That’s how I felt last night when I realized that my house had been burglarized. While Suzy and I were down in SC celebrating Father’s Day with my family, a couple of young black men broke into my house, stole my Macbook Air, my Canon Rebel T3i digital camera and a Wii game console. My neighbors saw them and chased them on foot, but the thieves got away.
On the bright side, I had an older laptop that I was able to quickly get up and running. I didn’t lose any of my writing, thanks to a combination of DropBox and Time Machine backups. My Macbook was password-protected and is now remote-wiped thanks to the iCloud apps. No one was hurt, and our pets were safe. And I learned that I really do live in a good neighborhood, where three young brothers were willing to put their own safety on the line to try and protect my possessions. That last bit means a lot.
On the darker side, I’m fucking pissed. Some little sonofabitch broke into my home. He came into my office and stole my computer. The computer I write on. The way I make my living. My home. I feel violated, I feel scared, and more than anything I feel angry. Last night I re-loaded the shotgun and put it back in its rightful place beside my bed. The warning shot is what you get when you hear the shell racked into the chamber. It’s bird shot, so I’m at least giving you a chance to live through the next round.
Suzy and I have lived through this before, each in different ways. I’ve had two vehicle break-ins within the past three years, both in Atlanta. The first time, ironically, my MacBook and digital SLR camera were stolen. The second time not only did the thieves get nothing of value, but they were caught just hours later and my stuff was returned. Suzy was held up at gunpoint while working in a theatre, and had her purse and car keys stolen. That was decidedly more traumatic and scary.
But this just pisses me off. I know it’s all just stuff, material possessions, and I really am very happy that neither my neighbors nor my pets were hurt. But it was my stuff. I worked hard to be able to afford those things, and now some assclown that doesn’t want to go out and get a damn job has my stuff. And I’m pissed.
And now I can see a little better how things like the Trayvon Martin shooting happen. I don’t want to say that my situation is analogous to George Zimmerman, because only two people know what happened that night in Florida, and one of them is dead. But I know that my immediate experience has trumped my liberal leanings right now, and I could see me overreacting to some perceived threat right now. My personal security has been rattled, and I don’t have much of a flight instinct, it’s all fight. So please send a message to the Seventh-Day Adventists and the Mormons that this is a bad week to knock on the door of Casa de Hartness, because the nicest thing I’m holding down behind the door when I answer it is a baseball bat.
I really do appreciate all the well-wishes on Facebook and Twitter. It’s nice that folks were concerned. If you want to help, buy a book. I’m not sure yet whether it’s going to be worth filing a homeowner’s insurance claim or not. It may affect my premium more than the stuff was worth, so I have to weigh that in making my decision. If you really want to help, click the Paypal button below.
And thanks for reading my rant. I’m not going to shoot anybody. Much. But a .22 slug to the kneecap is looking like a better and better answer. After all, if I shoot a bitch in the knee, he’s not going to be playing second-story man anymore.
Check out the widget for the winners! Entering enough times to flood the system certainly worked for JK, who picked up one of EVERY PRIZE! Thanks to everyone who entered, I appreciate your help in spreading the word about my work. I’ll be doing another giveaway in the next few months, so stay tuned for that! All the books will go out by mid-next week, because I leave for Vegas at the end of the week, and want to get all that off my plate before I fly.
I’m still adjusting to life without a day job. I still sit in front of a computer for most of the day, and it still starts at about the same time, but I will admit that there are days that I don’t put on pants until well after noon. This being one of those days. It’s a perk, I’ll admit it. I broke down and bought a new MacBook Air, which I love. It’s crazy fast, and all my stuff transferred over almost seamlessly using Migration Assistant. The only thing it looks like I lost was the saved games in Zuma’s Revenge, so I guess I’ll just have to make my little frog burp up a lot more balls and reclaim my accolades.
Still working on the weight thing – I’m cutting back on portions and cutting back on sodas, so I think I’ve lost a few pounds. Nothing spectacular, but it’s a slow process. I figure in this time of life change if I can lose a couple pounds a month that’ll be a miracle, especially as much as I’m traveling over the next few weeks.
