What I Carry With Me at All Times, and Why

Well, almost all times.

- My wallet.
- My cell phone.
- Keys to the house and car.
- A backpack containing the following:
- iPod.
- A couple of magazines.
- The book I'm reading.
- An umbrella. (I have to get a new one; yesterday's wind and rain destroyed my old one.)
- A baseball cap. (Mostly to cover my head. Usually I wear Cubs, White Sox, Bears, or Northern Illinois. When in Rome...)
- Aspirin and allergy pills. (Always useful.)
- A pack of Life Savers. (Usually Five Flavors.)
- A couple of pens and a pad. Because you never know.

Let me explain the last one.

In December 1993, I had just started back as a senior production manager at St. Martin's Press (still the best job ever). I was working almost exclusively on Tor Books, a primarily science fiction house that SMP owns, but operates fairly independently. Tor had just launched a new imprint, Forge, for the books that weren't technically SF, horror, or fantasy. Still mostly fiction, but the occasional nonfiction book as well.

We were having a sales conference in Short Hills, NJ, which was launching the books that would appear in the Spring 1994 catalog. And the lead Forge title was The October Twelve, by Phil Rizzuto, former New York Yankee shortstop turned broadcaster, with Tom Horton. To promote the book, Rizzuto was appearing at the sales conference.


Oddly, the event Rizzuto was at didn't have many, if any, actual sales reps - I believe they were elsewhere at that point. No matter, however, Phil was going to promote the book. And he'd brought along a friend -- Yogi Berra. Right up front, they said they didn't really have a speech prepared; they would open the floor to questions.

Now, remember Phil and Yogi probably weren't aware of who they were talking to -- a room full of science fiction, fantasy, and horror editors and writers. If they knew the two of them at all, they knew Rizzuto from "Paradise From the Dashboard Light," and thought Yogi Berra was named after that cartoon character.

It quickly transpired that there were three people in the room who knew anything about baseball: the editor of the book (who would last another year), the president of the company, and me.

I don't remember what questions I asked, but I asked a lot of questions. And between the three of us, it went pretty well. And then they offered to sign autographs.

And I had brought nothing to write on, or with. No paper, no books, no newspaper, no nothing. The editor told me he'd get me a signed copy of the book, but I don't think that's coming at this point.

So I carry a couple of pens and a pad with me. Because you never know.