Right around five this morning, some animals decided to throw a screaming, raging, howling party in my backyard . . . with serious emphasis on the screaming and howling.

My dogs must have thought it was a great party, because they both joined in the howling. For maximum fun, they added some of their own barking and yelping, so I would wake up, see what I was missing, and let them run out there to join in the fun.

Yeah. That wasn’t going to happen, so I got up, calmed them down, and hopped back into my nice warm bed to sleep for another three hours.

Yeah. That wasn’t going to happen either. As soon as my head hit my pillow, I had the following conversation:

My brain: Hey, are we awake?

Me: We were, but now we’re going back to sleep.

My brain: Dude! We’re totally awake! Awesome! Weee!

Me: Quiet, you. I’m going back to sleep.

My brain: Okay, but before you go back to sleep, listen to me for a minute. While you were sleeping, I totally came up with this idea for the manga script you’re supposed to be writing.

Me: I’m very proud of you. Let’s talk about it in a few hours. After I wake up for real.

My brain: But it’s so cool! Okay, here’s what happens . . .

Me: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!

My brain: It’s due in 11 days, dude. I think you should just get up and start writing.



Me: It’s . . . [look at the clock] 5:13 in the morning, dude! It’s still dark.

My brain: Okay. If you really want to sleep, go ahead. I’ll be here when you wake up.

Me: Thank you.

30 seconds later . . .

My brain: ‘”I’m a cowboy! On a steel horse I ride! I’m wanted (wanted!) Dead or alive! Bow wow wow woooowwwwww.”

Me: What. Are. You. Doing.

My brain: I sing to myself when I can’t sleep.

Me: But . . . Bon Jovi? Really?

My brain: Hey, maybe you should play less Rock Band.

Me: I hate you.

My brain: As long as you’re awake, why don’t you get out of bed and write down this awesome story idea I have? It’ll be fun!

Me: I’m going to kill you with so much Arrogant Bastard tonight.

My brain: Yay! Everyone wins!

I got out of bed. The house was cold and dark, and my Macbook’s screen hurt my eyes when I woke it up, but I sat down at the dining room table, and worked on my script for the next four hours.

This is how I know I’m a writer.

That’s me with Gabe and Tycho at the Child’s Play dinner. I’d say we clean up rather well.

(Photo by Kiko)

I always love Penny Arcade (this  series on Gabe making a fake Facebook profile for Tycho, culminating in Tycho’s exquisite revenge, made me laugh so hard I spent a lot of time unsuccessfully attempting to explain it to Anne) but today’s comic presents a situation that’s wonderfully familiar to me.

On his blog The Whatever, John Sclazi is doing something called A Month of Authors, which is exactly what it sounds like. He’s featured posts from authors like Charles Stross, Susie Bright, and Patrick Rothfuss.

John invited me to contribute an entry to his month of authors, probably so he can play the "one of these things is not like the other" game at the end of the month. In his introduction to my post, John wrote about the origin of our friendship:

Now, while I was watching Wil, it turns out Wil was also checking me
out, in that bloggy, not-at-all-inspiring-of-Scalzi/Wheaton-slashfic
way, and we started up a friendly correspondence through e-mail, which went on for a couple of
years. Finally, last October, when I went to California for my high
school reunion, he and I met in the real world over dinner with our
mutual friend Mykal, who was deeply amused, to say the least, that two
of his pals had independently become Intarweeb SuperDorks and were now
meeting in the flesh for the very first time.

“So if this restaurant blew up, the Internet would be in mourning over you two,” Mykal said.

“Nah,” Said Wil. “They’d still have FARK.”

See. Wil gets it. I like that I can say I know him. Non-Biblically.

I sent John my entry Blue Light Special, which was rewritten for Happiest Days. It’s my favorite story in the book, and is in my top five favorite things I’ve ever written, so I was thrilled to share it with people who haven’t read it, yet.

Speaking of Happiest Days, I’m taking the final 40 or so international (and two domestic eChecks that snuck into the wrong bin) to the post office as soon as I hit publish. I’m behind on softcover orders, but I’ll be all caught up on those by the weekend.