Conferences and lunch

Thanks to the wonderful Amanda Grange, there will soon be a slideshow of my titles. The woman should get a medal.

A month since I last posted, during which I've sent more money to Phillipa in New Zealand and Thailand, worked a bit more on the novel (62000 now, and should be a LOT more) and been to the Crime Writers' Association Conference in Ilkley and the Romantic Novel of the Year Award lunch at The Savoy.

The Crime Writers' conference was interesting and enjoyable. Much more relaxed than the RNA conference, but that's probably because it's only published writers, so they don't bother to have writers talking about their work or giving workshops. Some useful speakers, particularly Ian and Helen Pepper, a husband and wife team who lecture on the crime scene and aspects of forensic science. Very entertaining and informative. However, the most notable feature of the weekend, my first, was that somehow or other, I was talked into organising next year's conference. Certainly made me a lot of friends! Luckily, the estimable Tim Bates of Pollingers offered to help, so we have formed a committee of two, and already sorted out the venue.

The problem has been cost. Two nights and conference facilities in Yorkshire, booked over a year ago with prices held, is vastly different to the South East. However, we have received and ALMOST accepted a very competitive quote from the hotel both Tim and I favoured, The Hythe Imperial. I went to visit on Friday, and it's terrific.

The Savoy lunch was as mad as ever. You never get to speak to everyone you want to and the best bit is in The Coal Hole next door afterwards. When I find it, I'll post a picture. Rosie Thomas won the main award with Iris and Ruby, which is now on my TBR pile, and Nell Dixon won the Romance Prize with Marrying Max, ditto.

Daughter-in-law-elect Clare took me out to dinner on Friday night at the Morroccan Restaurant in Canterbury, very posh, and the Champagne Bar, newly opened in what was the County Hotel. Even posher and London prices. Shan't go again.

My ankles have gone into summer mode and swell almost as soon as I get up in the morning, so I'm off to the sofa with the laptop to work for the rest of this bank holiday Sunday. Well, what else would I do?