Thalia is a bookseller at Crime In Store located in London, and lives in North London. She's been sharing her love and knowledge of mystery for thirteen years. If you've been to a Bouchercon convention, you've probably seen her in the dealer room by day, and hanging out with the cool people by night. She's a wonderful lady with an unbridled enthusiasm for the Mystery/Crime genre. And she is terrific at suggesting books and new authors, and pretty much just a delight to be around.

My First Bouchercon

The first place I stayed in the US was Omaha, Nebraska. This exhorts a chuckle from many Americans (apart from those who live in Omaha.) I don't know if I'd planned where I would go first, but probably I wouldn't have picked a state completely in the middle of the country, which, no offence, has little but fields. However, I always knew I wanted to go to the US. I can't remember any particular incidents that led me to this conclusion; I reckon it was always there. It might have been something to do with TheFall Guy, I seem to recall, but we'll leave it at that.

The reason I went to Omaha was that Ralph didn't want to go. I was working at Murder One at the time, the first mystery bookshop in the UK. Ralph ran his own second hand book business (still does) and had space at M1 where he sold his books and we became friends.

The other thing I should explain about here is Bouchercon. This marvellous mystery book convention -the biggest of a few - is the reason for most of my trips to the States and I don't know where I'd be without it. It's named after the crime and SF critic/writer Anthony Boucher, for reasons no-one is quite sure about, and has a dealer room where I'm to be found "promoting" the store. (Smile at the customs people.) It takes place in different places every year and cities bid in advance for the privilege; it's the Olympics of the mystery book world. Ralph usually did his own booth, but decided he didn't want to go toOmaha. So, knowing I was so mad to go, he asked if I wanted to go for him.

{Cue one of those cut away things they do in movies and TV where someone screams very loudly and the camera sort of goes out from the place they are into the clouds and stuff.}

So, I went.

I was 23 and maybe a little spooked travelling all that way by myself, not having been out of Europe and all. Luckily Maxim, the owner of Murder One, was on my flight and also luckily, we didn't have to sit together and make small talk, but I could hopefully get his attention if anything went awry. Otherwise I was journeying in exciting manner by myself. My mum came to see me off at the airport and we had breakfast with Maxim, which added to the general bizarre circumstances.

We first stopped in New York - JFK. Maxim disappeared, obviously horrified at the thought of having to shepherd me round, but that was fine by me, as I made straight for the exit to have a look outside. It was sunny and windy, and I stood and drank in my first sight of US things. I enthused over cabs, and signs, and cars, and people with luggage. I still love going outside when I have to wait a bit at a US airport, and drink in my first, last or only view of that city. Also, I love the first smell of US airports. That retail aroma that hits you soon as you move towards customs. The shops full of candy and cool magazines. On this occasion in New York, I appear (referring to my diary) to have gone mad about seeing a Hershey's Bar, but we'll draw a veil over that as subsequent tasting has proved it unworthy. I used to prefer to have a stopover rather than fly direct to anywhere, to savour these sights and scents, but I think I'm getting sadly jaded now and seem to appreciate just getting to the place more.

As the plane flew low over Omaha, all I could see was fields. This was a bit freaky, and I can still feel my heart sinking. Learning there was a mall cheered me somewhat (which sounds shallow, but imagine the scariness here). The taxi driver had pronounced it a "fine fall day" to my delight and it was still a sunny evening. I was handling the time thing so we went out to eat...actually I think we just went to the hotel
restaurant, come to think of it, meeting up with people Maxim knew - Eva from New York, still a good though infrequently-seen friend of mine, her friend Ronnie, and the Bouchercon Nottingham team - Adrian (now head of the BFI), Sarah (now married to friendly crime writer John Harvey) and Irish Mark, who went on paths unknown to me. I was a tad intimidated by the large table-worth of people and don't believe I said much, but we all got on well. There was a bit of moaning about the location (sorry again, Omaha city council) but we settled in for the evening peaceably enough. I had been up 24 hours, a first for me,and dizziness was starting to take hold, so bed ahoy. Delighted by the huge expanse of the two-bed room, just for little old me, I eventually managed to sleep.

