A Visual Representation of My Literary Workshop Critique Style

Comments

1. Jeff Hentosz says:
   October 9, 2010 at 3:00 pm

   “Power is tearing human minds apart and putting them back together in new shapes of your own choosing,” said O’Scalzi. “If you want a vision of the writing life, Winston, imagine an editorial boot stamping on an authorial face forever.”

   ::brrrr:: Hate that part.
2. Sän says:
   October 9, 2010 at 3:05 pm

   You can tell that guy is really good at cowering, because he can accurately fake it in this photo.
3. Chang says:
   October 9, 2010 at 3:39 pm

   Yeah in mine though your foot was about thigh deep in my heiny.
4. LihuaEmily says:
   October 9, 2010 at 3:51 pm

   WHOA I love that green hair.
5. Gary Willis says:
   October 9, 2010 at 3:53 pm

   Good for you spending the time with family. You do a fine blog site here, Sir Scalzi. But at times I worry you spend too much time on your professional activities and this site. In our culture I fear we all often spend too much time on the urgent rather than the important.
6. Steve says:
   October 9, 2010 at 4:09 pm

   You neglected to mention that this workshop was in Gotham City.
7. John Murphy says:
   October 9, 2010 at 4:11 pm

   Yeah… We’ll miss that guy. But when it comes to the serial comma, sometimes you have to put your foot down.
8. Gwendar says:
   October 9, 2010 at 4:16 pm

   #7 John Murphy – Ouch.
9. Dave H says:
   October 9, 2010 at 4:19 pm

   For future reference, you’ll want to secure those bootlaces before a session. (Duct tape is suitable.) If they dangle like that they can get caught in the supplicant’s piercings and become a trip hazard.

   See? It says so right here in the OSHA (Oppressing Students and Hopeful Authors) manual.
10. Nathreee says:
    October 9, 2010 at 5:56 pm

    On the up-side, at least your foot is not in your mouth, that would make a whole different picture.
11. Isaac says:
    October 9, 2010 at 6:31 pm

    Tie your shoes properly, you damn hippie.
12. kmccmack says:
    October 9, 2010 at 7:08 pm

    Nice boots, where can I get a pair like that?
13. Jay Lake says:
    October 9, 2010 at 7:09 pm

    Poor Sän…
14. Michael says:
    October 9, 2010 at 7:48 pm

    Hi,

    As someone who teaches karate to teenagers, that looks familiar. There is something intensely satisfying about chasing a teen (esp a mouthy one) around the room hitting them, then finishing it off with something like that…

    Parents love it! Heck, they even pay for it!!!!

    Cheers

    Michael

    PS then again some idiot instructor usually teaches them how to hit back!
15. eileensc says:
    October 9, 2010 at 8:25 pm

    Hey! That man drew me an iguana!
16. Elizabeth Coleman says:
    October 9, 2010 at 8:46 pm

    Considering the violent red eyes, can this be described as, “exorcising the literary demons?”
17. Deborah says:
    October 9, 2010 at 9:19 pm

    *makes note not to ask Scalzi to read manuscript… at least not without noseplugs.*
18. ellid says:
    October 9, 2010 at 10:25 pm

    There is but one suitable reply:

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5kGUW6M7W0
19. Xelgaex says:
    October 9, 2010 at 11:19 pm

    So this is a picture of the future?

    /Orwell
20. uglybadbear says:
    October 10, 2010 at 1:20 am

    cool shoes :)
21. Keffy says:
    October 10, 2010 at 2:58 am

    Yeah, well. Those of us who know him know he probably deserved it.

    Ha!
22. Spencer Ellsworth says:
    October 11, 2010 at 1:02 am

    I shared a room with Sän and I can definitely say that I deserved it more than he did. Way to drop the ball, Scalzors.
23. John Scalzi says:
    October 11, 2010 at 7:09 am

    Spencer, who doesn’t realize my plans for him are JUST BEGINNING.
24. opheliasbooks says:
    October 11, 2010 at 8:43 pm

    “These shoes are mine, bitch.”
25. Spencer Ellsworth says:
    October 18, 2010 at 9:38 am

    I knew I was ****ed when I said I wanted to be the “other science fiction writer married to a Chrissy…” The ScalziBeast is fiercely protective of his territory, Ch and K notwithstanding.

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