...And he's baaaack!

Mes Amis

Alltogether, now, breeeeathe... yes, your saviour has returned to his rightful home with no missing limbs, no horrendous tales of terror (even Sandra's butt-pinching epidemic failed to scare me) and an adrenaline level that is flying high.

A few brief impressions before I sleep and post more tomorrow:

Madison is a beautiful wee city.

Crime writers are wonderful folks, and the Jordans are the most goddamn amazing folks you will ever meet. And if anyone deserved to win an Anthony Award, it was Jon and Ruth. I almost shed a little tear, but I'm a manly scot so I gave a very gruff "fantastic!" and then walked into a door when I saw them after the win.

Jen Jordan is actually an amazing driver. How she can navigate the hellish highways of America in safety, I shall never know. She can also sing Convoy with such enthusiasm that even now it is still ringing around the inside of my head. Ms Jordan, I shall have my revenge... oh yes, I shall... She is also a little like Kato in the Pink Panther movies: apt to leap out of anywhere and attack with no warning. Only my superior reflexes saved me from a proper pummelling at the hands of this deadly wee ninja.

Sean Chercover (as played by Mel Gibson) is not only a charming and wise man, but also one heck of a writer. His name is pronounced pretty much as you expect and he may have once been a deep-sea diving fisherman and a part time magician on top of his PI work. He is also gracious under pressure and his debut, Big City, Bad Blood, is set to rock readers early next year (really: it's great fun: I was reading on the flight home).

Ken Bruen has the strongest handshake I've ever encountered and hugs like a bear. He is also a very bad influence if you're thinking about not drinking for the rest of the evening. American Skin came out at the convention and it looks to be amazing from what I've sneaked a peek at so far.

Al Guthrie is quietly offensive but we all knew that. And no one else could carry off a pussy snorkel t-shirt with anything approaching dignity.

Sandra Ruttan is like an evil leprechaun. Who pinches butts with gleeful abandon.

John Rickards and Bryon Quertermous scare me. Greatly.

I am *not* Stuart MacBride (check my name tag!)

Cheese Heads are the world's greatest invention.

These name tags are great but you get a little self conscious staring at people's chests after a while.

A man can never, ever, ever buy too many books (there are three boxes following me home).

Pork is good (don't ask).

Are all Canadians so amazingly friendly and nice?

Tribe looks nothing like I expected him to.

Cooking your own steak can be an enlightening and rewarding experience.

American batteries suck.

Brett Battles has the world's greatest name.

Sleep is for tortoises.

So call me a tortoise.

Till next time

Au revoir

Russel