Telling Lies

Last Saturday I took part in Mystery on the Menu at the nearby (and gorgeous!) Cerritos Library.

Simon Wood was my partner in crime (there were 15 authors in total, so we were two of many, but I drove him around all day). (As a side note, it felt like old times, as we talked cars and writing and making a living. Sometimes I miss our old blog, Two For The Road.)

Simon was also the moderator of the panel I was on, in which we played the liar's game. Meaning, everyone on the panel told an anecdote, and one of us (each round) lied. Then the audience voted on who they thought was the liar.

And they didn't guess me.

What does that say? I've got an innocent face? I concocted a good story (it even had a lesson-learned)? They weren't going to suspect the one female on a panel of shifty-eyed males?

I'm not sure, but I was perhaps inappropriately proud of having gotten away with it. Which is, come to think of it, exactly how I feel when someone tells me they were totally surprised by who the killer was in one of my books.

Which leads back to the point of doing a Liar's Panel: it could be said that we lie professionally. It's strictly true, in that we all write fiction and work hard to trick the reader. It simply feels less like lying when it's not face to face.

Here's a shot of the audience from the stage. I highly recommend attending the event!