Nine on a Sunday morning is very early for a panel on the importance of psychics. No, sorry, that should be sidekicks. But for the 20+ who had staggered out of bed, it was very interesting. It was hot, too, and one day I will learn to carry a fan round with me. The semicircular kind.
Next after the psychics came the comedians, and it worried me slightly that I had had dinner with three of the four on the panel. The losers, I have to point out. Those who didn’t win The Last Laugh Award, which went to Ruth Dudley Edwards. Naturally I felt the need to sample one of her books, too. The authors very carefully pointed out that they were not funny in real life. Could be, but they were a lot funnier than many others.
Humour is contagious, and I spent some of the time writing down notes of very funny stuff. I’ll probably throw it away tomorrow.
The witch had time for half of the last panel of the CrimeFest, which had a very wide subject area to cover. Sex, Drugs, Rock and Roll, and Great closing lines. Laurie King moderated excellently, and dealt with the first three at great speed.
Authors really are very nice people. The thing to remember about this bunch, though, is that they have killed more people than most.
It will take me a lot of the week to recover, I suspect.