introducing buttermilk corvid

the place she was staying had an enormous pool.  she'd been watching people swim laps all morning.  they seemed to have a purpose about it, maybe they were practicing for olympic trials.  after about twenty minutes she had found it incredibly boring, but had been unable to look away.  it was like a train wreck, other people's motivations.  but she borrowed the metaphor alright:  she plunged through the door icy, brisk, whatever, to swim her way through whatever the hell they expected of her today.  why did people come to hear her speak?  it didn't make any kind of sense to her.  if they liked her books that was great, thank you, but what did they expect beyond that, she couldn't fathom.

good morning  she said swooping around the room trying to disturb anyone in a restful mood, what are we about this morning?

here she looked significantly at the person she had identified as:  introduce the speaker placeholder.  why am i here?  she thought, really hard, at the ISavatar.

for those of you who are mystery readers the woman before you needs no introduction.  author of  the elements murders, careful, you may not want what's behind door number ?, the taffy pinkerton series, and her new book blue kitchen first book of the new out of time series.  she is here to share with us, writers and readers alike--  what is the mystery of mystery writing.  this is not really a writing class and not really a lecture--  it's more of an informal exchange of ideas designed to get you thinking.

shit, she remembered writing that last part.  that's why there were so many people here--  they wanted to pick her brains. ...brains...brains...brains...  probably needed to write a zombie book soon, that's popular now, right.  hell is other people.