The Tormentor and I
Glaghghee

So you’ve read Old Man’s War and Whatever, maybe even picked up The Rough Guide to Sci-Fi Movies just to prove you’re a real fan. But don’t get the idea that you know John Scalzi just because you’ve read what he claims to be his literary outpourings. You can’t really know him unless you live with him. And I do.

No, I’m not his wife, nor his daughter, both of whom are amazingly fantastic people and you have to wonder how they put up with the massive furball of ego that is John Scalzi. I’m Ghlaghghee, John Scalzi’s long-suffering feline master, and it is now time to clear the air once and for all and reveal the truth about John Scalzi.

First of all, what you’ve read on Whatever, or in any of those books, or even on his film column over at AMC or Film Critic… I wrote those (and believe me, typing with claws ain’t easy…it doesn’t take long to scratch those letters off the keyboard. And purr-recognition software just hasn’t come far enough). Don’t get me wrong, the Tormentor does have a role in the creative process. In the morning, he’ll come into my lair and loudly muse about what “he” plans on “writing” on any given day. Once I have my assignment for the day, he drinks himself into a Coke Zero® stupor, only coming out of it when the sun sets and he looks over my immortal prose.

Why do I put up with this, you ask? Let’s just say the last time I failed to meet the Tormentor’s quota, he discovered that you can do more with smoked breakfast meats than simply eat them (although why you would waste such a delicacy is beyond me). So, what more is there to say about the Tormentor?

He’s a loving father and husband who lives in the wilds of Ohio on a vast estate that allows for plenty of mousing. He’s curious, especially about those things that have an influence on him. When he was elected President of SFWA, the first thing he did was e-mail every single person who did anything for the organization to find out what they were doing and what they were planning. Once he was convinced they knew what they were doing, and that he knew what the organization was involved with, he became much easier to live with.

He’s got opinions, too. And while some people might try to pigeon hole him, if you actually read his opinions (well, my description of his opinions, since we’ve already determined that I write everything you think the Tormentor has written), you’ll find them much more nuanced, even thoughtful, or at least as thoughtful as you can be when your brain is being supplied by a steady stream of Coke Zero® instead of blood.

Perhaps the greatest service he has done for science fiction fandom has been the Hugo Nominee packets. When my novel The Last Colony was nominated for the Hugo in 2008, he put together an electronic packet of four of the novels for the voters to read (it just happened that the non-included novel won). The following year, when my follow-up novel Zoe’s Tale was nominated as well as my collection of Whatever articles, Your Hate Mail Will Be Graded was nominated (and won), the packet was expanded to include practically all the nominated works from the professional categories to the fan categories (and the Tormentor has one of those fan writer Hugos, too).

In fact, one of the other nominees in the fan writer category once commented that John Scalzi was so successful at so many things, he wanted to hate him, but Scalzi was just too nice. Of course, he didn’t know that I write everything that appears under Scalzi’s name. And, as far as I know, Scalzi has never tried to tape bacon to him.

For this one weekend in February, I have the run of Chateau Scalzi and you have the Tormentor in your grasp. Do with him as you like. Ply him with Coke Zero® and electronics. Make him dance the puppet’s dance of joy. Get to know the real John Scalzi, not the one who hides behind the sharped paws of Ghlaghghee.

Originally published in the Program book of Capricon in 2011. Reprinted for Chicon 7 in 2012, where John Scalzi was Toastmaster.