Author: Rob

Best known for This Plague of Days, I write suspenseful killer crime thrillers and epic apocalyptic fiction. Love crime fiction? Read The Night Man next. Dig end of the world stories? Try AFTER Life. Time Travel? Binge read Wallflower. Is Armageddon between rich and poor to your taste? Read Citizen Second Class tonight!
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The Writing Life: Vicissitudes

The writing life has its ups and downs. As I was closing up shop yesterday, my editor, Gari Strawn of strawnediting.com, noted, “It’s been a week of a day.”

Amen, sister! Yesterday felt like Thwart Day. Whatever could go wrong, did.

First, I discovered that Google Docs can’t be trusted. Editorial changes we’d made to a book I’m doctoring did not necessarily take (as detailed today on my writing blog, Chazzwrites.com.)

But the hijinx didn’t end there. Besides getting a new word processing platform together for the editorial team’s collaboration, my internet connectivity became sketchy. (See that, right there? That’s what you call foreshadowing, partner.)

Working furiously to meet a deadline, other projects I thought I was going to get to faster had to be pushed further back. Not happy about that, but to pay the bills, the writing life often has to be about short-term and long-term.

My son’s PC crapped out on him so I consulted (AKA did the heavy looking on as he poked through the machine’s innards). I nodded sagely as he diagnosed the need for a new power supply.

Which got me thinking, when was the last time I did a full manual backup of my computers?

Backup

I once belonged to a writing group where some odd questions were often posed. Most memorable: “Who here writes with a quill pen?” Settle down, d’Artagnan. Write or type, but don’t be so precious and extra.

My son’s computer issues spurred me to be more proactive about the health of my desktop and laptop. Both are climbing into the age where they are antiques. It was past time to protect them better. I’d used Sophos before. This time, I installed AVG tuneup on both machines and eliminated many gigabytes of duplicate and useless files. Then I did a full backup, updates and virus scan. The process took some time, but it was inexpensive. It felt good to clean up my babies. My living does depend on their health, after all.

Finding balance

The writing life isn’t just about tickling brains, sly jokes, and meteoric wordplay. Because my brain navigates a meatwagon through the world, I’m also trying to find balance for my health. Despite some all-nighters recently (because of looming deadlines and tech glitches I couldn’t plan for) I try to stop work by 9 pm. After that, my brain is too overstimulated and I’ll be up for the night. Though the day had been an example of Murphy’s Law, I made time to go on a long walk with She Who Must Be Obeyed. Sometimes that’s the only time we have for long talks, as well.

I’ve gone back to vegan eating. There’s a long theory about the relationship between ingestion, temperature, and sleep, but the short answer is, for me, more vegan = less insomnia. Since I’ve gone vegan, my energy is up and I’m not schlumping around like a wounded animal quite as much.

I even made time to give myself a haircut last night. I shave it tight on the sides. Any tighter and I’d look like I have mange. It’s kind of a Peaky Blinders vibe.

Despite yesterday’s frustrations, it turned out better by the end. I’m more calm than I might otherwise be. Thwart Day was tough, but I was determined to make today better.

Then the internet totally crapped out on us this morning.

Thor…damn…it.

And so … we begin again. When I mention my frustrations to a friend, he always comes back with how much harder he has it. I’m not sure whether he’s bragging or complaining, but he’s not wrong. There are vicissitudes, but the writing life is still pretty sweet compared to all my other options.

Breathe. Repeat. Continue.

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Racing down the spiral

The Night Man is me.

I suffer insomnia. And I do mean suffer. This is a list of some my thoughts from last night’s fugue. It could be a flow chart that loops back on itself.

