It was earlier this year when an odd coincidence happened. I happened to stumble across an advert for Death In The Dales, a crime fiction book festival in Sedbergh, that just happened to feature many, many friends of the blog – Martin Edwards, Kate Ellis, Mike Craven, Frances Brody, Tom Mead and Dolores Gordon-Smith. It’s a bit of a drive, but for some reason, they don’t do crime festivals in the Midlands, so I thought it was maybe worth a trip. It was right at the beginning of my half-term, so I didn’t have to worry too much about getting back on the Sunday late, so I was considering it.

And then the very next day, Dolores messaged me directly and asked if I was going. So I couldn’t say no to that. Little did I know what was going to happen…

Anyway, I set off on Friday – due to some stuff in school last year, staff are allowed to choose a day’s leave, provided it doesn’t hit too many classes (thank you, House Music Competition!) – heading for Kendal. I could not find any affordable accommodation in Sedbergh – I think the speakers nabbed it all well in advance – and Kendal was only 9 miles away. Note to self – roads in the Dales/Lakes are not nice and straight and can’t be driven at top speed. So it was actually about half an hour away, but the hotel was comfy. Apart from the bed. And the shower temperature. And the parking – “use the cricket club nearby, but we won’t tell you that when you get back it will be rammed full of motorhomes and people getting p*ssed in said cricket club”. The staff were very friendly though…

Anyway, moaning aside, I set off for the opening event on Friday night – Pizza and Film Noir. The film in question, introduced by expert Matthew Booth, was Fritz Lang’s Scarlet Street, starring Edward G Robinson and some other people who had trouble convincing with the material given, shall we say? Now, I’m not expert or fan of the genre – hardly seen any of it – but the core plot, of Robinson’s Chris Cross wanting more out of life but falling for femme fatale Kitty Marsh (Joan Bennett) who strings him along at the beck and call of her “boyfriend” Johnny (Dan Duryea), thinking him to be a rich and famous artist is pretty strong, as is the direction of the story. Robinson is excellent, although there are occasions where his complete blindness to Kitty’s behaviour undermined the character. Bennett and Duryea though were, to me, the problem as they never convinced me, seeming to be in a different film than Robinson. Oh, and a word to the wise, if someone comes at you with an ice axe, a duvet is not axe-proof…

Anyway, back to the hotel, and one night’s sleep and a slightly undercooked breakfast later (the black pudding – the rest was excellent), I was back at Sedbergh, little expecting what was to come.

The first panel was fantastic – two authors who produce books from different ends of the crime spectrum, Martin Edwards and M W Craven, sharing their experiences and showing far more commonalities with their writing styles and experiences that you would think. I made extensive notes on this one, but I’m not going into them as I didn’t make notes on the rest of the proceeding for one good reason.

At the break, Dolores Gordon-Smith grabbed me. Now Dolores is great – a great writer and great company – we spent a great evening at Alibis In The Archive a few years ago, along with her husband and Len Tyler failing to win a trivia quiz, one of my fondest memories of my various conference trips. Anyway, the fourth panel of the day was on The Golden Age, featuring Dolores, Martin, Tom Mead and Frances Brody. Only Frances couldn’t be there, so Christine Poulson would compere instead. Only Christine ended up unable to do it either. And similarly Tom Mead. So Dolores replaced Christine replacing Frances as compere. Matthew Booth replaced Tom. And they needed an expert of the Golden Age to fill a chair – and she asked me.

I proceeded to spend the next talk finding it hard to make notes as my hand was genuinely shaking. I discretely (I hoped) messaged Kate Jackson for a bit of advice, which was a bit difficult as there wasn’t any real specific focus on the Golden Age, but she was very helpful in boosting my confidence. Oh, the talk, that was on writing in a unique location, with contributions from Angela Wren (mid-France), Lea O’Harra (Japan) and David Beckler (China), moderated by Marsali Taylor.

After lunch, Julia Chapman was “in conversation” with Jean Briggs, although it was more of an interview with Jean asking Julia about her “Dales” series. Going to be honest here, I think I’d have got more out of this if I’d read any of the ten book series. It was interesting, but I did feel that I maybe should have done some background reading. I was hoping too to hear a bit more about Jean’s Charles Dickens series.

And then it was time for my grand debut on the conference stage. Martin gave me a glowing introduction (partly as Jean Briggs, the MC for the event still wasn’t sure who I was, introducing me as Steve, the Mystery Guest) but I think I did a good job talking about Carr and his ability to hide murderers being overlooked due to the locked room murders, and the necessary differences between classic Golden Age mysteries and the good modern pastiches. Even managed to get a sideways pop at Superintendent Alleyn, just for good measure…

[Just in case I’ve triggered the Marsh fans again, all I did was use his character development over the series – he got married – as an example to compare to the character development of sleuths in modern books. An example chosen completely at random, honest…]

In the break, I had a nice chat with Marsali Taylor, author of the Shetland Sailing Mysteries about John Dickson Carr. Marsali wrote a guest post on this here blog for the first book, now retitled Death On A Shetland Longship and despite really liking the book, I’ve never returned to the series. I am going to correct that very soon.

Matthew Booth then treated us to his history of Agatha Christie, complete with various voices. Nothing in it that I wasn’t aware of, but it was a very entertaining precis of her life and career. Although I would question The ABC Murders being possibly the first serial killer novel – because it’s not. The Murders In Praed Street by John Rhode pre-dates it by eight years, and Philp Macdonald’s Murder Gone Mad by five.

After dinner with Dolores in a local pub (rather pricey, but a very nice fish and chips didn’t hurt the wallet too much), the evening ended with a murder mystery play written by Kate Ellis, the tale of a murdered cook – but was it the lady of the manor (Marsali Taylor), her trusted companion (Fiona Veitch-Smith), the visiting medium (Dea Parkin) or the dodgy gardener (Anthony Johnston)? The cast threw themselves into it with gusto – it was a wonderful set of performances. Not showing off at all (honest) but I did guess the murderer, but I’ll admit, it was a bit of a guess.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t stay for the Sunday events – despite having a lot of time to talk to the authors and presenters, there’s still plenty I want to ask them (as long as the answers aren’t blocked by Ian Fleming’s estate). But there’s always next time.

A big thank you to the organisers, to Dolores again for my forty-five minutes of fame, for the audience for putting up with this mystery guest and for everyone I chatted to – especially the ones who said nice things after the talk!

And if anyone else wants a “Golden Age Expert” in the future, and Martin, Dolores, Matthew, Frances, Christine, Tom, Tony Medawar, John Curran and countless others aren’t available – give me a shout!