The Mallet of Loving Correction Part 1

The Mallet of Loving Correction.

Selected Writings from Whatever.

20082012.

John Scalzi.

Dedication.

This book is dedicated to Kate Baker, friend and occasional wielder of the Mallet. Thank you for being both.

This book is also dedicated to those who comment on Whatever. May you never be malleted, but if you are, may you take your correction in the loving manner with which it is offered.

Author's Introduction.

Oh, look, here we are again.

First, explanations and context, for the one or two of you who need it. This book is a collection of entries from my blog, Whatever, covering the timeframe from June 2008 through November 2012 (it would have gone through to December 2012, but I slacked off that month and didn't write anything on the blog that month I thought worthy of inclusion). This timeframe covers two presidential elections, several generations of electronics, the rise of Twitter and Facebook, multiple waves of Internet craziness, the advance of same-s.e.x marriage as a civil right, and, personally speaking, the publication of several books, the winning of a few awards for writing (including a Hugo for this book's predecessor, Your Hate Mail Will Be Graded) and my tenure as the president of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. It's been a busy few years all around.

All the entries here were originally published on my blog, which-I am very happy to say-has a large and vibrantly argumentative collection of commenters. All of these entries had comments attached to them once they were published; some had hundreds of comments as the regular visitors argued back and forth with each other. This was particularly the case with the political posts, as you might imagine, but any topic is fair game for an argument. One of the things I am happy about is that, unlike all too many sites, the comments on my site are usually worth reading. This is an artifact of Whatever building a retinue of smart, engaged readers over the decade and a half it's been around. I'm delighted they show up; I'm equally delighted that they stick around.

It's also an artifact of me having a comment moderation policy, in which I keep the conversation on topic, warn people when they are being rude to other commenters or employing cheap rhetorical tricks, and expunge the comments that are obnoxious, lazy or trollish. At some point during the last several years, I began calling the latter "malleting," and created a metaphorical instrument for the purpose: The Mallet of Loving Correction. It is this mallet from which this collection takes its t.i.tle.

(And yes, now I have in my possession a physical Mallet of Loving Correction, given to me as a gift. It is very large and has on its head a quote from me, which reads "I don't love you any less for being so WRONG on the Internet." Yeah, that about sums it up.) This book is scheduled for release on September 13, 2013-the fifteenth anniversary of the debut of Whatever. It's strange for me to think that I have been writing Whatever for as long as I have. Even now, more than a decade into the 21st Century, blogs don't have a sterling reputation for being serious writing (a fact I suspect is at least partially related to the word "blog" itself, which sounds more like a fungal infection than a repository for prose), and I imagine there might still be people who wonder why I bother writing it, especially when I could be writing other things, like more novels and books, or other sorts of pay copy.

One answer is, well, I do those things anyway-writing the blog doesn't hurt that. A second answer is that writing on Whatever lets me write what I want, when I want, how I want, which is the sort of freedom of expression that I value as a person. A third answer is that the blog reaches tens of thousands of people a day, hundreds of thousands a month and millions in the course of a year. That's an audience any writer would love to have, and I have it. I think I'll keep it for a while longer, thanks.

There's one more reason. In a very real sense, Whatever is my life's work; it's fifteen years (so far) of me thinking about what's going on in my life and in my world. I have no illusions that when I roll off from this rock future generations will note or care about my existence, save possibly for a few academics scrounging for a thesis subject or some descendants curious about that writer in their family timeline. But it matters to me to note my time and my place in it. In this regard Whatever has an audience of one. This is me, remembering in real time.

I hope you enjoy this particular set of memories.

John Scalzi.

December 27, 2012.

A Note on the Organization of This Book.

The Mallet of Loving Correction covers four and a half years of writing but is not arranged chronologically, because one, that's boring, and two, there are times where I would write on one general subject for a few weeks, and having one piece after another on the same subject is also boring.