The next day I opened up for business. I was nervous and scrambled words, credit card machine  receipts, and so forth but Ralph had given me a crib book with what to do in most situations, and maybe briefed the other dealers to look after me, as they were all very accommodating and helpful. Thus started the pattern for Bouchercon that I've followed every year since and it's delicious in its familiarity. With every year the location changes, the hours of the dealer room are different, and in recent years the Thursday has been added as a selling day rather than a set-up date (damn them), but things remain:

1 -Dealers... looking for the best books as you set up, looking for the best books they may have overlooked when you start selling, looking for the best books left on dealer discount day, and every day after that when they're bored sitting at their stalls; then they are wonderfully helpful clearing the table at the end - buying up stock in bulk (for a price, of course) so you don't have to send many books back home. And these are friends to go to dinner with, to hang out with at the various gatherings,
to be as one in your niche.

2 -Authors.....either a) self-promoting US authors who you can get rid of by saying - truthfully - that you just do British books; b) British authors who are scary because you forgot their books, couldn't get any from the publisher, or didn't bring enough; c) either nationality who are dear friends and marvellous to go drinking and playing pool with; or d) those you are star-struck to meet, as you have been devouring their books.

3 - Readers....Delighted with the idea of British books, either balking at the prices or making huge piles and using credit cards, commenting that you had a long way to get here and how do you like the place, regular customers of the shop or regular Bouchercon goers to say hi to all over the place.

And as of last year, another section of people; members of the marvellous newsgroup rec.arts.mystery, as profiled on this website, who were the first customers as soon as I set up in Austin, and who take over the designated bar all weekend and take you en masse to restaurants.

Back to Omaha. It was dead in the dealer's room the next day, but Eva had a treat for me in the evening. Her friend Eileen from NY had a cousin in Lincoln, who we went to meet downtown. Eileen drove us round the pretty downtown area, and I got to see houses - real American houses with porches. I can't tell you how cool that was. I never tire of driving through towns and seeing those cool gabley houses; even with a plethora of standing wooden animals on the front lawn, or a million pumpkins at Halloween, or over-kill on Christmas lights. They just rule. We had dinner with cousin Bobby at The Neon Goose, a name I obviously liked as I've noted it, and then to cocktails but I was jet-lagging over my Long Island Iced Tea. I didn't join in the conversation a great deal, due to that and just the fact I felt very much out of my depth in keeping up with the pace and subjects of my companions, so I just listened and sipped and took in the atmosphere.

On returning to my room, I was asked to go for a drink with a bloke who was ostensibly an author but I don't remember his name or seeing him at subsequent conventions. I'm not saying that in any protecting manner, I really don't remember. When I declined, he walked me to my room, rather forcibly gained entry, and told me in a conversational manner I was looking tired, would I like a massage? I declined this also, and continued declining further offers to either give him a massage, or any form of mutual massagery, until he got the idea and abruptly left.

Sold everything off the next day bar one box, with help from dealers, reported profits to Ralph which, thanks heaven, he was pleased about. Eva told me there was a flea market down the road so I went along in the glorious sunshine and for some reason bought a bad representation of Barney - at least it was a purple dinosaur, as I hadn't really met the scary singing kid's figure yet. Then I lay in some grass at the side of the road - God knows what people must have thought as they drove by - and basked in the sunshine, watching a cat chase a cricket, planning my life in America. This is such an enduring memory for me.

On my last morning in Omaha I started another Bouchercon precedent which was having the hotel pool all to myself. I don't know if people don't swim at conventions or what, but I frequently get to have a delicious solitary swim and I love it.

After this I got to go to San Francisco, which remains my favourite US city, introduced to me as so many others by the wondrous books of Armistead Maupin; but I remain fond of Omaha for being my first port of call. Ralph decided that I could carry on doing the booth for him, so all the time I was at Murder One I did just that; then he set up Crime In Store with Kathryn Skoyles and asked me to work there from the get-go - and I'm still at said store 7 years later, and now doing Bouchercons for CIS. Bouchercon '03, in Las Vegas, will be my tenth, and also will mark my 30th trip to the US. I have lost the wonder with which I greeted yellow cabs, road signs, buttered popcorn, quarters, huge breakfasts etc, but all this and so many other things are held dear in my heart.