Category Archives: Personal Observation

Eulogy

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One of the hardest things to do was stand in front of family, friends and coworkers to deliver some words at the time of remembrance for Rebecca. I struggled to finish what I was saying.

Our friends and family also gave their own words and they were wonderful. There is a recording of that, and I may post a link to it later. Below are the words I spoke that day:

Eulogy is a silly word with the ‘e’ and the ‘u’ and the ‘g’ and it just doesn’t fit. It’s the wrong word for describing Beck. There are a number of other words that should be used to describe her. Some of those words are –

Defiant.

If you wanted Beck to do something, simply tell her she was NOT allowed to do that thing. She would tell you precisely what you should do with your opinion and then head directly out to do what you said she should not. This is important because it is how we met. David said she was not allowed to meet me, so she threw her biker jacket and heavy boots on and stomped into the store where I worked to talk to me. We chatted, she was lovely and I asked her out. She said yes.

Passionate.

From dating, to marriage and beyond if Beck felt it, she felt it strongly. Opinions, personal or political were always ready. It was never anger, it was towering rage. It was not care, it was deep love. There was no middle ground when it came to her feelings. It was in part of the reason the song for our first dance at our wedding reception was ‘Storybook Love’ from the soundtrack of the film “The Princess Bride”. Those lyrics had deep meaning to her.

My love is like a storybook story
But it’s as real as the feelings I feel

Inappropriate.

If there was a crass, dirty joke to be made you can be sure Beck would step up. She was proud to deliver the F bomb at any occasion, or plainly describe the state of things. One memorable example was at my sister’s wedding. Ellen asked us to take care of greeting people and having them sign the guest book. When my mom’s dear friend Vesta arrived she asked Beck “How are you today?” Without missing a beat Beck’s reply was, “I’m bloated and my feet hurt in these shoes… how are you?” She was not always met with similar replies.

Caring.

Rebecca was always interested in helping other people. One of the things she most enjoyed was trying to make things better for other people. For a long time that meant cooking for everyone. There was never a shortage of cooking going on. She found GISH – the greatest international scavenger hunt and all its associated charities. She loved to participate in that event and would take a week off from work to do it. Giving and caring and doing goofy things along the way because caring didn’t mean being dull about it.

Strong.

The defining thing in Beck’s life became her health. As one of the nurses at the ICU said after I’d recounted her med list and her health history, “Wow, she has really gone through it”. I know most of you know the numbers now, but 10 major surgeries, including 6 for her heart, 2 strokes and too many hospital stays to count is a lot – and she just kept powering on. She lived these last years with a timer over her head that she couldn’t read. It was a struggle here, near the end but that is absolutely NOT how she would want to be remembered. She would want to be remembered for everything else.

Today should be about sharing stories, particularly the inappropriate ones. Let’s talk about her roles as mother, wife, partner, friend, activist, charity champion and how she will be missed by her family, friends and community. There will forever be an unfilled seat at our table, the absence of her light in the room and in our lives cannot be replaced. She had an impact for good in everyone’s lives she touched. She will be deeply missed.

To bring things full circle, a quote from The Princess Bride,

“Death cannot stop true love, all it can do is delay it for a while”.

Thank you all for being here for her.

She Is Gone.

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I’ve had a post, or series of posts up on social media for a few weeks now. I think I need to post this here, for ME on my website. I need to own this and keep it.

My wife of 30 years passed away in July. There’s no easy way to put that. She is gone.

Social media held a lot of messages and updates and information about arrangements and things like that. I think this post needs to give a little more, or rather a different view of things if not necessarily more.

My wife had health related struggles for many years. I’d posted about it and even published a piece about taking care of your own health during that time. She’d had more than a dozen hospital stays over the course of the past 20 years. Her first open heart surgery was back in the early 2000s when my daughter was just over a year old. Things always seemed to bounce back. We were always lucky I guess. We knew… but we didn’t know. The chance of everything going wrong was always there, it just never managed to actually happen.