  • Bedtime! Got to bed early! Great!
  • Not sleepy.
  • Not sleepy. Sigh.
  • Patience. The trick to falling asleep is to neither try nor not try. Do or do not, there is no try. Thanks, Yoda, you little green fuck.
  • Calm. Patience. You’re an expert in relaxation, Rob. You can do this.
  • In “Jenny from the Block,” why does she sing, “I used to have a little, now I have a lot”? If she’d sung, “I used to have a little, now I got a lot,” that would be better. “Got a lot.” Rolls off the tongue and pleases the brain. I mean, why? Her artistic choice, sure, but why?
  • I need help. Hypnosis app. I go through a sequence. The free hypnotic sequence was better than the one I paid for. Grr.
  • Not sleepy. The walls are alive. When I see my sleep specialist in a week, will he review all the health dangers of poor sleep? Will he go over all the sleep hygiene shit I’m already doing? I ruminate about how my brain is, at that moment, shrinking.
  • Deep breathing…progressive muscle relaxation.
  • Random thought intrudes: How many cast members of MASH are still alive? I remember the street I was on and the angle of the sunlight on the morning a kid in my class mentioned the name of the show on our way to school. I asked, “Is it a TV show about potatoes?”
  • Let it go…let it go. And now I’ve got a Disney song in my head. It’s a good song, but not now, Queen Elsa.
  • Elsa. Else. Elsewhere. Elsewhen. I want to be elsewhere and elsewhen.
  • An editorial question is revisited. The editorial question bounces back and forth in my brain in a hypothetical argument that will never happen. Resolution = zero.
  • Second hypnosis app. Nothing.
  • They say Adderall can be a recreational drug, but isn’t it more a work drug? I mean, if I got Adderall, would I finally clean up my office? That would make my wife love me more. The smart drug from Limitless doesn’t exist but, hey! Where can I get some Adderall for which I do not technically qualify except, look at me right now! Gee-Zuzz!
  • Is there a podcast called Limitless? Good pod name. I should look that up. Maybe they have some good ideas. I wish I had a podcast called Limitless. However, I am feeling extraordinarily limited and sorry for myself.
  • Self-pity is not attractive. Add that to my list of things I dislike about Rob.
  • How much time has elapsed? Is it 3 or 4 a.m.? It’s 1:46. What? Really? Only 1:46 a.m.? Shit!
  • I should put socks on. Body temperature/sleep theory says that might help. Sigh. I lie there, thinking about it.
  • Eons pass. Mountains erode. Seas evaporate. The sun explodes. The heat death of the universe ensues. The universe contracts back to the size of a softball again and another Big Bang shatters the void. I see all of Time as a heartbeat and every single Big Bang is the pulse of all existence. An endless, meaningless existence in which Time is a flat circle on infinite repeat.
  • Was Nietzsche fun at parties? I bet he wasn’t.
  • But then there’s the whole multiverse thing. Don’t even think about that, Rob. You know how you get.
  • Will they really make the Spider-Man movie where Toby Maguire and Andrew Garfield come back to play Spider-Men from alternate universes teaming up with Tom Holland? That would be sweet.
  • Eons did not pass. It’s only 2:06 a.m. Deep breathing…nope, nope, nope. Did I eat something today that makes me this way? Why am I like this? I’m pissed. Is this mania? Not clinically, but it feels like I’m on the same continuum.
  • I should put socks on, but then I’d have to turn on the light and that can trigger a wake cycle and I’m trying to get into the sleep cycle aaaand…now I have to pee.
  • I don’t wanna get up, but it’s not like lying here is working, anyway.
  • Get up, pee, get socks, back to bed. Wait.
  • Is the pillow a thousand degrees? It feels like it’s a thousand degrees. Turn pillow to the cool side. Still hot. How am I going to get any work done tomorrow?