So, instead, this book is arranged (mostly) alphabetically, by t.i.tle of entry. I say mostly because there are a few entries that I've moved out of alphabetical sequence because I wanted to. I trust this will not make your OCD explode.

Although the book is not arranged chronologically, every entry does have its publication date prominently noted, so-for example-you'll be able to tell whether I'm talking about the 2008 US presidential election, or the 2012 US presidential election.

Some entries are slightly edited from the version that appeared on Whatever to reflect the fact that they're being presented in a book, not on a Web site. So hyperlinks have been removed and some text changed to give the context that the hyperlinks used to provide. Aside from that and copyediting, however, the content of the entries is unchanged, so you will see me being wildly incorrect on several matters of speculation and opinion, and possibly also on a few matters of actual fact. That's writing in the moment for you. Wheee!

-JS.

10 Things to Remember About Authors.

Feb.

26.

2009.

Because it appears someone needs to say these things out loud, some thoughts, for the consideration of readers, about authors, particularly novelists. Warning: This is long.

1. Authors aren't machines: Which is to say, we do not reliably and through a purely mechanical process extrude Novel-Length Textual Product with Extra Added Plot and Character Flavors on a predictable schedule. Like all things that live, we do our thing imprecisely. Sometimes the novels come out regularly and uniformly; sometimes they don't. Sometimes the novels conform to our own expectations of what they should be; sometimes they come out malformed and need to be fixed before they can be sent out into the world. Sometimes they just don't work at all and have to be tossed. Sometimes production is easy, sometimes it's not.

Certainly many authors strive for predictable process, which is why so many of them block out a regular amount of time every day, and try to bang out a regular number of words a day. But working at a regular pace and time and with a regular amount of output does not mean that any individual novel will thereby come out on a predictable schedule. Some of those 500 or 1,000 daily words will be unusable; some of those will be spent rewriting other words; some of those words will be so great that it takes the novel in a new direction that the author has to follow to see where it leads, to the exclusion of finis.h.i.+ng the novel on a schedule. Predictable process in this case does not necessarily lead to predictable output.

Corollary to the above: 2. Authors are human: Our brains, the organ we use to create our novels, are touchy and imprecise things. They get bored. They get confused. They lose track of plot and narrative threads. They think too much about some things, and not nearly enough about others. They are sometimes ambitious beyond their actual grasp. They are likewise sometimes tremendously poor estimators of their own capacity. Our brains, in short, are a hindrance as much as a help to us-as they are for all humans.

And like all humans, we authors are a vain and rationalizing group, wanting to look good to others and rationalizing when we do not perform to our own expectations or the expectations of others-and often doing a better job of rationalizing our failures than others, because, after all, we're pretty good with that fiction thing, and what is rationalization but self-serving fiction? Like all humans we screw up and succeed in nearly equal measure, and hope merely that the screw-ups are smaller overall than the successes. As a cla.s.s of human, we are not notably different than any other cla.s.s of human, in terms of performance and behavior. Wish we were better (and more attractive!), but we're not.

Because of the above, the next point naturally follows: 3. Authors have lives: Writing is not all we do. Many of us conned other people into becoming spouses or otherwise being significant others and are thus obliged to spend time interacting with them in a manner that hopefully fosters their inclination to continue said intimate relations.h.i.+p. Some of us, as a consequence of above, might have sp.a.w.ned and are thus obliged to contribute in ways material, intellectual and spiritual, to the development of such offspring. Some of us have even managed to create and maintain familiar a.s.sociation with others in a phenomenon known as "friends.h.i.+p"-which also requires tending.

