Vinnie Hansen's Blog - Posts Tagged "killer-nashville"
Ghosts of Killer Nashville
The elevator of the Hutton Hotel howled like an aggrieved ghost. The occupants exchanged nervous glances even though we were mystery writers on our way to a conference called Killer Nashville. For an hour we could watch a grisly slideshow of bones, and listen to Dr. Hugh E. Berryman discuss cleaning the remains with Biz soap, but none of us wanted to get stuck in an elevator! Still what could have been a better overture to a murder mystery conference than a howling ghost, especially when ghosts haunted Killer Nashville 2013.
Elmore Leonard died August 20th, and the conference started August 22nd. His spirit hummed about the event. On early Saturday morning, I attended a round table. An agent and publisher heard the first two pages of the manuscripts of the author participants and then rendered their judgments. I’d brought the prologue of Black Beans & Venom, my mystery-in-progress, and a finalist for Killer Nashville’s Claymore Award. When my pages were handed out, it took restraint not to apologize for breaking Leonard’s second rule from his 10 Rules of Writing: No prologues. The publisher at my round table, Martin Shepard of Permanent Press evoked Elmore Leonard as his favorite writer. I gulped. (Still he liked my prologue enough to invite me to send my first 24 pages.) After all, even Elmore Leonard no sooner stated his prologue rule than he pointed out exceptions. However, a brash young agent in a later panel pronounced, “I skip prologues.” I walked away from my two round-table experiences thinking perhaps I should not try to be Elmore Leonard’s exception. The young New York agent added, “Don’t start with a prologue, especially if it doesn’t focus on the protagonist.” Mine focused on the villain.
Elmore Leonard’s name passed the lips of Chris Knopf, panel leader for Literary Mysteries: What Are They and How Do You Write One? This was no surprise. Permanent Press published Chris Knopf, and I had already heard Martin Shepard compare Knopf to Leonard. Guest of Honor D.P. Lyle, MD also touted the wisdom of Elmore Leonard in his Awards Banquet speech. Elmore Leonard’s voice rippled through the conference as many presenters read passages from his works.
I heard another ghost, too. The second Guest of Honor Anne Perry, an award-winning author of over fifty books, spoke—without notes--for an hour and a half on the topic Anne Perry: How Does She Do It? How To Write 3 Books Per Year. Her eloquent voice lilted. With an accent from Scotland, her current home? Or did vestiges of New Zealand remain? There at age fifteen, Anne Perry, then known as Juliet Hulme, and her best friend Pauline Parker bludgeoned Parker’s mother, Honorah Rieper, to death. The audience politely ignored the shrieking ghost of Honorah Rieper. In attendees’ questions, I heard envy of Anne Perry having both a secretary and research assistant. No wonder she can crank out three novels a year. But I do not covet any part of her life. Even though her crime was committed in 1954, a month after I was born, the murder will always be part of who she is. Anne Perry has constructed an exceptional life, but it can never be a normal one.
The sounds of Killer Nashville weren’t limited to the conference. On the street youngsters cheered as they drank and pedaled a tavern. I’d never seen one of these contraptions—a bar on wheels with four pedaling drinkers on each side. A person in front steered the vehicle along West End Avenue. The participants hooted in such a way that the first time I thought they must be a youth group promoting a carwash. The pedal taverns provided a reminder that Nashville is a tourist and party mecca.
People come, of course, for the music. I would have been remiss not to hear the real sound of Nashville. Fellow mystery writer Heather Haven and I boarded the hotel shuttle and ventured to the neon-lit downtown strip. We poked our ears into two bars before heading across the street to Robert’s. Hoards packed this long, narrow bar, but the music that spilled out the door was foot-stomping good. We shouldered our way through the throng to the back where we found a magic stairway to an upper floor. Here we discovered an uncrowded bar with seats at the rail. We had an unobstructed view of the Don Kelley band , the best bar band I have ever heard, playing twangy country to bluesy Allman Brothers tunes. At the stroke of nine, they played their signature song, a whacked out, six minute jam of what else--Ghost Riders.