  • Toss. Turn. Patience wanes. Fuck Adderall. I need to be knocked out. Where can I get those darts they use to tranquilize rhinos? Where’s the nearest zoo that has rhinos and how good is their security?
  • Give up. Facebook. Twitter. Email.
  • No one’s emailing me in the dead of night because they’re all asleep. How I hate and envy them.
  • Fall into an Instagram rabbit hole of Karens harassing people just minding their own business. View of humanity plummets.
  • Back to Twitter. News. View of humanity plummets further. I have the Iron Man fantasy again where I get the armor and fuck up some people who desperately deserve it.
  • If I were in a different state of mind, I could actually get up and use this time to write dozens of books. It doesn’t work like that, though. In this state, I’m simultaneously overstimulated but my head feels foggy, as if I’ve been bingeing a five-day marathon of golf tournaments. I fucking hate golf.
  • Golf. Remember that time that guy cornered me at a wedding reception and asked if I was interested in golf and I said, “Fuck, no,” and he told me his golf story, anyway? Review how to kill with the stem of a broken wine glass.
  • Sleep is needed. I should try again (and yet, somehow, not try.)
  • I’ve helped hundreds of people battling insomnia but I can’t help myself. I don’t make enough money. I don’t do a lot of things I should. I could do a lot of those things if I could just get a good night’s sleep!
  • Self-recrimination isn’t helping. You knew it wouldn’t, Rob, you moron! Let’s review every mean thing anyone has ever said to you or about you. (I have an eidetic memory for that.)
  • I want potato chips. And chocolate ice cream. Maybe find a way to combine the two that isn’t gross. But that would require intravenous injection.
  • If I get COVID-19, I have to get a block of plywood by the hospital bed so I can knock on it to ward off the disease. That’s unquestionably the stupidest of my superstitions, and yet…
  • One and a half nanoseconds later: What if, instead of piling food on a fork or spoon, we put each food category in a line on a long plate, as if we’re doing cocaine, but with snow peas?
  • Editorial question revisited on a loop. Pointless. Nobody listens to Rob. If I were thinner and taller and not named after a felony, people would listen.
  • “Got a lot!” I mean, the rhyme is right there, J.Lo! Jesus! This aggression will not stand!
  • Watch an interview with a new Black Panther in which the reporter seems well-versed in the organization’s history, but totally focuses on whether to carry weapons to a protest instead of even nodding to their noble work in community activism to feed and care for people who were otherwise forgotten.
  • 3:30 a.m. The bed is lava. Despite the fan, I am magma.
  • Give up, get out of bed, and move to my backup bed in the basement where it’s cooler.
  • Toss. Turn. I am a turbine. Hook me up and I will power the planet.
  • I should be sleepy by now and yet I have the nervous system of a squirrel.
  • I make a mental note that I should write these thoughts down in a blog post so I don’t have to think them again. That’s how I’ll let it go.
  • Shit. Disney’s back.
  • Nah, don’t bother writing it down. I’ll probably forget half of it by tomorrow. (I did forget half, and yet, here we are.)
  • 5-something, I think. Finally sleepy. At some point tomorrow, I will easily fall into a sweet and delicious nap that will not be denied. I’m not supposed to sleep during the day, but it’s nap or die.
  • Sleep is finally creeping in at dawn, a turtle in a race that all the happy rabbits finished long ago when the night was young.
  • Eyelids like heavy weights. Good…good…let the hate flow through you.
  • And here she comes, on a loop as my brain cranks up again. “Got a lot! Got a lot!” GODDAMN IT, J.LO!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nCswWuyShg
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The grim future scenario I didn’t want to write