Beyond these things, we authors also have some required and desired physical and mental activities. We need to eat, sleep, p.o.o.p, (somewhat more rarely) exercise and (even more rarely, alas) get laid. We may also choose to pursue activities that have no immediate profitable purpose but which refresh our brains through amus.e.m.e.nt: Watching TV, playing sports, arguing with people about absolutely pointless things online, collecting stamps, traveling, attending conventions or conferences, staring at pictures of other nekkid people, and so on and so forth. Likewise, there are some things we would prefer not to do but have to anyway, like take out the trash, do the laundry, pay the bills, call up publishers/editors and ask where our d.a.m.n money is, be civil to people we don't like but have some reason not to say "kindly p.i.s.s off, would you?" to, attend meetings or therapy, and so on. While none of these things is directly related to writing, it's likely without doing them, our interest and/or capacity for writing might be in some way compromised.

And beyond these things are the "Life is a drunk driver and you're the poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d pedestrian what just stepped into the crosswalk" items: Someone we love dies. Our day job disappears from under us. We get a divorce. We or someone we know develops a dependency. We get sick (and, if you're a writer in the US, as a freelance person, likely have no health insurance). Not only does this kick us in the a.s.s because we're human, it kicks us in the a.s.s because it's hard to be creative/funny/interesting/engaged in writing when your world is falling apart around you. This isn't asking for an extra dollop of sympathy. It's pointing out that being creative often works best in congenial surroundings.

Following all that: 4. Authors frequently won't tell you about the details of their lives: Which is to say sometimes when you're wondering why that favorite author of yours is late with a book you're expecting, you won't get an explanation that, say, someone close to her is suffering from severe depression and she's spending her time tending to them, or, say, that he's decided that what he's written is c.r.a.p and he can't in good conscience inflict it on his readers, or, say, that he's spent the last nine months playing World of Warcraft and has now totally leveled out all his characters, which is good, but didn't do any writing, which is, well, bad. And why won't you get an explanation? Simple: Because it's none of your d.a.m.n business.

No, really, it's not. Perhaps you think it is, but you're wrong about that. Just as the particulars of your own life need not be discussed with anyone else not actively involved in it, so too are the particulars of an author's life beyond your purview, unless the author chooses to share them with you (meaning, most likely, sharing with the public in a general sense). And even then you probably shouldn't expect a full accounting of details, because authors, even the ones with blogs and active public presences, quite naturally decide where their public sphere ends and their private sphere begins.

And no, being a fan of an author's books or series doesn't count as being actively involved in that author's life. You are actively involved with his or her books; that's not even close to the same thing. Following the author's blog/Twitter/Facebook page and even commenting there doesn't get you into their lives either. As personable as an author can be, live, online or in his or her writing, personable is not the same as personal. Authors are under no obligation to keep you informed about things in their lives. It's nice if they do, but it's not required. Frankly, it shouldn't necessarily be expected.

Intimately tied into this: Authors frequently won't tell you the details of their business lives, either, for much the same reasons.

This is related to the following: 5. Authors do many things for many reasons: Let's say your favorite author, rather than working on a novel you want him to release, instead decides to edit an anthology. You ask: What is this idjit thinking? I and many other fans are waiting for that novel! He could make so much more money by putting that novel out! What on earth could possibly motivate such a bonehead maneuver?

Off the top of my head, here are some reasons: a) The author was contractually obliged to edit the anthology before he signed for the novel you're waiting for.

b) The author has painted himself into a corner with the novel and needs time to think it through, and while doing that wants to keep himself busy and getting paid.

c) The author is bored writing the novel and needs to do something else, otherwise the completed novel will suck.

d) The author is using his name and influence to help out some fellow writers by editing an anthology, which will allow him to help their careers and throw some money their way.

e) The author is curious about this whole editing thing and wants to see what it's like.

Or: some combination of two or more of the above reasons, or perhaps none of those reasons at all. Point is, what the author does and why he or she does it might not make sense to you, but makes perfect sense to the author. Why the disparity in opinion? Because you're not the author, and per point 4, you're likely not get a full explanation of his or her reasoning.