Vinnie Hansen
Elmore Leonard died August 20th, and the conference started August 22nd. His spirit hummed about the event. On early Saturday morning, I attended a round table. An agent and publisher heard the first two pages of the manuscripts of the author participants and then rendered their judgments. I’d brought the prologue of Black Beans & Venom, my mystery-in-progress, and a finalist for Killer Nashville’s Claymore Award. When my pages were handed out, it took restraint not to apologize for breaking Leonard’s second rule from his 10 Rules of Writing: No prologues. The publisher at my round table, Martin Shepard of Permanent Press evoked Elmore Leonard as his favorite writer. I gulped. (Still he liked my prologue enough to invite me to send my first 24 pages.) After all, even Elmore Leonard no sooner stated his prologue rule than he pointed out exceptions. However, a brash young agent in a later panel pronounced, “I skip prologues.” I walked away from my two round-table experiences thinking perhaps I should not try to be Elmore Leonard’s exception. The young New York agent added, “Don’t start with a prologue, especially if it doesn’t focus on the protagonist.” Mine focused on the villain.
Elmore Leonard’s name passed the lips of Chris Knopf, panel leader for Literary Mysteries: What Are They and How Do You Write One? This was no surprise. Permanent Press published Chris Knopf, and I had already heard Martin Shepard compare Knopf to Leonard. Guest of Honor D.P. Lyle, MD also touted the wisdom of Elmore Leonard in his Awards Banquet speech. Elmore Leonard’s voice rippled through the conference as many presenters read passages from his works.
I heard another ghost, too. The second Guest of Honor Anne Perry, an award-winning author of over fifty books, spoke—without notes--for an hour and a half on the topic Anne Perry: How Does She Do It? How To Write 3 Books Per Year. Her eloquent voice lilted. With an accent from Scotland, her current home? Or did vestiges of New Zealand remain? There at age fifteen, Anne Perry, then known as Juliet Hulme, and her best friend Pauline Parker bludgeoned Parker’s mother, Honorah Rieper, to death. The audience politely ignored the shrieking ghost of Honorah Rieper. In attendees’ questions, I heard envy of Anne Perry having both a secretary and research assistant. No wonder she can crank out three novels a year. But I do not covet any part of her life. Even though her crime was committed in 1954, a month after I was born, the murder will always be part of who she is. Anne Perry has constructed an exceptional life, but it can never be a normal one.
The sounds of Killer Nashville weren’t limited to the conference. On the street youngsters cheered as they drank and pedaled a tavern. I’d never seen one of these contraptions—a bar on wheels with four pedaling drinkers on each side. A person in front steered the vehicle along West End Avenue. The participants hooted in such a way that the first time I thought they must be a youth group promoting a carwash. The pedal taverns provided a reminder that Nashville is a tourist and party mecca.
People come, of course, for the music. I would have been remiss not to hear the real sound of Nashville. Fellow mystery writer Heather Haven and I boarded the hotel shuttle and ventured to the neon-lit downtown strip. We poked our ears into two bars before heading across the street to Robert’s. Hoards packed this long, narrow bar, but the music that spilled out the door was foot-stomping good. We shouldered our way through the throng to the back where we found a magic stairway to an upper floor. Here we discovered an uncrowded bar with seats at the rail. We had an unobstructed view of the Don Kelley band , the best bar band I have ever heard, playing twangy country to bluesy Allman Brothers tunes. At the stroke of nine, they played their signature song, a whacked out, six minute jam of what else--Ghost Riders.
Vinnie Hansen
Killer Nashville
I'd been to two conferences this year and wasn't about to attend another. Then I learned I was a finalist for the Claymore (again).
Since I last attended, Killer Nashville has moved from Nashville proper to a hotel in an industrial park in nearby Franklin. No pedal pubs hooting by on the street! No sneaking out to hear music! I also found this new hotel/motel disconcerting with elevators where you're on display like a bug. No fluffing your hair or wriggling in your dress to prepare for a grand entrance.
Read more:
https://misteriopress.com/2019/09/kil...
Since I last attended, Killer Nashville has moved from Nashville proper to a hotel in an industrial park in nearby Franklin. No pedal pubs hooting by on the street! No sneaking out to hear music! I also found this new hotel/motel disconcerting with elevators where you're on display like a bug. No fluffing your hair or wriggling in your dress to prepare for a grand entrance.
Read more:
https://misteriopress.com/2019/09/kil...
