#

1.) Tell us a bit about yourself.

There is some question about whether being born down the street from the Crazy Water Hotel in Mineral Wells, Texas (smack dab in the middle of Possum Kingdom) caused me to be a writer. Fact is, I never wanted to be a writer. From age 8, I read. Tom Swift Jr books. Then anything that had covers on it. But I never wanted to be a writer. Sputnik went up and convinced me I had to be a nuclear physicist. That was something I almost achieved. I have degrees in physics and materials engineering and worked at Sandia National Laboratories on projects ranging from X-ray crystallography to materials fabrication for an atomic battery.

I had been accepted at UC Berkeley to work on my PhD but had 4 months between quitting Sandia and showing up for class. In that time, a friend who was a reporter for the Dallas Morning News and who always had wanted to be a writer (Geo Proctor sold dozens of books and was nominated for a WWA Spur Award a couple times) convinced me to coauthor an sf story with him. It sold. I wrote a fantasy novel proposal and two months later found myself with the dilemma of finishing it (it sold to Dell Publishing) or going to Berkeley. I postponed school to complete the book. And sold an sf book. And an action/adventure novel. And decided this was a lot more fun than physics. It’s been 30+ years now and I still think so. (Geo, on the other hand, has pretty much given up writing and is now a journalism professor at U of Texas, Arlington.)

My wife died from cancer during the last century, and our son is finishing off his first semester in college, possible major in psychology (the world has changed so much–he has a program “Sniffy the Virtual Rat, Pro v.2.” No more running the poor beasties through mazes. All computerized now.) He’s a fantastic writer (not just my non-objective view) but I have convinced him he ought to have a “real” job to fall back on. That about all the adults in his life so far are writers or artists or somehow entwined in publishing makes this both harder to sell and easier. Knowing the joy of seeing your work in print is tempered with the hours-long discussions of how a writer ever gets health insurance and the nuts-and-bolts concerns a reader might not consider. After all, we’re writers–we all hobnob with JK Rowling and her fabulous bank account.

Pets have tended to be cats. My all-time favorite was a black cat named Neutron who came close to being 18 years old before kidney problems did him in. Current cat is one of variegated colors named Isotope. Alas, this past weekend I went to Animal Control and adopted a teeny black kitten. The next day to the vet for a round of vaccinations, which he did not survive. Ozone was a cute cat and it amazes me how attached I got in only two days. Isotope must remain in 75% possession of my desk chair while I’m working and 100% when I’m not. He probably thinks he is lucky not to have to share with another cat. Other cats have been a lovely Siamese, Lotus Blossom, a psychotic Siamese mix named Dim Sum, Pixel and so on back into the dim recesses of history.

A hobby I took up about 5 years ago that still intrigues me is geocaching. The official tagline for this hobby is: The game where you are the search engine. Other geocachers place caches with treasure (ok, junk) and publish the GPS coordinates. Some require great skill and endurance to even reach (one on South Sandia Peak showed it only a mile from the base–straight up. Took me two hours to climb the peak, 10 minutes to find the cache) while others are in urban public parks but are cleverly hidden (one was in an evergreen camouflaged as a bird’s nest). Some I never find but the hunt is outdoors and at the end of decent hikes, which makes the dread “exercising” seem more palatable. There are all kinds of variations. One of the earliest I discovered was the “travel bug,” a metal ID tag with a mission. My first find was the “Far and Away” bug that asked to travel as far as possible from wherever it was found. I snagged it in Arizona and brought it to NM. From here it has been to Europe and back, to Alaska and Michigan and back to Europe, where it bounced around England and Scotland for 6 months and for the past year has not left Germany. Seeing pictures of its current location posted is like getting postcards from “far and away” places and people I’ve never met.

2.) What made you take up writing?

Pretty well covered above.

3.) Tell us about your S&S 22 story “Tontine”.

Years ago I saw a M*A*S*H episode where Col. Potter was the last survivor of a WWI tontine. The notion appealed to me and rolled over and over for a long time. I came up with a novel proposal which did not sell. The idea continued to speak to me, and I am very happy the short story has found a home in S&S 22.

4.) Can you share an appropriate teaser paragraph from “Tontine”?

“There’s no honor in it,” Jonna said sharply.

She reached out and started to fling the bottle against the wall but stopped when she saw the faded label with four signatures alongside hers. The woman sagged a little, feeling the weight of the years on her. It had been in this inn more than thirty years ago that they had been young soldiers, full of arrogance, ambition and strength, sure they would live forever. It was more difficult for her aged eyes to focus now but the names were as vivid as if they were freshly written. Jonna had been the first to sign the label, then small, dark, powerful, cocksure Bellarine. Torian and Freda had jostled each other to be next and had settled their never-ending argument by signing side by side. The last name caused tears to come to Jonna’s eyes. Asenthena. She had been the last to affix her name and almost the last to survive.

#

Visit Robert on the web at http://www.cenotaphroad.com. You can also see the complete interview series at The Book of Screed.

Be sure to tune in next week for another interview.