Intellectually we were prepared. Physically and emotionally we struggled and muddled along. About 3 years ago Beck had her first major stroke. It took her a few days to come back around and start the recovery process. She did recover, mostly. She was never quite the same in a lot of ways. How we acted, the things we did and places we went changed and morphed over time.

On July 26th Beck started showing signs of having another stroke. I kept asking her what she was feeling and telling her she was worrying me. She couldn’t get up and walk without help, she started to lose the function of her hands. I asked her again what she felt was happening. The ambulance arrived, off we went to the hospital again. Somehow this felt different. There were other, small factors that were adding in here. They rushed her into surgery that Saturday night trying to relieve the pressure in her head. Nothing worked.

Three agonizing days with no real responses or movement or anything. A massive hemorrhagic stroke. We made the choice to go forward with her wishes of organ donation. It took until July 29th for her to be all the way gone.

Her last coherent words were, “I love you”.

I have cried more in the last month than I have in the last 20 years combined. Sitting here and typing things just doesn’t seem to cover it. I am wreckage. Almost a month along and I am only mostly functional. I’m planning to try to put more things here – but it will take time.

Sketching

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I’ve wandered away from the keyboard again. I’m currently working on in a sketchbook. There’s something wonderfully satisfying about being able to see the blank page and add pencil to that. The shading, the subtlety of different lead weights, watching the pattern of the paper as the pencil rubs off across it.

The blank page here isn’t the same as a blank typing page. The daunting task of filling a page with words is far different than the waiting paper, reaching out for linework and shading or stipples or even watercolors. Typing also doesn’t give the same visceral satisfaction of hand motion. The alternation of pressure on the keys makes no difference to anything except when I need to purchase a new keyboard because I’ve smashed a button too hard or cracked another support leg.

I don’t know if the “art” or any of the sketching I do right now will ever make it here. Sometimes there are things just for me. Sometimes I’ll share them with friends or around the game table – but the internet probably doesn’t get any of what I’m doing now and there’s a satisfaction to that.

I’m sure there will be more soon – until then, back to the pencils.

Making a Book Club Work

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Selecting books, recruiting members, and achieving longevity; what goes into a successful book discussion group?

I suspect I was asked to be part of this panel because of my long term connection to Watch the Skies and our 25+ year history as a club. The pre-convention notes were a little thin on this one and I was a little concerned. Turns out there was no need to worry. It was a small panel crowd and lots of lively bits were covered! Here are the notes I had going into the panel:

IF you read my bio at all, part of that list is a group called Watch The Skies. That group started back around the year 2000 as a science fiction and fantasy reading group. We are still going strong here in 2025. We have a lot going on, and a lot of aspects of the group that are only tangentially related.

First – the books (and how to pick them).

We have everyone write a secret selection they want to read on a slip of paper, then drop it into a small bag. Somebody who didn’t add a slip of paper in, reaches in and picks the book for next month. We do have some rules… we try to stay within science fiction / fantasy as a category. Some have been more loose than others. It needs to be in print currently. It should have been in print long enough to reach the paperback stage – we’re not out to bankrupt anyone.

Track your books. Keep that list someplace accessible. Our group has more than 225 titles we’ve discussed over the years.

Next – the social contract.

We’re here to have a chat about the book we read. We’re not here to crush anyone’s opinions, treat them badly or ostracize anyone. It’s meant to be a friendly, social thing. IF somebody picked a totally awful book, discuss the book, not their taste in books. Understand that not every book is for every person, and that’s what makes this fun. We’ve had our share of people come and go over the years – and some that went were the ones who bashed the choices of the group and didn’t bring any discussion points because they refused to read the book. Can’t help those people.

The Social – a big part of what drives it all.

We chat about books. Once we’re past the book chat, our topic wander all over the place. Don’t fear that, add to it. Mix in other social aspects. We’ve done book / movie trip combos for those willing. We have a social media presence (yes, it’s still Failbook) with more than 230 members. We don’t have a huge presence at each meeting, but we definitely have a core who show up on the regular. We connect with each other on our book review platforms. This is a social thing!