We’ve seen too many videos of police attacking viciously peaceful protesters. One would be too many, but there are many more than one, and not just in one city. In many cities.

As I began writing this, it started to become another long post about the injustice I see, I deleted that. I did a long post yesterday and if you get it, you get it. If you don’t, you’re willfully blind and there’s no sense having that conversation.

So here’s my quick thought for the day:

People saw a police officer kill George Floyd on video. We were told that wasn’t what we saw. Then they tried to introduce mitigating factors and excuses to play it down. Gaslighting, he’s no angel, and copaganda.

Some watched this careless abuse of power in disbelief. Many would tell you they knew this was going on for years. Until George Floyd’s funeral, there was still a lot of disbelief and sorrow floating around. I think that’s coming to an end. Not the movement, the emotion.

Police were ordered to crush dissent and it’s apparent a lot of them could not wait to assault citizens exercising their First Amendment right. The attacks on peaceful protesters are horrifying. However, when you push a spring down that hard, it’s going to pop up and catch you in the jaw.

My apocalyptic predictions

  1. The sorrow will fade somewhat but the protests will not. Authorities want the protesters to resign. The more they push down, the more they prove the point of Black Lives Matter. Instead of resignation, you will see steely resolve.
  2. As abuse of innocents grows (especially when it comes from a nameless, faceless force with no accountability) anger will expand to eclipse the sorrow.
  3. People who didn’t have weapons before will purchase them. Their fear of authority will recede, replaced with utter frustration.
  4. You’ll begin to see weapons at protests in the hands of protesters.
  5. As peaceful protests fail to move those in authority, good and hopeful people who chanted “Give peace a chance,” will be quieter.
  6. “No justice, no peace,” will get louder.
  7. More shots will be fired and the fire will not come from only one direction.
  8. Donald Trump will lose the election in November but will not concede.
  9. There will be more blood.
  10. America will remain divided.

    I’m not advocating violence. I’m seeing it coming, as predictable and as expected as a rush-hour bus at its first stop. I hope, somewhere in there, people who defy their oppressors will get the concessions they deserve. I hope they receive the legal protections and the value they were told was coming if they only remained patient for-goddamn-ever.

    2020 is the year the dam breaks. The reservoir of patience is broken.

    Black.
    Lives.
    Matter.

    Don’t like my predictions? Neither do I.

    To avoid bloodshed and chaos, the authorities will have to make concessions.

Here are some necessary concessions:

8 CAN’T WAIT

And from Killer Mike:

Plot. Plan. Strategize. Organize. Mobillize.

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This is 2020

Early in the Trump presidency, I listened to a podcast with two veterans of the United States military. They debated a point about the chain of command. One was convinced that if the president issued an unlawful order, all his military would disobey. The other was sure Trump would simply fire any defiant officer and work down the chain of command until he found a lowly private who would do as ordered. The order in question? A nuclear strike on a peaceful ally.

And now there are Little Green Men in tactical gear with no identification or even insignia in Washington. Nobody knows who they are. They say they serve the Department of Justice. That’s not an actual police force. Does William Barr have his own SS now? Sure looks like it.


I’ve been called Mr. Cynical many times. Watching the violent reaction of police to peaceful protesters tells me I was not sufficiently so. Has anyone seen police arrest any actual looters? I’ve been watching very carefully and the authorities seem very motivated to assault peaceful protesters exercising their First Amendment rights.

Note to the Media: Don’t lose sight of why the protests are happening in favor of endless shots of the same fires and broken windows.

Also, don’t tell us some rioters were “roughed up” by police. They’re protesters, not rioters. It’s assault or maybe attempted murder. Too often, it becomes murder, remember? If I beat you, you wouldn’t say you got “roughed up.” You’d say you were attacked.

The few looters serve the false narrative that the protesters are the problem. I have seen several instances where protesters have deterred the looters. No credit for that, of course. I won’t even get into the actions of agent provocateurs and propaganda put out by a system we’re told to trust and respect.

I know several people who seem to think police can do no wrong. I don’t know how they can maintain that delusion in the face of so many sadistic videos of militarized police attacking people who are no threat who are merely asking for accountability. They’re asking for police to live up to the reputation they want pre-schoolers to believe.

Don’t tell me it’s a tough job. Being a minority is tougher and you can’t retire from being a visible minority.

Don’t tell me they’re “just following orders.” That’s some Nuremberg shit and you know it.

Don’t tell me I can’t criticize police actions because I’m not a cop. (Yup, I’ve heard that before.) Nobody has to be an expert to see that so much of what’s going on is wrong.

Don’t tell me being a cop is dangerous. First, nobody gets drafted into becoming a police officer. Second, there are quite a few jobs that are more dangerous. Being a taxi driver is more dangerous but we don’t put them above the law. You know who else is in more danger of dying of a gunshot wound in the United States than police? School children.

Accountability is a moral necessity. De-escalation, not escalation. Prosecution not persecution. Equitable sentences, not sentences based on race. Decriminalize poverty by funding social programs and provide true equal opportunity, educationally and economically. Stop turning wellness checks into death sentences. Prosecute people who make false reports to police on P.O.C. for the crime of being P.O.C.

