Die! Die!

OH, Well . . .

You know, people can write just about anything they want. What am I trying to say? I am not entirely sure, except a couple of months ago, I read my first totally sucky review . . . and it didn't matter. I was absolutely obsessive a while back. I would comb the various publications for any mention of my stories and hang on every word. I used to DIE (Die!) when people did critiques of my work. It didn't matter who -- or what. I'd just curl up and die. No matter what.

Now I don't care. I have no idea what happened, it just is that way.

The sad thing about it is, I should be able to be happy when good things happen, right? But that's not the case. Any more that it was when I saw the execrable review and thought, "that's a shame."

I guess what's going on is that, by the time something of mine sees print, I've already gone on so much since that it truly is like a stranger wrote it. I am happy, in theory, if people enjoy it. It's the same as if they think I'm some kind of fustulating moron.

However, I was happy -- thrilled -- to see Ron Collins get the recognition he deserves for his fantastic cover story of Analog, "The Taranth Stone." I thoroughly enjoyed that story and thought it represented everything good about science fiction, just the way Ron represents a "good person" to me when I think of him. Ron received a nomination for the final Compuserve HOMer ballot for 2001 (stories and books published during 2000). Me, too, but I researched a bit and found that it was Mike Resnick's boost that got me there -- Mike nominated it, and he has been an active part of the Compuserve forums for a long time, just as Ron has. That's their place, not mine -- but I am glad to be able to participate in some small way -- who wouldn't be, considering the great number of enthusiastic readers and writers who are part of it? I'm even more glad to see Ron and Mike receiving well-deserved recognition for their work.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, my work, as of the moment, is where I put my passion. If Le Hacker (see the "plagiarism" story) broke in and wrote me a nasty note about my current novel, I would definitely be upset. Not just because I was hacked, but because that's where my heart is right now. Not that I "leave" past things behind, just that I don't seem to be able to get all worked up about every little thing any more the way I used to (you have no idea of the true definition of insanity unless you were there in my jelly-brained head while I ruminated on every word of reviews or critiques in years past).

Sure, I have my own ideas about "what's good." If I didn't, I don't guess I'd write much, would I? I'd rather be using my new bread machine, playing with Meredith, or taking the Beast Badger for a walk. But everything in balance. Work, play, friends, prayers, family and Badger. I guess Badger's part of that, too. He certainly thinks he's the baby!

There's no shiv they can slip between your ribs when you write every day. If one thing doesn't work out, then on to the next. That's just the way it is. Although I do hope those who read enjoy what I write. I'm not in this to fail people or disappoint them or waste their time.