Canadian Authors Association - West Coast Branch - AGM 2011

President Bob Mackay chaired the event with aplomb.  Of course he was surrounded by many beautiful and talented women, not the least of who was his wife.  Jean Kay, Margaret Hume, Bernice Lever, Perry Wilson,  and Margot Bates just to name a few.  They've all got great character and write remarkably so are far more than just another pretty face.  Bob would be that if his novel Soldiers of the Horse wasn't doing so well at the bookstore.
I forgot to bring home a program. And for the life of me now can't even remember the name of  the gorgeous sexy authoress who reads with a definitely lilting voice.  I can't even remember the name of the slyly brilliant thing who won the 'letter to Santa' contest.  Usually I take notes.
But Anthony Dalton, having published four books this year,  wasn't there.  I heard early that he was off working for the Smithsonian Institute lecturing on cruise ships.  Makes a writer like me literally want to throw in the towel.  Meanwhile,Patrick Taylor 's Irish Country Doctor series is now on the New York Best seller list.   Ben Nuttall Smith, having just won a Surrey Writer's Society prize for his book, Blood, Feathers and Holy Men was in fine form as usual.  Seeing his muse kicking the butt of my muse I at least thought to pull out the iPhone and make some record of the genius company I was in.  Without proof,  no one would believe a mere blogger such as I could hobnob with the likes of these celebrated and very real 'authors'.
I loved sitting beside the Mumfords having read his stories of living through rebellions and sea adventures.There was actually a fellow at our table who was publishing a book about bag pipe music.
I listened with interest to Margot Bates tell of her time as a young Telkwa beauty queen. Telkwa is a northern BC town of some 800.   Her latest book is  PS, Don't Tell Your Mother.   I talked to the man beside her,  a weathered intelligent working journalist,  who told me  motorcycle tales of a RUSH band member.  As a result I think his name is Russ but it may  well have been Charley. He was so astute in conversation that he might also  have won a Pulitzer Prize.  I was lifted out of my normal self absorption by his words and ideas.  But the turkey arrived.  I have reached an age where chowing down takes precedence over conversation.
I remember that some time later he didn't want his pumpkin pie and the waitress thought I was kidding when I said "I'll take his too then."  When she only gave me my pumpkin pie I thought immediately of consulting Perry Wilson. Perry has just published  a female detective e book series.  "Perry, what do you think of a waitress as your next victim."
There was the book draw after that. To stop ugly stampedes that have occurred in other years they call us up one at a time.  Laura was thrilled to get a book by the author of "Water for Elephants. "She lives here in Vancouver" Laura told me.  That left me wondering why she wrote about elephants.
Then we were all hugging and kissing and saying Merry Christmas and such. I still can't get over them all being some of the finest people I know personally.  I love their writing but who would guess that writers would actually be human.  It surely must be a trick of the Christmas season. Humbug.