But, Rob, it’s more complicated than that. No, not really. Systemic change could happen. These policies aren’t set by aliens on a distant planet. We did this, so we could change this. Police could be escorting peaceful protesters, join their marches, quit or leave them alone. At the very least, the authorities could be targeting looters instead of innocent citizens who dare to ask not to be killed.

But don’t take it from me.

Instead, listen to 8 Can’t Wait.

I posted the following on Facebook this morning. I’m posting it again here so I can look back and, I hope, call myself too cynical.

Reverend Al Sharpton delivered a powerful and inspiring eulogy for George Floyd. His words reminded me of the church I used to belong to. He ended with asking the gathering to stand in silence for 8 minutes and 46 seconds. To George Floyd, those 8 minutes and 46 seconds must have felt like hours.

Rev. Sharpton congratulated George Floyd on changing the world. His little daughter has said her father has changed the world. I shed tears over that. The world is not changed yet. I know, I know, early days. I want to believe things will change. I really do. But the racists aren’t ready to give an inch yet.

That’s always been their fallback position: They tell the oppressed to be patient. They say they want justice and change, but not yet.

*Never* yet.

And before anybody dares to get snarky with me

“A time to listen….to recognize that we, too, have our challenges.”

ONE MORE TIME: 8 CAN’T WAIT!

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Happy Endings and Cover Reveals

http://author.to/RobertChazzChute

I write a lot about the end of the world.

I remember reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy and thinking, wow, this is relentlessly grim. However, there is a tiny crack of light at the end of the tale. The only apocalyptic tale that really bothered me was the end of The Mist, the movie that was based on a Stephen King story. The film concludes on a very sad note that is not in King’s original story. In print, the ending was more ambiguous but left the reader thinking there might yet be a future for the survivors..

After writing the final book of the This Plague of Days trilogy, I was contacted by a reader asking if I would write a happier ending in the future. No spoilers for the uninitiated, but I will say this: There is a high note of hope at the end of the journey of This Plague of Days. However, I would never make it my policy to finish any story with a mandatory Happily Ever After. You’re not supposed to pound jigsaw pieces into the puzzle to make them fit.

I strive to write satisfying and surprising endings. Sometimes there’s hope, like with Citizen Second Class. Sometimes the ending is a bit more ambiguous and left to the reader to draw their own conclusions, as with Amid Mortal Words. The conclusions you draw there will depend on your view of humanity’s potential. Whatever happens, the conclusion must not betray the logical advancement of the narrative.

I always want an ending that sticks with the reader long after they finish the book. I hope you’ll find that in all my novels and short stories. The ending probably won’t be expected, but you will think, BOOM! Oh, yeah!

I’m very proud of Citizen Second Class and Amid Mortal Words. The reviews are few, but the readers who find these novels enjoy them.

In Citizen Second Class, a young woman finds herself in the middle of a rebellion against the last of the ruling class, holed up in a fortress of the Select Few in New Atlanta.

In Amid Mortal Words, an Air Force officer meets a stranger on a train who leaves him with a book that could end the world or save it. All he has to do is read passages from the book and bad people die. But that’s not all the book can do.

To help browsers become readers, in the last couple of days I changed the covers hoping to better meet reader expectations (translation: seduce you and make you tremble in shivering anticipation as you hit the buy button.)

If you haven’t read these books yet, I’d start with Citizen Second Class. It’s a novel that is ripe for this moment in American history. As the new cover quote suggests:

“An all-too plausible vision of a near-future nightmare.” ~ Philip Harris, author of The Leah King Trilogy.

Or heck, buy ’em both. Buy ’em all. There you go.

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Podcast Signal Boosts

Worst Year Ever Podcast

I’m not selling a lot of books right now. People are otherwise engaged, whether they are marching in the streets or glued to their screens. I understand completely. Rather than flog my books about fictional apocalypses, it feels incumbent upon me to acknowledge the reality of the chaos. Like many others, I predicted this unrest. That gives me no solace. I worry for my American friends and readers. The images of violence against peaceful protesters leave me with nothing but hot outrage.