The Place – where do you meet?

We started as a book group in a Barnes & Noble. That was a draw back then. The corporate overlords took away the chairs and then the groups. We took our name and our group to another store. Eventually, that store decided it wasn’t for us (they treated us pretty poorly really). We went to another book shop. It’s a wonderful place, but they have many cats and that keeps some of our members away (allergies), combined with a limited meeting space. These days, we’re one of the most consistent and successful groups at one of the branches of our local library. Libraries (and librarians) are awesome. Go there.

In an important development – we also meet via Zoom (and you can join us too). This access is a big deal! There are more than one members that can’t get to our meetings in person for various reasons. Zoom is our connection.

The Extras – what other things add to the mix?

We do other things too.

We’ve participated as a group in small “comiccons” in our area, hosting a table where we gifted donated books to the kids that showed up. We volunteered, acted as cosplay judges and generally just had a good time.

Our members have a presence at many conventions both here and further afield. I’m here at Balticon this weekend. Some dear friends from the group will be headed to Confluence in July. We do our best to bring others on board, even if it’s only briefly.

Do your homework! IF you’re at a con and you’re talking to say… authors and artists and other creators make a connection! Invite them to join you. Ask them about their book and see about getting that onto the selection list – so they can call in or visit and talk about their work. See who is in your area by going to local author events and chatting with folks. Talk to the booksellers. Reach out to distant authors online. You won’t always have success, but other times you’ll be shocked by who’s happy to stop by and read to you!

In the past we’ve been host to authors (big names and local), editors, artists and musicians. We were a venue where they could promote and discuss their work, AND we got insights that other readers wouldn’t necessarily get. Winning all around.

The Zine.

I think the one thing that makes us special is that we also publish a fanzine each month. We’ve published 11 times a year since 2002 (about 23 years now). We have a cover art piece every month. We have articles, convention lists, and advertisements for friends of our group (not just anyone).

We are HUGO eligible (not that we get any love, even from our own membership).

This is your chance to make that extra connection with the creatives in your area and really push your group to be something special.

Convention Sales Pitch

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Over Memorial Day weekend I was once again able to participate in Balticon, the annual science fiction convention of the Baltimore Science Fiction Society. I’ll be posting a full report here (once it’s been published in its initial place), but until then I wanted to post up some of the notes I had for the panels I was on.

In general, I think all the panels went really well. There was one that was close to being a clunker, but some well timed moderation and good stories carried the day. I am already struggling to recall a lot of the details of each individual panel, so I will be sticking to just my notes and impressions and generally not what the other panelists brought to the table.

That is the best sales pitch I can think of for actually attending a con in person these days. It’s the experience of the whole thing. Anecdotally I’ve heard that lots of people are trying to get away from the pure consumer / materialistic aspects of life. Well, the experience of the convention is definitely something fitting to that category. A fleeting gathering of like minded folks looking to share the joy of their favorite genre topics. Things you won’t see anywhere else. Chances to dress up, talk nerdy and play games. Worth the effort to get there.

Yes – I’ve posted a number of other items here about the difficulties and challenges science fiction conventions have had lately. I still think they’re viable. I don’t want them to die. I love the idea of spending a weekend away just geeking out about the latest game / book / show and all the conflicting ideas about just how good it is. We can and should do better. If you get the chance – go.

Quiet time

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There’s something important about quiet times. I can’t put a finger on exactly what it is, but it matters.

As I’m writing this it is one of those quiet times. A damp and grey morning all the colors outside seem muted. Rain is alternating between a sad drizzle and a cutting, diagonal downpour. A warm cup of coffee fits, along with a book to read. Music with few words and soothing tones playing in the background.

