John Scalzi (Not Me) Reads John Scalzi (Me)
Look, it’s John Scalzi! Or, a John Scalzi, one that’s not my dad, or a weatherman down in Florida, or a (by now I assume retired) boxer, or the now-deceased masonry scientist, or me. This one lives in New England, and I have been aware of his existence for some time now, since back when I had an account on Prodigy and sent him a message saying “Hey! I’m a John Scalzi, too!” And here he is reading Redshirts whilst on vacation. Surely, a near-recursive treat for everyone!
I do sometimes wonder how it is for the other John Scalzis that I am out there in the world, writing books and hogging the first several Google search pages of our mutual name. I know it doesn’t bother my dad, and this John Scalzi seems to be perfectly fine with it, but I imagine some other JS doing a search on his name and going who the hell is this schmuck? Sorry, man. I’m fine-tuned for the Internet. And despite my cluttering up the ‘nets with my ego spoor, I’m not the John Scalzi who has a top award in his field named after him. Guess that shows me.
In any event, I’m glad this particular John Scalzi seems to be enjoying my work. If he read it and thought, this book stinks! And it has my name on it!, well. That would be bad. Not the case this time around, fortunately.