Mr. George Floyd was murdered. The officers who aided and abetted the policeman who knelt on his neck for eight minutes and forty-six seconds are still free. We saw it. No excuses. Police departments need reform. They need to know they’ll be held accountable for their actions. If you don’t believe that, please don’t read my books. You wouldn’t like them, anyway.

If you are politically minded (and perhaps especially if you are not) I recommend two podcasts to add to your listening queue: Worst Year Ever (above) and The Professional Left.

Too much? Need some stress relief?


Professional Left hosts Driftglass and Blue Gal are also huge fans of science fiction and have kindly mentioned my books on their show. If you’re a scifi fan who needs a break and a happy distraction, I also recommend their other very thoughtful and fun podcast, Science Fiction University. They discuss old-school science fiction. It’s a clever deep dive and a delight. Nerd out with Driftglass and Blue Gal over SF fiction and movies.

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All I’ve got for you

I have witnessed police act like thugs and bullies to the citizens they were sworn to protect. Last night, two NYPD police SUVs rammed into a crowd of peaceful protesters behind a barrier. Ordinary citizens are having to step up to protect their neighborhoods. To be perfectly honest, I don’t have a lot of hope at the moment.

The murder of George Floyd was a horrific act, but of course it is not isolated. Sandra Bland, Amaud Arbery, Tamir Rice, Breonna Taylor, and Eric Garner come to mind first, but that’s just off the top of my head. (Here’s more if you need reminding.)

Over and over, through the night and across the country, we saw more video of the kind of actions that are being protested. Although Seattle police were ordered to turn off their body cams, there is ample evidence that many bad actors have no fear of being filmed while they commit criminal acts. They aren’t helping their cause. They’re often making things worse. They’ve discarded their oaths. They are neither serving nor protecting. Remember when we used to call them peace officers? Instead, they’re often militarized and failing to deescalate.

Don’t tell me policing is a hard job. Surely they knew that when they signed up. You know what’s hard? Being an unarmed black man, woman, or child trying to live and get by without harassment, fear and subjugation.

There have been a few bright spots. One senior police official told those under his command that if they’re okay with the mistreatment and murder of George Floyd, they must turn in their badges immediately. The police chief in Louisville marched with the protesters. That’s a good way to go, but there’s a lot of distance between what ought to be and what is.

It’s frustrating to watch America dissemble and disassemble, but this was all too predictable. Rebellion comes from a perfect storm of several variables and systemic racism is only one component. Health care failures, failure of leadership, the coronavirus, the rent crisis, tossing Americans $1200 that was supposed to somehow last ten weeks. Many Americans didn’t even get that $1200 and no more relief is in sight. There are more Americans unemployed than there are Canadians on Earth. You can’t demand the oppressed to be patient forever without offering some hope of real change.

For your consideration:

Mike Schmidt’s latest podcast episode is called I’m in the Club. It’s about what’s happening to his country right now. Mike’s great at articulating frustration. I recommend it. It’s NSFW, but neither is America.

A while back, I recommended the podcast called It Could Happen Here, a thoughtful take on the potential for America falling into rebellion and ruin. Here’s the link:

And here’s the link to my most recent recording, “The Face of Victory.”

Taken from one of my anthologies, All Empires Fall, this audio short story was meant to be near-future science fiction about a peaceful protest that goes very wrong. Today it feels all too prescient.

For a longer read and a deeper dive:

For a novel about the gap between rich and poor and what it means for the soul of America, check out Citizen Second Class. It’s about what happens when the rich press the poor down for so long and so hard that, in desperation, they are forced to rise up.

I take no pleasure in watching what is happening in the United States. I have so many friends and readers who live there and I am worried for them. Future historians will spend their entire careers and write many books about the Trump era generally and 2020 in particular.

Frustrated and helpless, I can offer my best wishes for their safety, but what is that worth, really? It’s a civil war and a horror. It’s a rebellion. Thoughts and prayers are insufficient. Only change will do, but I see no path forward at the moment.

I can offer podcasts to articulate the crisis. I can offer fiction to provide distraction and stress relief. I’m so sorry that’s all I’ve got.