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It’s the latest it’s the greatest it’s the Library

Anyone remember that jingle? It’s from so long ago I can’t even say when. I’ve always been a big fan of libraries, especially the New York Public Library, my hometown system. Never as much as now, however. Because of construction in the apartment above me, I’ve been forced to flee and find other places to write. That’s how I discovered Malcolm Gladwell’s café (no, he doesn’t own it, he just writes there) and some other fine spots around the city; but by far the best is the DeWitt Wallace Periodical Room at the 42nd Street Library. The building where the reservoir used to be (there, a fact for free) with the lions, Patience and Fortitude, flanking the steps outside. You sit here surrounded by other hard-working people — some of them actually reading periodicals — and by carved moldings, high windows, and frescoes of NYC buildings, with faux-marble frames. What writer couldn’t get something done here?

carved ceiling 30 feet above our heads

high window and hard-working people

fresco with faux-marble frame

Forty-third Saturday

October 24, 2015 / SJ Rozan / No comments

Single gray timber
Stands in thick brown piling field.
River rises, falls.

Five helicopters
Strumming separately south.
High up, plane heads north.

White-and-blue ferry
Crosses paths with yellow tug
Passing fading hills.

Bouchercon basketball

October 23, 2015 / SJ Rozan / 2 comments

This year’s game was great — good gym, good bunch of players. Herewith, some photos.

Team photo.

Setting up the teams. (Which involves me running my mouth yet again.)

White scores.

Black scores.

I block out Colin Campbell.

Official scorecard.

River report

October 22, 2015 / SJ Rozan / No comments

The grass is still green and thriving, but the leaves are fading, crisping brown at the tips, or turning glorious colors as they variously will. The air is cool, though not yet cold. The wind has started to raise sharper waves on the river. The gray slate pathway is dotted with gold and tan, this leaf-trickle soon to be a flood. Many of the migrating birds have come and gone. The local mallards and Canada geese are still here, as are the local cormorants, though bands of cormorants can be seen overhead heading to their winter quarters. Yesterday, to my surprise, a sloppy V of Brant geese raced chaotically south along the river. Way too early for them in the usual way of things, but climate change being what it is, they must have had a good reason for leaving the Arctic this soon. I hope they find a welcome where they’re going.

Forty-second Saturday

October 17, 2015 / SJ Rozan / No comments

Gull turns head, looks back,

Sits like floating crescent moon,

White on blue water.

Bright sun, chill north wind.

First time in this waning year

Jacket feels too light.

River’s sharp ripples,

Helicopter’s rattling thrum,

Shaking, fraying leaves.

Forty-first Saturday, from Raleigh, NC, one week late*

October 17, 2015 / SJ Rozan / No comments

Sweep of brown oak leaves

Rustling along red walkway

Past black café chairs.

Apple muffin crumbs.

Small brown birds hop hopefully.

Steam rises from tea.

Sun bounces off glass.

Brick-paved plaza’s split in two —

Light here, shadow there.

*because I only just located them, that’s why

Up early, and up to no good

October 13, 2015 / SJ Rozan / One comment

Margaret Maron, Laurie King, and me, being nefarious at the Sisters in Crime breakfast at Bouchercon, Raleigh, NC.

Some great moments from Bouchercon

October 12, 2015 / SJ Rozan / 4 comments

Hearing from a Japanese-American at the panel I moderated — Far East Mysteries — that she’d felt trepidation when she came into the room and saw five white people on the panel, but she was impressed with and won over by the discussion. (Don’t start with me. A lot of the Asian writers didn’t come and the ones who did had other panels.)

Playing a really fun game of basketball at a great rec center.

Lunch and a long discussion of trips to China and Mongolia with Michael Wiley.

Catching up with Rob Lopresti, who has a terrific new book called GREENFELLAS, and his wife Terri Weiner. Two people I don’t see often enough.

And speaking of people I don’t see often enough, sitting with Ted Fitzgerald and Brendan Dubois at the Private Eye Writers dinner, where I got to see Reed Farrel Coleman lose to a book with a dog on the cover.

A cup of tea and a good conversation with Wendy Corsi Staub, another person I don’t see often enough. Ditto Bob Randisi and Christine Matthews.

Two excellent nights of poker, interrupted only by the baseball game news, since a couple of players had MLB.com on their phones streaming live.

A panel on pace where I was panelist, nor moderator. That was the expert Alex Sokoloff. We all figured, if this panel sagged, that would prove something right there…

Going to sign stock in the book room and finding I was all sold out.

Dinner with Steve Hamilton, Deron Bissett, and a couple of other people. We talked of shoes and ships and sealing wax, but not about the book business. Ahh…

I didn’t take many photos, but other people did. Will share them as they come in.

Fortieth Saturday

October 3, 2015 / SJ Rozan / No comments

Young grackle’s sweet call

Rises over traffic’s whoosh.

Another answers.

Runners get respite.

Rain abates, fades to thick mist.

Sneakers splash on stone.

Bedraggled pigeon.

Calm in storm, no time to groom.

Eat now, preen later.

Queens International Night Market

September 27, 2015 / SJ Rozan / No comments

Went out to Jamaica, Queens, last night to the Night Market. Pop-up night markets like this — food (very cheap), local goods, music — are common in Asia, taking over parking lots, plazas, and sometimes (e.g. Hong Kong) entire streets. They’re a new phenomenon in the US, but I sure hope they catch on!

The night