Noirs, noirs everywhere: Palm Springs hosted NoirCon and it was glorious
- Brandi Bradley
- Oct 30
- 5 min read
It’s sunny on the dark side.
I was not expecting that. Maybe I expected more a of seedy ballroom in a gritty city where I would worry about the long walk back to my room at night, but that wasn’t the case at all.
It was warm and beautiful. The sunsets are exactly like they are depicted in southwestern watercolor paintings. The food was fresh and delicious. Everyone walked around in shorts or sundresses and wore straw hats. By the time I left, I had purchased a bag of apples, some pistachio and rosewater baklava, and a straw hat for all the walking around I was doing.
And everyone was incredibly nice.
That’s what I have learned while attended conferences for mystery and noir writers – these are some of the nicest people. The volunteers are excited to be there, the panelists are old friends somehow, and while there is always that one person who dominates the mic in the Q&A, the speakers are gracious and kind. I love a conference where the vibes are high, and the vibes were especially high in the desert this past weekend.
I was at NoirCon in sunny Palm Springs, California. I was not expecting this place where I planned to read, present, and watch stories about dastardly deeds to be so fresh and lovely. Seriously, we stepped off the plane and I told my husband and logistics coordinator, “It smells so nice.” The indoor/outdoor plaza-style airport smelled like the desert rose and palo santo candles that one can purchase at the mall. This is a sharp contrast from my beloved Hartsfield-Jackson Airport which smells like Chick-fil-a and car exhaust.
NoirCon is a conference for writers and enthusiasts of noir stories: the hard-boiled detective, the femme fatale, the crime, the exposed secrets, the corruption, and more. The other writers shared stories about prison breaks, the mob, and military ops that go bad. And, of course, there was my own work about women who cannot be trusted.
I was excited because they were going to allow me to read, which always makes me both thrilled and terrified, and they were going to allow me to speak on a panel, which is great because the reason I became a teacher is because there is nothing quite like having a captive audience.
When we landed, I had all this weird energy because we had gotten up at 4 am for the flight out and then I was scheduled to read at 10:30 pm that same night. Even if I hadn’t gotten on a plane, I was going to need a disco nap, so considering I had literally traveled through time, by the time we arrived at the hotel, I was anxious, exhausted, and incapable of settling down because my head was being turned by everything that I saw around me. I was like one of those kids who needed a nap, big time but kept screaming, “I’M NOT TIRED!”
I took a nap, but it didn’t help. We grabbed dinner before-hand and all I could tell my husband was, “I’m so nervous. I’m so anxious. I’m so nervous.” He didn’t even have the solace of blocking me out by watching a game on the TV because all the ones above our heads were all tuned to Young Sheldon. But he was a sport, kept me calm, and made sure the Uber took us to the right location.
I haven’t asked this question in a while, but I wonder if other spouses of writers are incredibly bored with with being forced to attend these events. Like my husband goes to some of my events and he hears me read, and it’s nice because not only does he get to hear what I am doing but also how people respond to what I’m doing. But I know the real allure of a trip like this is the amount of time he can spend ordering room service. Sometimes I feel like we’ve morphed into the couple at the end of Tombstone who define their idea of heaven as room service.
The crowd for my reading was generous. They allowed me to be the first person to share, and I was glad I had cut it down to nine minutes, because to go over time meant you were played off the stage with the sound of a Halloween chainsaw. The crowd laughed at right spots and then complimented my piece later. After my set, I treated myself to a Mildred Pierce, which was a specialty cocktail for the event with mezcal, pomegranate, and Aperol.
By the time we left, it was midnight West Coast time, which made it four am East Coast time, and I was glad I warned Hubs before we left that he would have to be in charge of telling me what time it was the whole trip.
The rest of the conference was screenings of movies. I watched Suddenly with Frank Sinatra and Gideon’s Day directed by John Ford, which came with interesting commentary and criticism by smarty-pants professors and scholars. And when I walked outside the theatre where they were hosting the screenings, I was surrounded by a farmers market. One of the vendors lured me over, fed me multiple samples of his desserts because he said, “I’m worried about your coloring; you need more sugar” and then independently inquired whether cannabis helped with my creative process.
The next morning, I was allowed the opportunity to speak on a panel with three other writers, Pete Duval, Mark Powell, and Alexander Boldizar about writing noirs in places that are not typically associated with noirs. We had a great discussion about rural noir, Catholic noir, Time-Travel Noir, and of course, some of our favorite noir pieces that aren’t always considered noir. What was so interesting was when we were introducing ourselves, we all realized we had connections in Western Kentucky or had been at the same university at the same time.
After the panel, I rushed out thinking I had a plane to catch, only to learn it had been delayed by several hours. I took that as an opportunity to be a tourist, visiting the many statues of the city, including the enormous Marilyn Monroe statue who looks like an incredibly glamorous Attack of the 50 Foot Woman movie poster. The stores and attractions were all walking distance to my hotel room. I bought a fan, a hat, and a new bag which accompanied me on the plane when we finally flew out.
Yesterday a friend told me he enjoyed the conference he attended because it seemed to him like it was completely absent of ego, and I tend to agree that the smaller and specific genre conferences mostly seem to be full of people who simply love doing what they are doing. They love talking about writing and sharing what they know. They love laughing about the things that are specific about that type of writing.
My fall travels are over for the book business this season, but I will still be making appearances at local bookstores and am looking forward to the spring schedule. But hopefully now I can focus on spending time with my kids during the holiday season.
If you are like my husband and have started your holiday shopping now, be sure to check out brandibradley.com shop for books, short stories, and maybe that online class you’ve been thinking about.
XOXO,
B.
Comments