Home From ConFusion

And I hardly hit anyone on the drive home!

More detail about convention later.

22 Comments on “Home From ConFusion”

  1. 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, thank you very much

    Ditto that, Kate. Yikes.

    Although it might have made an interesting picture!

    Glad you’re back. I was getting bored with productivity.

  2. “…hardly anyone…”

    Yeh, but according to the rules of Street Pinball, if your only hit is a nun in a wheelchair being pushed by a blind Boy Scout, it’s worth 10,000 points!

  3. Reminds me of a line cut from my novel: …he’d been in the cave many times, without once getting killed.”

    I hope the person you hardly hit has never once been killed.

  4. First drunk says to second drunk “I think we’re gettin’ closer to town.”

    Second drunk says “Why do you think that?”

    First drunk “Because we’re hittn’ more people.”

  5. Once again, I have shown amazing talent at being at a convention (for the FULL weekend, mind you) at which John Scalzi is a guest and never actually speaking to him. This would be number 5, I believe. It just somehow doesn’t work out. I have no idea how I manage it. It’s a talent, I guess. *bow* I did manage to get good pictures, and even video of the Toastmaster. Yes, John, I will send them to you as soon as I figure out how to move data from camera to PC. :)

  6. Ha! At least got to say hello. From one person with a ‘z’ in his last name to another:

    ‘v’ just doesn’t cut it.

  7. Salome,

    you do realize that after only THREE times, it becomes a fannish tradition?

    You are now obligated by Ghu to insure that whenever you are at a convention where Scalzi is present, you must do everything in your power to NOT meet him…

    Fortunately, the same does not apply to John Scalvi

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