Members of Critical Mass: Ian Tregillis

This weekend I learned that Ian Tregillis's browser won't let him comment on my blog. I thought I'd take this opportunity, then, to say a bunch of stuff that he won't be able to contradict until Wednesday night's Critical Mass meeting (and Ian, if you kill me and I don't post on Thursday, all of my internet fans are gonna know, so be warned.)

Ian is the group's pity case. He attended Clarion the same year that Critical Mass member, Walter Jon Williams, taught, and Walter, being a kind hearted soul, told Ian that he obviously had a lot of enthusiasm for writing, and that's great, but he needed to break out of his usual first person stream-of-consciousness rants against goverment mandated medication for violent schizophrenics. Ian spent the rest of the workshop in the men's bathroom screaming about his need to feel at home in his own creative space and not to have to repel invasions by the FBI's god-machine, which kept breaking into his dorm room and replacing all of his things with identical looking items.

We took him in to Critical Mass because we're a charitable sort of folk. It has nothing whatsoever to do with him writing impressive stories that won him a spot as a contributor to Wild Cards, nor his cowriting a television pilot with Melinda Snodgrass, nor his landing a three book deal with Tor last month. Absolutely nothing. Ian inspires pity from everyone, including Patrick Nielsen-Hayden.

Nothing in this posting, I should add, is a quote from the absurd conversations Ian and I have when we're both sleep deprived, understimulated, and on long road trips across the desert to get to meetings and Cons. Nothing at all, I assure you.