To that end, here’s a list of where I’ll be the next few months if you want to say hello. If you live in any of these areas and want a hard copy of a book, let me know and I’ll pack some, even if I’m not coming to a book show. And I’m always happy to meet folks in a bar or casino to chat about writing, the characters, whatever. If you’re interested in meeting me and hanging out, please don’t be shy. I love to talk about writing, literature, all of it.
April 13-17 – Las Vegas, Nevada – National Association of Broadcasters. I’m staying at the Excalibur and plan to play the Venetian Deep Stacks on Saturday and Sunday. Then I’ll be pitching my new marketing firm at NAB during the week. I’m totally available for drinks in the evening.
April 20-22 – Batesville, Arkansas – Pulp Ark 2012. I’m driving for two days to get to this convention featuring the best new pulp writers and fans in the nation! Come on out if you’re in the Mid-South area. I’ll be stopping in Nashville on the way, so if you wanna get a beer there, let me know.
April 27-29 – Wilkesboro, NC – Merlefest. The only exception to the “I’ll bring books anywhere” rule. I’ll be on a mountain listening to boogie. You’re welcome to listen with me. And chat. But there’s no booze at the festival, and I’ll conduct no business there. It’s a family vacation, and a semi-holy spot for me. You’re all invited, it’s a great time. But no business that weekend :).
May I’ll be buried in a couple of theatres. I’m designing 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee for Theatre Charlotte, then I go straight into the theatre for the Blumey Awards, a new awards show the big performing arts center in town is hosting to celebrate regional high school theatres. That’s got me booked most of the first three weeks of May.
June is back on the con circuit, kicking off with ConCarolinas here in Charlotte June 1-3. I’ll be hanging out with my Magical Words friends and plenty of other cool folk, so come on by! It’s an excellent mid-sized con for writers.
June 22-24 I’ll be at the Charlotte Convention Center for HeroesCon 2012, one of the largest comic book conventions in the US each year. I’ll be sharing a table with Stuart Jaffe and Tamsin Silver, so come say hi! I’m counting on them to wrestle me to the ground and keep me away from the other vendors so I might actually make a profit this year instead of spending all my money on comics.
Then at the end of June I’m heading to Louisville for what is shaping up to be one of the best cons of the year – Fandom Fest. Stephen Zimmer is putting together some of the best panels I’ve ever seen at a con, and the guest list is super-badass! With guests of honor like Richard Kadreay (Sandman Slim), Ernest Cline (Ready Player One), Robin Hobb (too many to list), Jim Hines, Julie Kagawa and others, not to mention media guests like Bruce Campbell, James Marsters and Sean Astin, this is going to be an awesome show.
That gets me to the July 4th weekend, when I plan to collapse for a few days. I’m currently only scheduled for one con in July and then DragonCon, so I might be looking for a beach house to hole up in and write for the month of August. Hope to see you around one of these events!
Well, for a week or two the jury was kinda out. But here’s a brief recap of what’s been going on since I’ve been out gallivanting around and doing a piss-poor job of telling anyone where I am or if I’m alive.
I went to the Southeastern Theatre Conference in Chattanooga for the 19th consecutive year. It was pretty apropos that I essentially ended my career with Barbizon at this conference, since it was at this conference in Norfolk, Virginia in 1995 where I first heard of Barbizon and met anyone from there. A year later in Louisville, KY I was working in the Barbizon booth!
Some of my best friends in the world were there, and my buddy T-Bone bought what amounted to a bottle of Patron to do a round of shots on Friday night. If you ever stay in Chattanooga for anything, I highly recommend the Chattanoogan. The rooms are lovely, and Alan the cocktail server was amazing. Which reminds me, I need to send him a book for taking such good care of us all weekend. We ended up with twenty people outside by the fire pit on Friday night because it was a lovely night and the band sucked. That marked another first for me – we helped get the house band fired because they were absolutely dreadful. The above pic if just a few folks that were part of the toast, but I wanted to commemorate them here. Thanks to Jeremy K for the pic.