Perhaps the important thing is that this is a short lived thing. I know that I’ve got a slate of things set up to do later today, grey weather or not. That will mean preparation and travel, filled with people and noise. The schedule will pick up and, if I am not careful, my energy level will drop precipitously.

This is recharge time. This is inspiration time. Time to drift and wonder and dream.

Take advantage of those times when you get them. I know I will.

My Favorite

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Some weeks ago I got a little break in the schedule and got to do something I wouldn’t have thought I’d enjoy. Turns out, it was great. I had a really fun, relaxing evening of entertainment with friends.

What was this magical thing?

I went to see a play.

My dear friend John had tickets to a local high school production of “My Favorite Year”. There was a moment when I stopped and questioned why my friend had tickets to a high school play in the area (and no kids in school), but then found we were going in support of a coworker’s kids. What the hell? I’m in.

We headed to the auditorium, grabbed our seats and got comfy. That’s when it really hit me – I actually missed that sort of thing. My kiddo is years out of high school at this point and there just aren’t any sort of events like this anymore. No school nights, no plays, no concerts, no games… all that is just over and done. God(s) help me, I actually had a bout of nostalgia and a real sense of loss.

Then there was the mess of a crowd getting out. All that nostalgia went away and I remembered all the pain in the ass parts. I had no connections of my own, no fellow parents to chat with, nor any of the ‘normal’ things associated with going to an event like that. The best possible thing for me was to get through the crowd and head out the doors. Easier said than done, but I managed.

I will say the kids in that production were great. The music, the dancing, the costumes were excellent. It was a great show. Start to finish, well done. If you can go and support the kids of your coworkers or friends, give it a shot!

First Casualty

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The first casualty of stress isn’t free time, it’s creativity.

The real world has been conspiring against me for a while now, attempting to hamper my creative efforts. It has been quite successful – just not enough of anything to push forward. Get finished with the real world requirements and fall over, drained.

Yes, there are lots of ‘creative’ solutions to whatever thing is going on outside of computer land, but that is generally exhausting and limiting all bundled into one. I’ve had a handful of times when I was without “something to do” over the past couple of months, but never a time when I’d had the space or physical and emotional recovery time to make something of it.

Recovery time is an important aspect of that. Just because the immediate issue has passed doesn’t mean everything just pops over into the creative stream and gushes out full speed. More than once I’ve sat here with fingers on keys just trying to will myself to type anything and failing. I’ve watched hours of short videos on YouTube, sometimes repeating the same ones because there’s some spark there that isn’t challenging and there’s an odd comfort to that. That moment of “oh, there’s an idea” and it just falls apart or I can’t get the energy to move has been real.

Sometimes I can’t wait for the muse or the recovery. Sometimes I just need to push ahead and put words on a page. They might not be good words. They might not be spelled correctly or they’ll have terrible grammar, but they’ll push my body to remember the part where I can sit and type for something that doesn’t involve work or an insurance company.

The big hurdle will be taking that process and putting the creativity back into it. Let’s see how this challenge goes.

Preservation

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I give way too much thought to my legacy for somebody that has barely cracked a dozen published works. Thing is, I can’t help it. I have binder upon binder of notes. I have this addiction to paper and all sorts of sketching and annotation and random outlining of ideas. It is admittedly less organized than I would want it to be, but in there is the culmination of years and years of world building and character notes and map sketches.

Who cares?

A fair question. First and foremost the person stuck cleaning things out I suppose. This is a difficult and sometimes tragic situation.

A long time ago I was asked for my opinion on some works left behind by a young creator. This young person had been killed in an accident and the grieving parents, in their quest for answers as to why this young person was gone far too soon, were lashing out at any and all entities involved in the accident. I was shown a sample of the young creator’s works and asked if I thought this was the seeds of a potentially legendary career cut short too soon.

It’s heartbreaking to see this kind of thing. One of the biggest factors in this particular case was the parents clearly having no interest or understanding in the work presented. Was this a factor in the so deemed ‘accident’? Hard to say. I had very limited access to information about the case (for that is exactly what it became when the parents brought lawsuits and criminal accusations). The scattered papers were gathered up and some notes attempting to bring order or sense were clipped to the front of the stack.

