On a related note, Julia Holmes and I participated in a roundtable on first books for Hobart recently. We had the chance to discuss the editorial process, as well as a host of other matters. Many fine writers were involved, and you can read the whole conversation here.

What else? Soon I leave for Germany, to speak to the German people about Handbuch für Detektive. But first I’m off to a super secret stronghold in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Speaking of which, here’s a little video about beards.

You have to give them back, though.

The paperback tour for The Manual of Detection brought me on Thursday to Portland, OR. It was my first time in that city, though I knew a bit about it from the many friends who live(d) there, and from Benjamin Parzybok’s novel Couch. I made the pilgrimage to the Powell’s mothership, did an interview for Reading Local, bought a pile of zines and ephemera from Reading Frenzy, then read to a wonderfully warm crowd at Powell’s on Hawthorne while the rain pattered on the roof. Ben Parzybok was there, and after I refused to answer his question during the Q&A, we went to a Thai restaurant called Pok Pok. There, I was faced with a conundrum: Do I eat boar? It turns out that yes, under the right circumstances, I do eat boar.

I was telling Ben and his wife, writer Laura Moulton, and their friend, writer Lisa Hoashi, about how much I appreciate the yellow umbrellas, made available for public use, that I’d been seeing around the Northwest. They said they had no idea what I was talking about, but then, right there in front of Pok Pok, we spotted a repository of these umbrellas, so they knew I wasn’t crazy.

It's like a hall of mirrors, except with books instead of mirrors.

I wish I could have seen more of Portland, but it was off to Berkeley the next day for a signing at Dark Carnival. This is an extraordinary place, a labyrinth of science fiction, fantasy, and mystery books, spilling out of the shelves to pile over the carpet and the stairs. You have to climb over the kids reading comics on the floor and duck under inflatable monsters to find what you’re looking for—in my case a copy of Gene Wolfe’s The Urth of the New Sun.

At Dark Carnival I made some more mystery bookmarks. This one here is waiting in a copy of The Manual of Detection for someone to find.

Later I was reunited, after eleven years, with my friend Deborah Steinberg, a writer who also sings in Conspiracy of Venus (check out their cover of Rain Dogs!). We attended a MediaARTS event curated by Tanya Vlach, which was a bit like a rave, except everyone was in theater seats and watching—well, it’s hard to describe. How about: “an exhibition of the intersection of emerging technology, performance, and the moving image attempting to compute what it means to love and to lose.” The performance by Ghosts and Strings was especially good, and I also liked the floating video cube that ocul8r made.

On Saturday I visited the Belmont Library, saw the headquarters of Tachyon Publications, and read with Laurie R. King for the SF in SF series. Among the many fine people in attendance was Edward Gauvin, whose excellent translations of stories by Georges-Olivier Châteaureynaud are forthcoming in book form from Small Beer Press.

I had an early flight home the next day, and just when I thought I might meet someone who isn’t a writer, it turned out that my cab driver has written four books, including this one.

I guess now it’s time to write something other than blog posts, mystery bookmarks, and LOST haiku for a while.

Goodbye, goodbye, California.

A few updates from the road. I had some extra time in Chicago, so I went with my friend Sondra (snailsaregood.blogspot.com) to visit the Art Institute, which is free in February (thanks, Big Shoulders!).

The French sure know how to promenade.

We explored the excellent collection of impressionist art, visited the American wing, and then spent some time among the Thorne Miniature Rooms, which make one wish for a shrink ray. I saw the work of Ivan Albright for the first time; his Picture of Dorian Grey is appropriately nightmarish, and it’s hard to stand in front of it for long. The Art Institute has on display some iconic works of American art, which are always worth seeing in person, if only because the experience can breathe fresh life into too-familiar images. There’s one bench with a view of both American Gothic and Nighthawks—I highly recommend sitting on that bench for a while.

The reading at 57th Street Books was an intimate affair—there was a blizzard on its way—but those in attendance had some great questions, and I made everyone a bookmark. Everyone , that is, except the gentleman who left a bit early, as though to avoid the matter of bookmarks as soon as I brought it up.