6. One author another author: Now, perhaps one of your favorite authors jams out a readable novel every six months (or every nine months, or every year, whatever). If she can do that, why can't this other author whose books you love do the same thing? Simple: Because they're two entirely different people. They don't have the same writing habits, the same writing process, the same life circ.u.mstances, the same business circ.u.mstances or even, likely, the same career goals and aspirations. They produce similar consumer objects (i.e., novels), but everything else is likely quite different.

Now, one thing to keep in mind here is that the publis.h.i.+ng world, in general, tries to select for the writers who can produce good, competent prose on a more-or-less predictable schedule, because people follow authors and want more from their favorites, and publis.h.i.+ng wants that pipeline filled. One side effect of this, naturally, is that bookstores are filled with authors who produce good, competent prose on a more-or-less predictable schedule. It does not mean, however, that every author does work this way, or can work this way, or should work this way if the quality of their work suffers because of it. The business practices and tendencies of the publis.h.i.+ng industry, and the type of writer those practices and tendencies favor, shouldn't be used by fans as an argument against the writer whose own schedule does not conform to them. Because, among other things: 7. One novel another novel: Even the novelists skilled at churning out prose fast enough to make their publishers happy have wide variances in the time it takes to finish one book and another. One novel might take five weeks to finish, another could take five months, or five years-or it might never get finished. Past performance is not a guarantee of future results.

Why the variance? Because some novels are harder than others, and because one's life is never the same one novel-writing time to the next. A novel that might take an author three months to finish when nothing is distracting her might take her two years if she's getting a divorce and trying to get her life back together. A novel that she blocked out six months to write might take two months if it suddenly all comes together in her head, and she races to get it on the page before she forgets how all the puzzle pieces fit together. The kicker is as a reader you might not be able to tell a five-week novel from a five-year novel; process doesn't work that way.

This variance takes place not only from novel to novel but sometimes also within a series; very frequently the first few books of a series are kicked out in rapid order while the final books take longer. This is sometimes an artifact of the series' world becoming more complex and the author having to keep track of more things; sometimes it might be an artifact of the author deciding not to rush; sometimes it's an artifact of the author getting hit by a car. Beyond this there's another salient fact: 8. Authors and their circ.u.mstances change over time: It may be the author who earlier in her career could bat out three novels in a year finds she's only capable of one a year now, or vice-versa. It could be an author plans to write a whole lot of books now in order to build the sort of name that allows her to write at a more leisurely pace in the future. It could be that an author who has built her name writing in one genre gets bored with that genre and wants to write something else entirely. It could be an author decides that being an author is too much d.a.m.n work for not nearly enough money and decides to do something else with her life. It could be that an author becomes so famous that she decides she no longer needs to be edited, even when she does. It could be whatever creative spark that animated an author to literary heights abandons her and everything else she does from that point is merely competent at best. It could be an author just stops caring-or decides to care about something so intently it colors everything she writes.

Authors change because they are people, and people change, even the ones who hardly seem to change at all (if nothing else, they get older). Most of this change from the reader point of view happens offstage, because your primary experience with the author is their books, but you'll notice the change nonetheless. Expecting authors to stay constant, in terms of output, quality or novelty, is not necessarily the most realistic thing a reader can do, unless they genuinely feel they are exactly as they were five, ten, twenty or thirty years ago. In which case they might want to get a second opinion from someone a little less subjective.

When we talk of an author's circ.u.mstances changing over time, incidentally, here is something else to remember: 9. Authors' careers (and choices therein) are not always entirely under their control: An author can write a fantastic book no one ever reads because the publisher goes under before the book is published, or decides to promote another book more avidly, or because the book comes out the same day as a blockbuster hits and it gets swamped. An author can write two books in what becomes your favorite series only to be told by the publisher that they're not selling, so the series is canceled. An author can write good books that sell well and still get dropped because the multinational his publisher is part of is tr.i.m.m.i.n.g costs and his next book didn't get its contract written up in time. Conversely, an author could write something he believes is a silly, pointless trifle, have it become unspeakably huge, and find himself with the really interesting position of being able to become really rich and famous...if he just keeps batting out more novels about something he doesn't actually care about all that much, which will consume the biggest portion of his creative life.

