Lessons Learned, Also, a Moment of Agogness

To self-pimp just a little bit, today’s Book Tour Diary talks about the things I’ve learned about book touring after one week in. Check it out if you like; here’s a link to the whole collection of the Book Tour Diary entries if you need to catch up.

Also, something I mentioned in the Google video but which I neglected to note here, which is that I’ve been told by Tor that Old Man’s War is getting a second printing in mass market paperback. When you add the number of that print run to all the previous runs of the book, it means that there are now over 100,000 copies of Old Man’s War in print. To which the only sane response is: Holy crap. If I haven’t told you people lately that I love you all, now is an excellent time for me to do so. Thanks, folks. I am appropriately agog and humbled.

11 Comments on “Lessons Learned, Also, a Moment of Agogness”

  1. 100,000 copies? I’m guessing that Tor is going to keep you around.

    Repeat after me: Show me the money!

  2. I am appropriately … humbled.

    Scalzi, humbled? Humbled? Why am I finding this hard to believe? If you were really humbled you’d quit talking about electronic publishing, the internets, and giving away your work for nothing. Everybody knows that stuff doesn’t work and that CC crap is just a passing fad. 100k copies of OMW in circulation is not proof, it’s just a fluke, a fluke.

  3. Aw, shucks. We wuv you too, Scalzi. (the furries made me say it, they have so much time on their hands now) :)

    But I’m with Jim Wright. Damn hard work, and the fruits are begining to show for it. Congrats, John.

  4. Congratulations! My husband and I just finished reading “Old Man’s War” and “Ghost Brigades”. We often read aloud to each other, and these books really lend themselves to that. However, I must say there were points in OMW where we were laughing so hard that I couldn’t see the print for the tears in my eyes and that my husband was begging me to stop reading so that he could breathe again. Suffice it to say, we really enjoyed it. I look forward to re-reading them both.

    We just purchased “The Last Colony”. I am looking forward to spending time with Mr. Perry again.

    Thank you for writing these books. You have provided us with some good laughs and food for thought. And some good inside jokes — now we’re going around talking about our BrainPals(TM). And we’re sure to say the “TM”.

  5. A hundred thousand is a big number for books. There’s not many out there posting those kind numbers. Good for you, John. You certainly deserve it. You’re remarkable, in the sense you’ve kept this contact with your readers and genuinely seem to enjoy having such an open conversation with them. Most people don’t get very much access to the writers they read. Some writers, like JD Salinger disappear completely. I’m betting OMW will continue to sell over the years and assume classic status along with Heinlein and other masters of military Sci Fi.

  6. And who said pimpin’ ain’t easy?

    Seriously, this is spectacular news. Thanks for letting us be a part of your success. If you really want us to enjoy it, how’s about opening a Scalzi Bank and Trust?

  7. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Chang, for rizzle.

    I went to see a friend in Baltimore. I took his girls to Borders for their birthdays. I had some extra cake, so I bought him OMW and a book on billiards.

    Guess which one will bring him fame, fortune and chicks? ANd which books has more balls?

  8. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Chang, for rizzle.

    I went to see a friend in Baltimore. I took his girls to Borders for their birthdays. I had some extra cake, so I bought him OMW and a book on billiards.

    Guess which one will bring him fame, fortune and chicks? ANd which books has more balls?

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