At the time I said I couldn’t see the level of potential claimed by the parents. The sketches were indifferent in skill, copying media available at the time. Fan fiction and use of copyrighted works without permission. I think about this from time to time. Would I see it differently now?

So, I have these thoughts. I have stacks of binders and reams of sketches, some in books and some floating freely across reference books or folded into game manuals. Will somebody look at those and claim there is more there than there is? I have my doubts, but I think about it anyway.

Then I wonder ~ what sort of gap in history will there be when these millions upon millions of words just go away? Yes, I have this addiction to paper, but how many notes, feelings, personal letters and all the other ephemera of an author’s life will be lost when (notably not IF) all the electronic records fail and the internet is gone? How will a researcher dig into the various aspects of what brought a story to life when all that life was held together with circuits and lights?

This is a thought I’ve had before, and one that will likely crop up again. The topic is worth the thought. How many thousands of my words would disappear if my website went away? Would anyone other them me care? What sort of personal correspondence would come up when somebody wondered if I bounced ideas off other authors? Will there be anything to find?

I think this article (link) is both hopeful and naïve at the same time. Not everyone has that addiction to paper. It’s worth reading and definitely worth considering.

Endurance

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Is endurance enough?

No, clearly it is not. There are many other factors involved in creating something that others can enjoy. It does bruise my spirit to see others I know and respect, people I have shared creativity with, lose the thread and stop.

This has happened recently to a friend. He posted a lengthy set of words describing how he was leaving the world of the ‘author’ effective immediately and switching back to creating things in a style and manner much more suited to his preferences. He has multiple books published. He’s creative and has a vision for his work. His words have inspired me before… and he’s quit.

I think that’s a harsh word and sounds sharper than I mean it to. He’s changed back to creating in other media, not listing piles and piles of words and mashing them onto pages for others. He’s won awards in this other format, and bluntly I agree with the people who gave the awards. Fantastic work, but watching the walking away of a creative person stings a little.

Part of this might be me seeing parallels. Part of it might be that his word production out paces mine by an order of magnitude (or more). I simply don’t produce words at the pace he does, even when he believes they’re not landing. Part might be the reality that success at any level beyond your local circle of friends is astonishingly rare.

This is not the only bit I’ve noticed, but it worries me to approach the rest of it.

I’ve never been a person to indulge in ‘crisis’ activities. “Mid-life” implies an end point is known. There are so many things to do in this world, there are so many places to see and even people to meet that giving in and wallowing in bad feelings seems like time that could be better spent trying to do all those things. And yet.

Maybe it’s as simple as being a sign of age.

I was at a second hand book store and found a very nice looking collection of old game books. Being a lover of Dungeons and Dragons, it was my first instinct to pick them up and inspect them despite owning all these works twice over already. Clearly my first mistake. When I picked one up and opened the cover it had the name of a friend I hadn’t seen in a long time written inside. Admittedly, we’d lost touch over the past couple of years, but we gamed together. His smile and his characters and his enthusiasm were always a bright – sometimes to the point of being insufferable – spot in the game. Why would he, being of similar age and mindset give up these most prized of possessions from the past? I went in search of his contact information… only to find out that he had died and nobody had said anything to me about it.

I’m not going to claim some wrong doing or severed kinship here. This is not some odd missed connection internet story. It was just sad. I was sad that I hadn’t known. The certainty of never having those conversations again was a blow. I closed the cover and placed the book back on the shelf. I haven’t been back to that shop since then. I don’t want to dig into that chapter again.

More and more of my peers quit, fade away from the community we’ve had over the years or die. It is becoming more of a struggle, but one that I intend to continue. There is still so much to do and see and experience that I must go forward. I must do all the things. New goals will be set. New paths made to move ahead.

So I endure.