No crime, but night eventful
I’m writing from Fearrington Village, N.C.
Chapel Hill is 10 miles away. The Tarheels beat Duke last night. I didn’t attend the game. I was at an “authors’ dinner.” It was fancy. My good friend from college, Jerry McNeil, was sitting next to me. We heard somebody scream, followed by what sounded like a slap. “Fight?”
That’s what I thought, too. I wasn’t aware of The Rivalry Series taking place up the road. I just knew there was violence in the air, murder-minded people everywhere. I feared I’d invited Jerry to a game of “Clue.” Jerry wasn’t worried. He’s a truck driver. He makes long hauls across the country to Colorado and Nacogdoches, Texas.
Joe R. Landsdale is from Nacogdoches. Joe was the guest of honor at the CrimeScene Mystery Bookfest, which, as it turns out, didn’t feature any real crime, much less murder.
The sounds Jerry and I had overheard and mistaken for a fight turned out to be diehard Tarheel fans, shouting and clapping at a television in the next room.
Though CrimeScene was devoid of actual crimes, it was still eventful.
The bookfest is hosted by McIntyre’s, one of the best bookstores in the country. Keebe Fitch owns and operates the place, while Pete Mock hawks crime novels. It’s been a few years since they’d hosted a CrimeScene, but it didn’t matter. Things went off without a hitch.
I mentioned Joe earlier. If you haven’t read his “Hap and Leonard” series, I highly recommend it. His most recent screwball crime novel, “The Donut Legion,” features a suit-wearing chimp and a UFO cult. Joe is like Keebe and Pete. Joe’s good people.
North-Carolina-based author David Joy was also there. David is a tall, bald, bearded white man. At different points over the weekend, a bevy of crime-fiction lovers called me “David,” a name to which I answered, then asked if I needed to sign any books. When I finally met my doppelgänger, we talked more about catfishing than books.
The festival concluded last night, right around the same time the basketball game wrapped up. I rose early this morning, my head still sandy from the night before, my blood thick. I didn’t want to write this column, yet here I am, already headed into the home stretch.
I never know what I think until I’ve written it down. Somebody else said that. I can’t remember who. The point is there’s power in the creative act, the will to rise and write again.
The sun is almost up now, painting Fearrington Village’s
perfectly manicured lawn in sherbet shades of soft yellow and orange. It’s beautiful, and fun. I’m so very thankful for trips like this — for the people I meet, the people who make it happen — but home is where my heart is, no matter how far I roam.
Eli Cranor is the nationally bestselling, Edgar-Award-winning author of “Don’t Know Tough” and “Ozark Dogs.” He can be reached using the “Contact” page at elicranor.com and found on X (formerly Twitter) @elicranor.