Then I came home and turned up with bronchitis. This happens to me once a year or so ever since I caught pneumonia a few years back. My lungs are a little sensitive, and if I try to go too long without reasonable rest (like doing StellarCon then working a week and doing SETC right behind it), I get sick. This was a doozy, too. I ended up flat on my back for a solid week, and barely recovered for the following week. I was sick enough that it was Wednesday of MidSouth Con before I was 100% sure I was going to Memphis. I watched a lot of Supernatural, broke down and went to the doctor, got some antibiotics that kinda worked, got some hydrocodone-laced cough syrup that certainly made me feel better, then went to see John Hiatt and Lyle Lovett in concert.
Or at least most of John Hiatt and Lyle Lovett in concert. I’d paid a lot of money for those tickets, and there was no way I was staying home, but I only lasted about 2/3 of the show before it got too warm in the theatre and my cough came back with a vengeance. But they were still amazing, and I highly recommend their acoustic set to anyone, especially if you can see them in a converted church that still has the antique Tiffany stained glass windows. But I might be a little spoiled seeing as many shows at Spirit Square as I have. For those of you that have read Back in Black, yes, Spirit Square is a real place, and it’s one of my favorite concert venues ever. If you’re in Charlotte for anything, I highly recommend seeing a show there.
Then I went back to bed for most of a week. Then I tried to get moving again, because I still had a couple days’ worth of my notice to work out, an office to clean, and another con to attend. But more on that later. Now I’m up, I’m healthy (ish) and it’s time to get some writing done!
Okay, you were warned. If you follow me on Facebook, this is your official warning that from now until May 8th, there will be a bunch of posts decrying Amendment One, the ballot measure that NC will be voting on to outlaw gay marriage. I’m staunchly against this, as I am in favor of equal rights for all people, and taking away someone’s right to stand in front of a justice of the peace, put their fifty bucks on the counter and say “Til Death Do Us Part” seems wrong to me. I would like to think that my stance on gay rights doesn’t influence my writing too much, but I’m sure it’s pretty apparent to the readers of Back in Black that I’m all in favor of gay marriage. Or as we like to call it amongst my friends – marriage.
I’m not going to debate all the pros and cons of the issue here, but suffice to say if you see me at a con and I’m wearing a shirt that says something about equality, and I have several, that’s what is being referenced. I was loathe to use my modest notoriety as a bully pulpit until I realized that the opponents of civil liberty in our country don’t share my reticence. So I’m speaking out, in no uncertain terms, about my opposition to any constitutional amendment, or law in general, that reduces freedoms. And this is the first one that hits home for me, because it impacts so many of my friends.
I’m a straight white southern guy, happily married for over sixteen years. So why is this important to me? Because I think that all of my friends should be able to declare their love for each other openly without fear of reprisals from society, government or anyone else, as long as both parties are of legal age. Because I think it’s stupid that one couple that’s been together for ten years can have visitation rights in the ICU, and another one can’t. Because I think that it’s stupid that if Suzy and I adopted a kid, and something happened to either one of us, the kid stays with the other one, but a committed lesbian couple can be together for decades and have their children taken away from one mother if the other one dies. And this isn’t a random possibility – these are things that happen. And it seems unfair to me. So I’m speaking out. I’d like to think that my readers will mostly agree with my positions on this issue, but if not, that’s okay. I have friends and relatives that I disagree with too. But I just wanted to warn you that I think this amendment is bullshit, and you’re probably going to hear a lot from me about it for the next few months.
I’ve spent more than half my life working in theatre. I did my first show as an actor at 16, which would be 22 years ago now. I auditioned for that show because I thought the teacher directing the play was hot, and there were cute girls in it. I got the male lead in Up the Down Staircase, and a career somehow sprang from that. I was one of the two or three best actors in my high school, so I figured when I went to college I’d have no problem getting cast in a show.
