Reno - Day 3

I started the morning moderating Arianna Hart’s workshop on writing EMTs and Firefighters. She did a great job.

During the class, someone got a little obnoxious in the Q&A session at the end. I think the woman was prepared to go point by point through Ari's talk and tell what she, as a police dispatcher, thought about each subject. Now if you're an expert in the field, why go to the class? I'm being serious here. My time is valuable - once I lose it, I'll never get it back (I keep reminding myself this as I race to my PC to read the latest update on the RWA president's personal train wreck). It’s almost as if she felt a call from God to make sure Ari told the truth in her class and if she didn't, well this woman was going to correct her, by golly!!

I found myself wondering if I, as the moderator, should step in or if Ari was the one who was supposed to handle it. Ari got things under control before I figured it out. They had a class to teach moderators how to moderate, but it was seven hours after Ari's talk. I wonder if part of the training included How to Handle Obnoxious Class Attendees. That would actually be really good stuff to know.

My agent, Deidre Knight, had a lunch in Tahoe for all her authors. She totally rocks, by the way. Love that woman!! We took a bus up to a house on the lake that was owned by an extremely eccentric dude named George Whittell, Jr. It seems this guy had more money than Bill Gates, had more eccentricities than Michael Jackson, and loved a good party as long as you didn't make the mistake of thinking you could spend the night over. We’re talking a separate house just to play cards in, his own menagerie of circus animals, and cool hidden tunnels between all the rooms. Lunch was great, the house tour super-cool, but I think what I really enjoyed was finally meeting two people I keep cyber bumping into, Jaci Burton and Shelley Bradley.

As an aside, I have this really bad problem that occurs when people are long winded and boring. My mother raised me with Southern manners, I swear, and I know it's rude, but I just cannot seem to help myself. I *MUST* leave immediately either mentally, or preferably by physical means, the moment I feel that mind-numbing tedium that reminds me of this blind professor who taught my dissertation class in college on turn-of-the-century amusements (doesn’t that sound like it would be amazing?? It wasn’t.).

The historical society lady at Thunderbird talked for about 7 hours (okay 30 minutes) about the house. She began right as I finished off the last sip of my wine. Sadly, she stood in front of the bar, so I would have had to circle her to get a refill. My luck is like that sometimes. Basically, every time I looked at her, I saw about 15 bottles of wine sitting in a bucket of ice beyond her shoulder. I'm not an alcoholic, but I think wine would have made her more interesting. I'm just guessing. It got so bad, I went and played for awhile in the bathroom. It was a nice bathroom, and the cell reception was fantastic, allowing me to text page back and forth with my husband for a bit. I'm sure everyone thought I had a bad stomach, but better that then they know I was being horribly rude. I could tell Gena Showalter was jealous I snuck out for awhile. Heh.

Anyway, I zoomed to my room after lunch in time to change and get to the Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal RWA Chapter's Gathering celebration. It was a rocking event, filled with updates on the paranormal romance market, talks by agents and editors on what they're looking for, and lots of different kinds of coffee. I love coffee and these concoctions were the kind with whipped cream and chocolate shavings on top - love it!

I was shocked to learn I won the Prism Award for Best Paranormal Erotic Romance for my book IN ICE. My hero in this book will always have a huge place in my heart, because he wears a mask. Come on, you know you've always had a thing for masked men!! Admit it ladies! Robin Hood and Zorro. Sigh.

Anyway, afterwards, I decided to buy everyone a round of shots (Sex on the Beach, to go along with my award theme), so about 20 of us troop to the bar. In my euphoria, I ordered before my thrifty soul realized what I was doing. The bartender stacked out glasses.
"Wait a second!" I held up a hand. "I forgot to ask how much this will cost."
"Eighty bucks," he said.
"I'm not paying eighty dollars for shots. Any way you can give me a deal? I'm looking for something around the forty range." Where these words came from, I don't know. I can only say that I was high on caffeine, sugar and life at that moment. I felt like I could do anything, say anything - hell, I felt like I could take over the world (no I didn't, but I suddenly had a flash of Pinky and The Brain there).
"Let me see what I can do." He made the shots, rang them up, and says, "Forty-one dollars and fifty cents." He even got two hostesses to carry them over to the table for me.
WOW! I can't believe that actually worked!!! Who knew?
A fantastic topper to a fantastic day!