University of Chicago Magazine Article

My alumni magazine printed up an article on me for its November/December issue; the online version is here. I’m already getting e-mails from fellow U of C folks; fortunately none of them so far have said “Christ, you’ve gotten bald since the last time I saw you.” Although, generally speaking, that would be a true statement. Along with the article, incidentally, there’s a lovely picture by Erica Hardesty showing just how bald I’ve gotten. Although, you know, that’s not the primary focus of the picture. I’m going to stop talking about being bald now.

On to other news: Ethan my agent has gotten a sales statement from Tor which says that The Ghost Brigades is now officially earned out, and then some, which is good — yay! — but thanks to the dreaded reserve on returns I don’t get any of my sweet, sweet royalty money until the next reporting period at the earliest — boo! That’s okay. I only would have spent it on something frivolous (cough) like new therapies (cough cough) for a my drug-resistant strain (hack cough hack) of tuberculosis.

Oh, look. I just barfed up a lung. Better stuff that back in.

Gaaaah! An e-mail just came in discussing my hair! I better quit now while I’m ahead.

24 Comments on “University of Chicago Magazine Article”

  1. Well, if you’ve already coughed up the lung, I guess you don’t really need those therapies anymore.

    Congrats on the article. Now lets start a poll to see how long it takes before the first, “wouldn’t you like to give money to your nice Alma Mater” starts. I say, Saturday morning, before 11.

  2. I’m very close to earn-out after a year of perpetual a.m. radio call-ins, B&N visits and internet give-aways.

    I received a container of candy today from my editor, and immediately called to say ‘thanks.’

    ME: “Greatly appreciate the gesture…It’s been a wild year, and I’m forever grateful to you for taking a chance on my book. The candy is a beautiful touch. Thank you.”

    EDITOR: “It’s left-overs from Halloween, dumbass.”

  3. It’s a very nice article. I’m sure you’re very pleased and should be. The Starbuck’s writers really do crack me up. I couldn’t write a grocery list in public. I have to go to my little room with no toys and sit in the dreaded chair.

  4. It’s my understanding that baldness and tuberculosis are correlated.

    Crap. You mean my lungs are gonna go next?

  5. “It’s my understanding that baldness and tuberculosis are correlated.”
    Hmmm. If thats true then a couple tubes of Rogaine should clear that cough right up!

  6. As if Mr. Scalzi’s ego needed additional fluffing. Bunch of superfluous ego fluffers over there at UofC Alumni Magazine, so it seems. Let this be notice to them that we have the ego fluffing well in hand right here.

    Seriously, congrats. Nice write up.

  7. Two questions.

    1. What’s AB, etc. after the names?

    2. What’s the number 1 blog entry?

    And gee, we have to call it “The Whatever” now? Doesn’t that miss the point?

  8. Reading your contemplation of losing hair, taping bacon to the cat and other ruminations, I’m wondering if you get an electric shaver as a gift that you might use it to shave the cat. Alternatively, have you considered using the cat to cover your dome? It might look better than the roadkill on top of Donald Trump’s head.

    P.S. No offense on your balding head. It is a fact of life for most men.

  9. 1. What’s AB, etc. after the names?

    It’s the nerd way of saying Bachelor of Arts. There are a few universities out that still use that designation instead of more common BA.

    Tom Nixon

  10. Congrats on the article! Finally, something interesting to read in the alumni rag.

    Don’t forget to carry a dainty handkerchief for your tuberculosis, and be prepared to sing a long aria as you expire in the last act.

  11. Alison B.- Good one.

    The 16th Ohio Battery took heavy casualties and the men ran far and wide to dodge the Rebel lead following down like hell-rain. For days, the brave men of the 16th hid in the frozen wilderness and awaited respite from the elements.
    Scalzi, Uncle Hoot and Jimmy Altizer huddled under a pine shelter along the banks or the mighty Huron; a dense, frozen rain pelted the primitive roof of their shebang.
    Scalzi lay prone on the frozen ground, wheezing teribly, while Uncle Hoot tended to his fever. Jimmy Altizer, merely a boy at fifteen, stared blankly across the Huron, longing for his mother’s corncakes and gravy.
    Suddenly, Scalzi buckled and hacked and expelled a stringy black mucus that made Hoot gag. Scalzi became instantly calm, and stared serenley at the shebang ceiling. Hoot turned to Jimmy.
    “It’s time, I reckon.”
    Jimmy pulled a rusted Jew’s Harp from his ruck, and began plucking out Amazing Grace. Hoot tapped his foot in perfect time against an ammo box.
    “Go ahead, son. It’s your time. Don’t have no fear, boy. It’s good there.”
    Scalzi’s eyes focused, and a smile spread between his whiskers.
    “Thanks, Hoot. I… I…”
    “Go ahead, son. Go ahead.”
    “I regret…” wheezed Scalzi, “that I have only two lungs to give to Ohio.”
    With that, he expired, and Hoot and Jimmy wept.
    And then, a cat with bacon taped to it entered the shebang, and Hoot and Jimmy set upon it and devoured it, bacon and all. They stripped Scalzi bare, packed up their posessions and his, and set forth for New Orleans, where they opened a successful chain of bordellos called “Crabby’s.”

  12. Hey, some of us Starbucks writers actually have a reason for being there. I spend a lot of time on the road for work, and if it’s a choice between writing in a hotel room with mass-marketed “artwork” on the walls and writing in a Starbucks? I’ll go for the Starbucks every time. They’ve got food, and caffiene, and semi-decent lighting. (Or a Panera, for preference. More seating options, and free WiFi.)

    Some of us don’t write at Starbucks because we want to have hot monkey sex with a barrista — we write at Starbucks because home is a six hour plane flight away. *shrug*

  13. I write in coffeeshops about half the time because when I write at home, I often end up doing dishes or reorganizing closets instead.

    Also, I like the white noise of cafe chatter; it fills up the part of my brain that gets over-critical and editorial.

  14. Cool blog. I will always remember you from a class we had together where I believe (or maybe I just made this up) you were drinking a screwdriver in an umarked plastic bottle made to look like plain OJ. Congratulations on your success and hope it continues.

  15. Lesley Kim Goldblatt:

    ” I will always remember you from a class we had together where I believe (or maybe I just made this up) you were drinking a screwdriver in an umarked plastic bottle made to look like plain OJ.”

    Hey, Lesley!

    That’s a great story, but since I don’t drink (and didn’t then), it may have just been regular OJ. With 14 No-Doz crushed into it.

    I still haven’t come down.

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