A week ago, I turned in my rewrites to my agent. Three days later, I reported for conference duty. Along with a whole team of amazing writers, I’d spent the past year helping to organize the inaugural California Crime Writers Conference. Four tracks, 150 writers, 50 faculty (give or take), two days and one worn out yours truly.

I’m more than a little punch drunk.

If you’re a crime fiction fan, we had Robert Crais, Laurie R. King, Christopher Rice (son of Anne Rice – yes, the Anne Rice – and a best seller in his own right), Gayle Lynds, Jan Burke and more.

I ran the business track, putting together classes on book contracts, touring, public speaking, editing, e-publishing, agent-client relations, self-promotion. All the stuff that writers spend half their time on that isn’t writing.

And can I be honest here? We kicked butt. It couldn’t have gone better.

Now, if I could just have one little nap…