Back to the Scene of the Crime

I usually write the blog on Wednesday or Thursday. Today I’m writing it on Tuesday. Why? Because I’m going to be very busy later on in the week.

For one thing, a shipment of 800 books is due to show up any minute now, all of which will need to be signed. It’s on occasions like this that I’m tremendously grateful for the marketing guys at Avon Books who, in 1983, insisted I use my initials as my pen name because, as they told me, “Male readers won’t accept police procedurals written by someone named Judy.”

Just like that, Judith Ann Jance went bye-bye and J.A. Jance appeared on the scene. Trust me, J.A. uses up a whole lot less red ink (I always sign in red ink!) than Judith Ann. And less time as well. So that’s one of my Thursday things.

By the way, those signed copies of Den of Iniquity will be part of the November Book Box for Brenda Novak’s Book Club.

As for the “crime” mentioned above? Fairly early in my career, I was invited to speak to the ladies’ spring luncheon at the Seattle Yacht Club. I grew up in Bisbee, Arizona, where yacht clubs were very thin on the ground, so the idea of my speaking to the yacht club ladies was daunting to say the least, and so was the idea of finding parking there.

As a result, Bill drove me to the event and dropped me off at 10:30 AM for an 11:30 start time. Was I nervous? You’d better believe it. When I walked through the entrance, I was greeted by a silver-haired lady with a smile on her face and a glass of white wine in one hand. She handed me the glass of wine. I was nervous, so I drank it. When that glass was empty, she handed me another. I drank that one, too, and when I arrived at my assigned seat, there was a third glass of wine waiting for me.

In other words, by the time the luncheon started, it still wasn’t noon, and I was already three glasses of wine ahead of the game.

So when I stood up to speak, I started off by telling a naughty joke—which I have no intention of repeating here. Over the years I’ve occasionally heard from people who attended that luncheon. They’ve all told me I was “hilarious” during that appearance, and maybe so, but believe me, I learned my lesson. When I’m going to do a speaking engagement, I might indulge in a single glass of wine, but nervous or not, I don’t swill down three.

My second appearance at the Seattle Yacht Club is due to happen on Thursday evening when I’ll be speaking to members of their three separate book clubs. That’s concerning, too. My previous experiences with book clubs have been spotty at best. Many of the book clubs I’ve encountered over the years tend to focus on “literary fiction” as opposed to “genre” fiction which is what I write.

Once upon a time in Phoenix, Tony Hillerman, also with both feet firmly planted in the land of “genre” fiction, told me, “Literary fiction is where nothing much happens to people you don’t like very much.”

By the time you’re reading this blog on Friday morning, it’ll all be over but the shouting, but rest assured. This time around I have zero intention of starting off my Seattle Yacht Club appearance with several glasses of wine and a dirty joke. Hopefully I’ll be alive and well when it’s time for me to turn 80 on Sunday morning—still alive, still kicking, and still walking.