I've helped organize the past two Short Mystery Fiction Society Bouchercon meetup meals but unfortunately have been unable to attend myself. So when the SMFS's Michael Bracken invited me to Sunday dinner while he'd be in New York City for a social media conference, I was more than happy to make it.
This year's recipient of the SMFS's Edward D. Hoch Memorial Golden Derringer for Lifetime Achievement, Michael extended the invitation to any other members in the area, and Queens-turned-Manhattanite Liz Zelvin accepted, being so kind as to fill Michael's request for a "uniquely New York" restaurant in Nizza NYC.
I arrived early to the lobby of Michael's hotel on West 37th Street, but Liz was delayed, so Michael and I walked-and-talked ahead to Nizza, continuing our chat over a meatball appetizer, until Liz arrived with a story of forgotten MetroCards and unannounced subway delays.
Liz also had free books: an anthology featuring one of her stories for Michael and her poetry book for me. Michael paid the check, and I left a generous tip to make last night a true team effort.
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To add a few embellishments, this nice Jewish girl who talks with her hands was concerned that she was monopolizing the conversation until she remembered Gerald and Michael had had all that time while she was standing on a subway platform for 45 minutes with 200 other aggravated would-be passengers, goading an irate customer who was haranguing the poor guy in what I still call the token booth by equating his inability to make nice with his probable vote in the election, and texting yet again with the guys as our taxi waited in stand-still traffic for a parade including some splendid floats in honor of the Dia de los Muertos to pass Lincoln Center. The food was delicious, the conversation was scintillating (yes, I did let them get a word in edgewise), the rest of you guys and gals from SMFS missed a delightful evening, and let's do it again some time. Nizza, btw, Gerald, is indeed the Italian name for Nice, not a version of pizza made in Nice. The dish is a socca, which was on the menu. I knew that about Nizza. In fact, it's in my historical novel Journey of Strangers. But when one reaches the age of 100 and has read so many books, a detail or two gets lost. ;)
I've just returned home to Texas, where it's a chilly 85 degrees, so I'm late to the mutual admiration society. We did, indeed, have a great time, and I want to extend an invitation to both of y'all (and any other SMFS member or mystery writer): If you're ever traveling through my part of Texas, my wife and I will be quite pleased to show you some Texas hospitality.
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