Lots of stuff that happens in the careers of authors happens to them, with the author then maneuvering either to take advantage of it or to get out of its path of destruction. And while I pointed out events specific to an author above, sometimes it's industry-wide events that happen, like a ma.s.sive change in how books get distributed, or one of the big bookselling chains going under, or it's global events, like recessions, wars or just some really big, stupid fad. Authors are subject to the same chain-yanks and unexpected events as everyone else; the difference is that these will have an effect on the books you were hoping to read. Sometimes there's not much we can do about it. Sorry.

What does this lead up to? Simply this: 10. Keep all of the above in mind the next time you go snarking off on your favorite author for not jumping through your hoops. I'm not saying don't snark; that would be like telling the tide not to come in, and besides, I'm the last person to tell people not to snark. I am saying to be aware that behind the books you read is a single person who is trying to bring you something worth reading, while also dealing with all the same basic c.r.a.p you have to deal with, plus some extra c.r.a.p that is specific to his or her chosen field.

Unlike in a lot of creative fields, we don't get to farm out some or all of the creative work to someone else; we've got to deal with it ourselves. It's a fair amount of work, particularly if you're one of those authors who wants his or her readers to feel like they've gotten value for their money. Yes, some writers are lazy; yes, some are inveterate fiddlers who don't know when something is done; yes, some writers are just basically screwed up, or hostile, or stoned or whatever. Most of them are trying to do a good job for you and get you something you'll be glad to have read.

So, a small request. Before you lump an author who is not performing to your immediate expectations into the "slacktastic a.s.stard" category, won't you at least consider some of the above points? Just consider them, is all I'm asking. I don't think it's too much to ask, especially regarding someone you're hoping will give you something good, and who, most likely, is hoping to do the same thing.

15 Years.

Jun.

17.

2010.

Yesterday was the 17th anniversary of the first date between Krissy and myself, the day before that the 16th anniversary of my marriage proposal, and today, as it happens, is the 15th anniversary of our wedding. Yes, that's right, we have a three-day anniversary festival every year. It makes anniversaries easier to remember, if nothing else.

If you've been reading along for the last couple of days, you've probably gotten the (correct) intimation that even after fifteen (or sixteen, or seventeen) years, I am still insensibly in love with my wife and just about unbearably happy to be married to her every day. This is, of course, entirely true. What this elides, however-what this sort of lightly skips over-is that this happiness does not just exist; it has to be created and built and maintained. Six years ago, when I was giving marriage advice to others, I wrote: "Marriage is work. It never stops being work. It never should." This is something I still think is true. Human relations.h.i.+ps are highly entropic; you have to keep putting energy into them or they fall apart. Marriages are especially entropic because they operate at such a high level of commitment, and yet ironically I think lots of people a.s.sume that once achieved, a marriage takes care of itself.

It doesn't. But marriage isn't an object or a thing or a pet with opposable thumbs and the ability to open Tupperware to feed itself while you're out doing something else. It's a system, a process, a relations.h.i.+p. It's not solid state; it's got lots of moving parts. You have to tend to it or it jams up and stops functioning. So: Marriage is work. It never stops being work. It never should.

Work is not a bad thing, mind you. Work can be joyful and pleasurable and a thing which illuminates and gives meaning to every corner of your life. Work can be a very good thing. What makes it work is simply that has to be done.

