Not Dead, Just Writing

I mention this because I got my first “Hey, you haven’t updated yet, are you dead?” e-mail for the day.

Not dead. I swear. Just, deadlines, yikes.

How are you?

43 Comments on “Not Dead, Just Writing”

  1. I’m not dead either. Half an hour more at work, then I have to prepare a humorous speech for a Toastmasters meeting later tonight. It’ll be about the perils of driving and navigating in France, and it will involve the time I asked for directions to the Holiday Inn near Charles De Gaulle Airport. They didn’t understand where I wanted to go until I adopted a bad French accent and called it the ‘Oliday Een.”

  2. Dunx – Portland, OR – A writer of code and fiction, a player of games and a cyclist who runs. I think that covers everything except the collection of sharp knives.
    duncandunxellis

    The joyous not deadness continues! Hurrah!

    Another hour of video server integration, then I can go home and fret about planning NaNoWriMo this year.

  3. Are… you sure?

    zombies almost never have the introspective capacity required to realize they’re zombies. Maybe you could develop a “How do I know if I’ve become a zombie?” test, and then administer it upon yourself. Granted, there are scientific issues with this approach, using yourself as a test subject being one, and… well… zombies being another. But still. Some scientific rigor is better than none. It’s also better than rigor mortis. So, there’s that.

    Personally, I know I’m not a zombie because when I die, on my deathbed, I will receive total consciousness.

    So, I got that going for me, which is nice.

  4. How are you?
    Heh? Man, you must be strapped for time. How are you. Actually, I would’ve liked ‘Mingle. Discuss’ better, but that’s just me–crusty aging man. Seriously? Don’t apologize. You got work to do. Get on the snake, dude. We all benefit from your work. Keep the joy coming, Mr. Scalzi.

  5. I’m dead. Not literally, mind you, but Monday is always hectic for me.
    I’m afraid I’m unavailable for any zombie armies, however, as I have another hour of studying before I can eat, but luckily it’s my partner’s night to cook. Yay!

    On the sunny side, my younger cousin passed his first black belt test this evening. Not at our school, he’s studying Brazilian jujitsu which we don’t teach, but go him.

  6. 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, now with more Klebin 3000

    Jesus, I’d get worried if I didn’t hear from you for a week. But I’m glad you’re okay and you’re writing. Just write a little faster please as I’m almost done with Redshirts.

  7. Also not dead. And neither is my garden; I have bountiful seedlings. Waiting for a huge pot of chicken soup to be done. Having a pretty good day.

  8. Not dead. Just fighting the temptation to ask you whether the plot hole that bothers me in OMW is really a plot hole or a subtle indication of just how evil the human galactic empire is without saying it outright.

    Also, Redshirts barely passes the Bechdel test and plot-wise it should do better. Won’t complain further lest I spoiler.

  9. See, this is what you get for raising expectations by updating every day. If you were lazier, people would leave you alone.

    On the other hand, if you ever get kidnapped the police will know VERY QUICKLY. “Chief, I have a horde of people trying to file a missing persons report who say they read whatever — I don’t know what that means, but I think some scifi dude has been abducted. Possibly by aliens.”

  10. I just put “whatever blog” in the search box and the first entry was NOT yours.

    What’s happened to the world?

    Other than that, pretty good.

    @Dave Branson – just finished up our humorous contest tonight. Good luck with your speech!

  11. Had a test which involves sticking a camera where the sun don’t shine.

    So, not dead but kinda cranky and sore. The drugs during it are great, though!

  12. Pretty okay. I’m cycling manic, so I thought it was a GREAT idea to walk four miles today, in heels. Whee. It was pretty much fine, but it took me a while to realize that the Packers were in town, for a sporting even against the local Seahawks. Judging by the jerseys that I saw, the home team is out-numbered 4:1. Fascinating.

  13. Something to make you feel a little less zombified, John. Best tweet *ever*, on Wil Wheaton’s Twitter feed:: “Me: I want a Blue Hawaiian. Anne: The drink? Me: No, a Smurf. Like Jokey, but Hawaiian. Anne: He’d be AlohaHa Smurf. “

  14. Out of curiousity … *how* do they expect you to reply if you *are* dead? Seems like a flaw in their plan – it’s easy to confirm a negative (“John Scalzi not dead, says Internet-famous cat posting on his account”) but very hard to confirm a positive (“John Scalzi is dead and Ghlaghghee did it”).

  15. “He’s not dead, he’s pining for the fjords” How did we get to 32 comments before someone made use of this line? You guys are slipping.

  16. I can’t believe someone thought you were dead yesterday. Obviously you had to spend the day preparing the compound for the inevitable Wheaton retalitory invasion.

  17. As I am locked in a box with a strange poison contraption, my state of death is impossible to determine. I am both dead and not dead.

    Oh, huh, this poison might actually just be a cookie. Omnomnom. Still in a box though.

  18. @Cassie: Thanks! It went well. I’ll be representing our club at the area contest on Friday. Now I have to polish the speech a bit (or a lot).

  19. Well, today I’m relieved after seeing the news:

    A near tragedy averted at the International Space Station when presidential candidate Mitt Romney made a surprise visit yesterday. Witnesses say the Republican presidential nominee shouted “Why do engineers hate fresh air!” before head butting the window causing a rapid decompression of the crew capsule. Luckily, the suction pulled Romney’s head through the porthole, up to his shoulders, sealing the leak long enough for the rest of the crew to evacuate to an adjacent capsule behind an airlock.

    Crewmembers then donned space suits to retrieve Mr. Romney and seal the hole. Technicians on board the space station said Mr. Romney was fine after performing a softboot on his systems, recalibrating a couple of his sensors, and applying a new coat of fiberglass to his hairpiece.

  20. Really, after all the bacon turmoil yesterday someone was concerned you have not posted? Seriously, some of the fans here are pathetic.

  21. The great thing about you being not-dead is during the “predicted” zombie apocalypse, you won’t be at the door asking to “borrow a cup of brains.”
    Cat/bacon video made up for your lack of quantity through quality.

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