Except that everyone there was the best actor in his or her high school, and a lot of them had way better high school programs than I had. Some of them had more than one drama class in high school. And some of them did more than one show each year. Some schools even had a teacher for nothing but drama! To say I was behind the curve would be putting it mildly. But I auditioned, and I took classes, and I worked, and I didn’t get cast.
Then I ran into my buddy Clark, and he changed my life with a simple question – “Do you want to run spotlight for this show for me?” Clark was the Technical Director at Winthrop when I started there, and I had come from another audition where I didn’t get cast. Clark and I knew each other from working together on weekends at the museum in Rock Hill, SC. I helped out with the front desk and gift shop, and Clark worked in the planetarium. So when he saw me wandering around the theatre building, he offered me a gig running spotlight for the show.
And that’s where it all started for me. I had fun running the spot, and I felt like I was part of something for a change. At the time I was an English major, which is a fairly solitary endeavor, so the feeling of working together with a bunch of people to get something done was really welcome. The theatre folks welcomed me with open arms, probably because they were (and still are) as weird, awkward and dysfunctional as I was (am). So by the end of that year I had double-majored, gotten some small roles in shows, but more importantly I had discovered a whole new world. A world that over the next twenty years would feed my family, buy my house, my cars, send me all over the country, and eventually turn me into a professional writer.
That year I joined a brotherhood that I’ve strayed away from for while, but always find myself drawn back into it. We’re the ones in black, with tools hanging from out belts, probably with tattoos and piercings, and we might look more like a motorcycle gang than highly skilled professionals in an extremely technical field, but we’re the people you want on your side when it absolutely, positively has to get done right away. We’re rude, crude and obscene. We drink too much, eat too much greasy food, frequently have unreliable relationships with barbers and razors, but we can make sure that the show happens right, and happens on time, and then gets the hell out of our building so we can go drink. We’re technicians.
We’re not “techies.” A “techie” is a high school kid running props for extra credit. A “techie” is an actor who might be able to run the light board if everything is programmed for them. A “techie” is someone who you’ll let help push road cases but you’d never trust them to stack motor boxes in the back of a semi with you. I haven’t been a “techie”for a couple decades now, and I’m pretty damn quick to correct anyone who tosses that term around.
We’re techs, stagehands, crew, technicians, squints, squeals, riggers, truss monkeys, wood butchers, sparkies, board ops, spot ops, deckhands, truck trolls and a thousand other names that we’ve given ourselves. But you might not get to use those. Nicknames are like kid brothers – I can beat the shit out of mine, but you’d better not even look at him funny.
We’re brothers and sisters in black, a family forged in the backs of tractor-trailer trucks and in the high steel. We’re the people who make your entertainment happen, and without us, your favorite performer naked on a bare stage in the dark and no one can hear them whine about it. No matter how long I’m out of the business, or just tangentially attached to it, I can walk into a theatre with a black shirt, gloves and a crescent wrench and step right back into that world. I’m not nearly as nimble as I once was scurrying up a rope ladder to focus a front of house rig, but I’m still able to get into the back of a truck and sling a lot of steel.
I was reminded this week of what it means to be part of that brotherhood, because we lost another on of our own here in Charlotte. Ironically,I met Chris Burchett when neither one of us were doing much stagehand work. I was selling him lighting gear as he was the tech director for a local private school. We weren’t friends, really, but buddies. Acquaintances. The guys who shake hands and catch up briefly when you work a gig together every three or four years. But in the sense that he was one of us – the crew, he was my brother. And I’ll miss him. Being a theatre technician in a small community like Charlotte is very much a John Donne kinda thing – each man’s death diminishes me. I’m diminished by Chris’ passing, as is our whole brotherhood. And even though the audiences will never know it, backstage there is a void.
There’s a lot going around about the SOPA/PIPA legislation and why we should black out our websites and why it’s a bad idea. There are a lot of people who have said it better than me. Here’s one of them.
Please, write your congressman/woman/person/puppet and tell them why they should be unemployed if they support this bill. Because a lot of us who create content certainly will be.
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