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

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.

The Face of Victory



mybook.to/AllEmpiresFall


mybook.to/AllEmpiresFall

People are starving for food and equality across the United States. Jennifer Charles worked in a food bank and puts up posters to call people to demonstrate against her government’s ineptitude and callousness. Her defiance makes her a target.

Listen to this story now, read by the author.

The Face of Victory is a story about how revolutions begin. You’ll find it in my collection, All Empires Fall, Signals from the Apocalypse.

A reading of The Fortune Teller

Enjoy a reading from Murders Among Dead Trees

The Fortune Teller from Murders Among Dead Trees, read by the author

Take a little break from your day (8 mins, 36 seconds) with a reading of a suspenseful short story by Robert Chazz Chute.

First dates are hard. Sarah is about to discover her mistake when she steps into a carnival tent in the Twilight Zone. This is the realm of the fortune teller.

What I talk about with readers

At the end of each book, I have a link to my Facebook fan group. These are kind readers who elect to hear from me reporting in from the blanket fort daily. I make jokes, talk about the writing life, and sometimes opine about the gap between the way things are and how they ought to be. It’s a safe space for those who dig what I do and I truly enjoy it. They do, too. Friends are the family we choose. Interest, fun, and empathy are the glue that holds it together.

In the past few weeks, I’ve posted amusing memes, linked to fresh blog posts, talked about the ongoing fall of civilization, and discussed the challenges of foraging and scavenging in the apocalypse. We also engage with questions like the following:

What’s your blocking policy on social media?
What books would you consider contemporary classics?
What has COVID-19 done that took you by surprise?
Who are the celebrities you’ve met and what were your impressions?
What concerts have you attended that stood out?

In other words, Fans of Robert Chazz Chute is all over the place and I like it that way.

The vibe is hanging out with friends. I’m not leaving my blanket fort for the next two years, so this is pretty much my only social interaction. (She Who Must Be Obeyed, Musical Son and Business Daughter don’t count as social interaction. They’re contractually obligated to listen to my latest bout of hypochondria.)

Here’s a sample post from the Inner Circle:

Today, a little review. Also, with one question, I shall demonstrate that I am incapable of pleasant small talk.

I finished watching the second season of After Life on Netflix. The depiction of the psychotherapist will annoy She Who Must Be Obeyed. I know the character is supposed to be a counterpoint and comic relief, but he’s a sour note struck too often. For dramatic purposes, is psychology ever done right on screen? (I, too, have written short stories featuring Dr. Circe Papua that thankfully don’t reflect the happier reality of the profession.)

On the plus side of After Life, Ricky Gervais makes a strong choice I admired. He knows he’s wallowing in grief for his deceased wife. He says he’s wallowing. Then he wallows. He tells and shows and risks annoying the viewer by actually wallowing. He’s stuck. This is what stuck really looks like.

The other aspect I appreciated was that he resolves to be a better person. To do so, he can’t be who he is. Fiction and non-fiction are packed with aspirational stuff about how to change. (I’ve written about that, too.) The unpopular slant here is that his character discovers the limits of how much he can change. A total revamp is too ambitious.

People can and do change. Can they get a full personality transplant, though? For me, I don’t think I’ve changed all that much since I was in my 20s. As a little kid, I distinctly remember worrying about burning in hell. I was an atheist for a long time, went through a brief religious period, then settled back on atheism.

Is there something fundamental about you that’s changed over the course of your life?

Further thoughts for fellow writers

If you’re a writer trying to engage with fans, I’d encourage you to open up and be real. Not everyone will be equally comfortable with honesty and your boundaries of privacy will vary from others. I don’t worry about that overly much. I don’t hide the fact that my political leanings are to the left, for instance. That’s the subtext of some of my fiction, too, so I doubt I will shock or offend many of my hardcore readers. If someone were to be mean, I’d simply eject them, but I haven’t had to do that yet. My readers are a lovely bunch of people. They’re supportive. I love writing books for them. I love the creative outlet of reaching out to the group.

I would also say to fellow writers that posting daily on a platform you don’t enjoy for a fan base that isn’t there wouldn’t make much sense. If you write middle-grade novels, your target audience probably isn’t on Facebook.

Keep in mind that anyone on my fan page is part of my core readership. They know my books. They don’t come to critique. They come because they love the books (and probably stay for the jokes.)

Regular readers who don’t want that much interaction beyond the pages of my whimsy might sign up for my newsletter and leave it at that. I avoid bothering newsletter subscribers often. Certainly, gurus would have me sending emails and setting up sales funnels but I decided a while back that is not for me. It feels too artificial and bothersome for the more casual reader. Unlike the Facebook group, all the newsletter group generally wants to know is when the next book is coming out or if there’s a promotion going on. That’s fine with me, too. I only take volunteers for the Inner Circle. No one is drafted.

For readers

Please so subscribe to my newsletter if you’re of a mind to do so. I promise I won’t bother you often.

If you’re hardcore, here’s the link to that Inner Circle: Fans of Robert Chazz Chute.

Easy & The Night Man’s Cover Tweak

The Night Man, A Killer Crime Thriller

http://bit.ly/TheNightMan

The main character in The Night Man is not your typical hero. Easy Jack returns home to Orion, Michigan, wounded and struggling to recover. A former Army Ranger, he has a scorching case of PTSD. His vision is impaired in bright light and his left knee always hurts.

His dad gets mixed up in some shady criminal activities, but Easy’s got nowhere else to go. His history in Orion leaves him cold as a romance with his high school girlfriend heats up. All he wants to do is forget the past and train dogs for K9 units. He’s got Sophie, a loyal German Shepherd, by his side. Good thing, because some very nasty people keep trying to kill Easy. And what’s with the devious billionaire showing up on his doorstep?

The mystery unfolds with many revelations and twists. If you haven’t checked out The Night Man yet, please do. Here’s the universal link to take you to your country’s Amazon store. It’s available in ebook and paperback.

About the Cover

Several of my covers have evolved over time. Sometimes I experiment. I love this powerful cover image, but I did worry that some may interpret the novel’s presentation as horror instead of a suspenseful action thriller. When my editor, the ever-helpful Gari Strawn (of strawnediting.com) wondered out loud about the same issue, I finally got my butt in gear to do something about it. I added the subtitle “A Killer Crime Thriller”. I tweaked the keywords and the book description, too.

Of all my work, I suspect The Night Man might be among the most underrated, not least because, amid all the soulful mayhem, it’s damn funny.

Have a happy Wednesday, merry reading and enjoy!