptation to pound on wall, instead take…

In 1887, an ill-employed medical doctor sat in his empty office and wrote a story as he waited for patients to come. The lights he wrote by were jets of burning gas coming out of the wall with a sconce set on top; the methods of transportation available to him were horse, train, bicycle, or…

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…

Wednesday was travel day—up before 5 to catch a 7:00 flight to New York, which meant I didn’t have time to check my email, much less post a blog. But it got on eventually, and I figure you’ll either forgive me or stop reading entirely, and in either case it’s not my responsibility. So, the…