SJ Rozan

Bella fans: big step forward tonight. My co-op board met here in my apartment. With the first knock on the door Bella was outta here, streaking from the living room to hide under the bed. An hour later, though, to my astonishment, she wandered into the living room just far enough to rub against my leg — I was sitting nearest the doorway — get a little chin scratch, look around to see where everyone was, and calmly retreat again. After the meeting I went to the bedroom to see what was up, and there she was sitting on the bed. Never before has she been so brave in the presence of so many. Go Bella!

Thursday, Sept. 19, 4:00 pm

The Toastmaster Turns the Tables

Steve Hamilton talks with

William Kent Krueger

Elizabeth Cosin

Reed Farrel Coleman

SJ Rozan

Friday, Sept. 20, 9:00 am

Dancing with the Supernatural

Dana Cameron

Toni Kelner

Michael Nethercott

Andrew Pyper

SJ Rozan

Saturday, Sept. 21, 7:00 pm

Lifetime Achievement Award interview with

Sue Grafton

or wherever fine caffeine is served.

Now, for those of you in NYC and not going to Bouchercon, I’m rushing back Sunday to do a panel at the Brooklyn Book Festival:

Sunday, Sept. 22, 1:00 P.M.

Sin City: Every city has its secrets.

K’wan Foye

Albert “Prodigy” Johnson

Ivy Pochoda

Miasha

moderated by SJ Rozan

See you soon!

Together on the backyard fence, four pretty doves. Don’t usually see so many — must be parents and a late brood. Sunlight startlingly bright today but wind equally startlingly cold. Also, not as much warmth from the sunlight as in the past few days. At the river today, first leaves spiraling into the water. Note to doves: once the trees are bare, do not hang out on that fence. Pip the redtail hawk uses it as a dining table.

Five geese flying low

Skimming river’s rough surface

Into cold north wind.

Sun slips along path

Sliding post’s shadow on stone:

An unmarked sundial.

Joggers still in shorts,

But dogwalkers wear jackets

And stroller kids, scarves.

Cool air, overcast. Most birds gone south, the ones that are going, though a family of ducks is still paddling up and down the river. These ducklings were born late, so they’re not ready to go yet. It’s okay, they still have time. Leaving the river today, I was stopped by an NYPD car with blinking lights planted in the crosswalk. North on the highway I could see another one. No car traffic on the southbound side. Why? Bicycles and racing wheelchairs come rushing south, all the riders uniformed, waving, yelling, “Thanks for waiting!” as they sweep by. It was a Ride 2 Recovery. Took less than two minutes for everyone to breeze past. Highway re-opened, back to business. I love New York.

Game will be Saturday, Sept. 21, at noon, at the Washington Avenue Armory, 195 Washington St. That’s a few blocks from the Convention Center. Meet at 11:30 at the B’con registration desk in the Convention Center. Anyone can play, including spouses, kids, etc. Even if you can’t play, you can play. (Otherwise why would I let me in?) Spectators welcome, too, by the way. Bring your shoes and two tee shirts, one dark and one light, so we can divide up the teams. We’ll play for an hour, so you’ll have plenty of time to go back and shower and reappear at B’con at 2:00 with your heartbeat just beginning to slow.

From “Two Songs for Hedli Anderson”

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

— W.H. Auden

Now I’m a total fan. How fabulous is this?

I got my China visa!

Coming up in October, my fifth trip to China, and I gotta tell ya, it gets harder every time. China claims to be interested in building both tourism and business relationships with foreigners, but no one’s told the visa people. The sheaf of papers you need to go to the Consulate with is a quarter-inch thick, and now for the first time includes your airline ticket. What, they think having a return ticket guarantees I won’t overstay my visa? And one typo, and forget it, you go home and re-do it and come back.

I thought when I went last week that I was pretty slick, having noticed that as of Sept. 1 they had a whole new form to use, and having made multiple copies after I filled it out so in case they didn’t like the way I affixed (their word) my visa photo to it (I used double-sided tape) I could staple it, or glue it. But it turns out I wasn’t slick enough. I had the dreaded Missing Piece of Paper — or rather, I didn’t have it. So now I tell you this for free: when printing out your airline ticket to prove you have one, do not print it from the United website where your reservations are stored in your account. No, no. Print it from the confirming email they sent you. Why? Because the one in your account folder doesn’t have your name on it. Really not. Because it’s your folder already. And the lady behind Window #2 wanted to be sure the ticket I was showing her was really mine. What to do? Go all the way the hell home, print the &^#%@! thing out,and come all the way the hell back? Why, no. Talk to the security guard, the Window #2 lady tells me. It’s in your email, yes? Yes indeed. Well, then, the guard can tell you where around here to find a printer.

So I ask the guard. He hands me a business card without blinking; this must happen a hundred times a day. Kinko’s, I’m thinking, or Office Max. Nope. The Happy Family Chinese Restaurant, two blocks away. Mind you, it’s 9:30 am. But it’s nearby, so I go there. Place is dark but door is open. I walk in. Two women folding napkins at a table, another taking the stems off string beans. Guy behind the register says to me, “What do you need?” To print my airline ticket for the Consulate, I tell him. “From email?” Yes. “Computer and printer in the back.” I go in back, sign on, find the email, make sure my name’s on it, hit print, collect the paper, go back to the front. He wants five bucks. Way too much for a two-page print job, but on the other hand, a cheap price to save my morning. I go back, cut to the front of the Window #2 lady’s line the way she told me to do. She looks the ticket over, writes on it, staples it to all my other stuff, and tells me to come back today. When they do this, they keep your passport so they can affix your visa to it. So for a week I am passportless, and wondering if they will, in fact, welcome me with open arms when I go back.

And lo! they did. I paid the visa fee — which has also gone up — and walked out with my passport, with its new visa affixed.

I’m looking forward to this trip, which is to Yunnan Province, a part of China I haven’t seen. Still, I have to say, as foreign destinations go, Canada is looking better and better.

Sky cloudless but pale.

Seagulls float like bathtub toys

On empty river.

Various ripples —

Woven wire, stipples, silk —

Lift, fall over swell.

Single red tugboat

Rushing south, churns white water

In front and behind.

And there’s a book of my haiku if you want more.