I'm not going to give you a list of "work tips" because I think a) that'd be a little smug of me and b) different marriages are made up of different people and what works for us isn't necessarily going to work for them. But there is one thing Krissy and I do which I think does have universal application, so allow me to recommend it to you. And it is: Krissy and I say "I love you" to each other. A lot. As in, it's typically the first thing we say to each other in the morning, and the last thing we say to each other in the evening, and the thing that gets worked into the conversation during the rest of the day. We say it because we mean it, and we often also say it because we mean something else by it. Depending on context, "I love you" means "I love you," or "I need your help with this thing I'm doing" or "I can't believe this is the fourth time I've asked you to take out the trash" or "thank you" or "I miss you" or "I am saying these words to remind myself that I do in fact love you because right now what I really want to do is SMOTHER YOU TO DEATH WITH THIS PILLOW" or "You should get me ice cream" or "You are a good parent" or "d.a.m.n you are HAWT" or any number of other things.

And you ask, why don't you just say those things instead of "I love you"? For one reason, because generally speaking we could say those things to just about anyone (when, you know, appropriate), but "I love you" is reserved away for the two of us, so it's a reminder of what we mean to each other. For another reason, in those times that we're frustrated or exasperated or angry or tired, it lets the other of us know that even though we are frustrated or exasperated or angry or tired, that doesn't change the fact that we love them. For another reason, as long as you mean it, saying or hearing those words never gets old. For another reason, saying the words gives you an opportunity to actually remember that you do love the other person-it's another opportunity to cherish them in your heart, even (especially) when it's an "I love you" of the "take out the trash, already" variety. And for a final reason, hey, you know what? We just plain like saying it to each other, and that's all the excuse we need.

Saying "I love you" isn't in itself a sufficient act of marriage work; words have to be backed up by deeds. Even so, I think saying "I love you" can be both performative and sustaining, the mortar between the bricks in the edifice of a married life. I'd say without hesitation that each of us telling the other that we love them, as often as we tell each other, has mattered to our marriage. It seems a simple and maybe even silly thing, but, I don't know. If you're too complex and serious to tell your spouse that you love them, early and often, I wish you joy in your marriage nonetheless. It works for us, we'll keep doing it, and I recommend it to everyone, for every day of their marriage and life together.

In fact, go do it now. If you're married (and even if you're not), seek out that person whom you love and who loves you, and tell them that you love them. Pretty sure they'll be happy that you said it. Which will make you happy. Which will make Krissy and me happy, on this our 15th wedding anniversary.

25 Geeks NOT to Follow on Twitter.

May.

15.

2009.

Since I was on a list of the 100 geeks to follow on Twitter, I thought it would be appropriate to give a little attention to the other side of that particular equation.

The 25 Geeks NOT to Follow on Twitter.

1. @DrunkenStalker 2. @MoroseOldBoyfriend 3. @IHeartBoogers.

4. @AynRandBoyToy 5. @EnterTheBas.e.m.e.nt 6. @Cats6Catboxes0 7. @BobaFart 8. @IDontBlink 9. @BathingInMayo 10. @MyVoicesSayKill.

11. @BrowncoatBrowns.h.i.+rt 12. @OneShower1985 13. @MyEyesYrb.o.o.bs 14. @USENETsMostWanted 15. @MomSezImSocialized 16. @LiveLongAndPerspire 17. @JobsGatesSlashFan 18. @ThatSmellIsMe 19. @SpksOnlyElvish 20. @WhatzNMyColon 21. @OwnzAZune 22. @CuddlePileReviewer 23. @MuggleMugger 24. @PolyDesperate.

25. @2Girls1Tweet Agnosticism Without Pain.

Feb.

8.

2012.

Slate (reprinting from the Financial Times) has a story on how difficult it is to be an atheist in the United States. I read the piece with the same att.i.tude that I have regarding most pieces about how difficult it is to be atheist/agnostic in the US, which is with a mild sense of dissonance. I have been the sort of agnostic that shorthands into "atheist" for all of my thinking life, and I haven't made any secret of my lack of faith. The negative consequences for such a lifestyle choice, so far, at least, have been pretty minimal and indeed close to non-existent. I'm not saying other agnostics and atheists have not suffered negative consequences for their lack of belief; I'm sure they have. What I'm saying is that I haven't, and it's mildly curious to me why I have not.