That blizzard kept me in Chicago an extra day, and that’s when the extraordinary news came in that The Manual of Detection is a finalist for the 2010 Hammett Prize. Here’s the full lists of nominees:

• Megan Abbott, BURY ME DEEP (Simon & Schuster)
• Ace Atkins, DEVIL’S GARDEN (Putnam)
• Jedediah Berry, THE MANUAL OF DETECTION (The Penguin Press)
• Walter Mosley, THE LONG FALL (Riverhead)
• George Pelecanos, THE WAY HOME (Little, Brown)

I’m deeply honored to be in such fine company, and it’s especially exciting to see Megan Abbott on the list. I had the opportunity to do a reading with Megan last year, and I’ve been a fan of her work ever since. More information on the Hammett Prize is available from the International Association of Crime Writers.

I’ve now arrived in Seattle, where I just signed books at Seattle Mystery Bookshop. I made some more bookmarks there, and wrote about that and some other things for the store’s blog.

Tonight at 7 I’ll read at The Elliott Bay Book Company. If you’re in the area, I hope you’ll come by. It’s raining, but if this tube of lip balm I found today is any indication, then there are plenty of umbrellas in this town.

In addition to reading from The Manual of Detection (just out in paperback), I may also read something new, something that changes every time I read it because it’s written on a pile of index cards that I shuffle every day. Also, I’ll be giving away handcrafted bookmarks, each with a mystery conjured just for you, on the spot.

Other ways to track my movements: facebook, twitter, booktour, spy satellite. I hope that I’m coming to your town and I hope you’ll say hello.

Monday, February 8, 6pm
Seminary Co-op
57th Street Books
1301 East 57th Street, Chicago, IL

Wednesday, February 10, 12pm
Seattle Mystery Bookshop
117 Cherry Street, Seattle, WA

Wednesday, February 10, 7pm
Elliott Bay Book Company
101 S Main Street, Seattle, WA

Thursday, February 11, 7:30pm
Powell’s Books on Hawthorne
3723 SE Hawthorne Boulevard, Portland, OR

Friday, February 12, 5:30pm
Dark Carnival Books
3086 Claremont Avenue, Berkeley, CA

Saturday, February 13, 1:30pm
Belmont Library
1110 Alameda de Las Pulgas, Belmont, CA

Saturday, February 13, 7pm
Variety Preview Room
582 Market Street @ Montgomery
San Francisco, CA

My full schedule is below. I will also spend a lot of time at the Small Beer Press table in the stuff-for-sale room, hoping you will come say hello to me.

Friday 12:00 Noon, Vineyard: Group Reading

ReaderconJunctions: Betwixt the Between Group Reading. Jedediah Berry, Elizabeth Hand, James Morrow

Readings from issue #52 (Spring 2009) of Conjunctions, titled “Betwixt the Between: Impossible Realism” and edited by Brian Evenson and Bradford Morrow. “Postfantasy fictions that begin with the premise that the unfamiliar or liminal really constitutes a solid ground on which to walk.”

Friday 6:00 PM, Salon E: Panel

Reality and Dream in Fiction.  Jedediah Berry, Michael Cisco (L), Caitlin R. Kiernan, Yves Meynard, Patrick O’Leary, Gene Wolfe

“It seems almost like a dream that has slowly faded.” “Not to me,” said Frodo. “To me it seems more like falling asleep again.” Some books create a world so engaging and convincing it seems more real than reality. Others (e.g., Gene Wolfe’s There are Doors) seem like dreams from which we awaken. What elements in fiction create these disparate effects? Are they mutually exclusive?

Sunday 1:00 PM, ME/ CT: Panel

The Readercon Book Club: China Miéville’s The City & The City.  Jedediah Berry, John Clute, Jim Freund (M), Glenn Grant, Graham Sleight

At the center of former Readercon GoH China Miéville’s new novel is a stunning, beautiful conceit that is revealed, in its basic dimensions, over the first six or so chapters. Reading these was about the most fun we’ve had with speculative fiction in years—and the book then gets even better. The reader gets a taste of the lived experience of a world existentially very peculiar, in prose much sparer than Miéville usually writes. That the conceit is revealed early makes the novel difficult to discuss without spoilers, so we urge you to read it before reading any reviews. And then come to this panel!