Geek Like Me

Some people dream big. They want to be rich. They want to be famous. They want to have sex with the rich and famous. They want to be rich and famous and have sex with the equally rich and famous.

You get the idea.

Me, I dream small: I want to stop feeling like a schmuck.

I've felt like a schmuck pretty much continuously since 1987 -- which was the year I first encountered the term "schmuck." (Hey, I grew up in the Midwest, alright?) Before that, I felt like a "geek." Before that, a "weenie." And before that, I was convinced that I was a complete "poo-poo head."

When one feels like a schmuck, geek, weenie or poo-poo head, much of one's life revolves around efforts not to confirm one's schmuckitude (or geekiness, weeniedom or poo-poo-headocity.) And the best way to avoid all that? Easy. Avoid people.

Real people, anyway. Sherlock Holmes, Philip Marlowe, Capt. Kirk, Batman, the Simpsons, Chewbacca, Super Mario -- they're all safe. Sure, they have their limitations. They're not going to offer words of comfort when your dog dies. But they're not going to make fun of you because your new haircut looks like a mullet, either. Which goes a long way toward explaining my experience in high school.

James Patterson was probably named "Most Likely to Succeed" in his high school yearbook. Joe Konrath, I'm guessing, was either "Mr. Congeniality" or "Class Clown." Me, I was voted "Class Quietest," an "honor" so dubious you won't even find it in most yearbooks. I may as well have been dubbed "Most Likely to Consume the Flesh of Murdered Prostitutes."

I stayed pretty quiet (and abstained from the eating of hookers) through the end of the 20th century. But with the new millennium came a new era for me. It was the dawning of the Age of Gregarious. I was going to be a professional mystery writer, dammit. And that meant it was time to face my greatest fear.

You.

Well, not you personally. I'm talking about everyone else. The world. Those dreaded people again.

But I swallowed my fear. I swallowed my pride. I swallowed my Xanax. And I went to a Bouchercon and did my first panel.

Unfortunately, I soon learned a hard lesson -- something the outgoing never mention to the inward-escaping when they're browbeating them with lines like "Don't hide your light under a bushel."

That light you're going to shine? Some people are going to hate it. They're going to say, "Turn that damn thing off!" They're going to wish you'd stayed under your bushel -- and they're going to let you know it.

Plots with Guns was the first to let me know. (Click here and scroll down to see what I mean. I'm the "bearded wonder" the columnist flogs near the end. Sigh.) And it hasn't stopped there. In the past few months, I've managed to unintentionally irritate/infuriate/alienate...well, let's just say several people and leave it at that.

The bushel beckons.

Yet as a wise man once said, "Wherever you go, there you are." (O.K., it wasn't a real wise man. It was just Buckaroo Banzai. Still, wise is wise.) Under the bushel or out of it, I'll feel the same. Like a schmuck, yes, but better to feel like a schmuck who's trying (and hopefully building some kind of viable writing career), right? So perhaps it's time I dreamed a new dream.

From now on, I want to be a schmuck who paid off his mortgage.

Steve Hockensmith
November 14, 2006

Yeah, you read the line above right. I originally posted this more than five years ago. Ha! Got you! You just read a rerun! But the joke's on me, really, because so little has changed in all that time. If anything, I was more brimming with brio and self confidence back then than I am now. The long war against schmuckitude remains unwon. Which is why you won't see me at many Bouchercons or the like anymore. My schedule says it all.

Fortunately, two things have changed for the better. First, I figured out that I'm a textbook introvert. (One who can accidentally dominate the occasional convention panel, yes, but an introvert all the same.) So now at least it makes sense that I always left those mystery cons of yore feeling like I'd just retraced the Bataan Death March in a sumo wrestler fat suit. I'd go, I'd hang out with great people, I'd have a ton of fun, and it would nearly kill me and I'd come home an emotional wreck. Maybe not worth it....

Second, a couple little Interweb thingies called Facebook and Twitter really took off. Now I can connect with thousands of people at a time without feeling like my soul's being sucked out through my eye sockets. Thank you, Mark Zuckerberg (and everyone who's sued you for supposedly stealing their great idea)! Thank you, Twitter Founder Dudes I'm Too Lazy to Look Up on Google! You've allowed me to form and maintain new friendships (and, in the process, gain a little ground in the Foreverschmuck War) in a way we introverts can truly appreciate.

At home. At a desk. Alone. Without pants.

Well, the pants thing doesn't have anything to do with being an introvert. But it is a fringe benefit.

¡Viva la Web!

Comments

[Anonymous]

A geek, as defined by Wikipedia (where else!), is “a person who is fascinated, perhaps obsessively, by obscure or very specific areas of knowledge and imagination.” Usually it’s exemplified in one’s prowess with technology and new media. Famous geeks include Benjamin Franklin, director George Lucas, Senator John Edwards and HDnet’s Mark Cuban Embrace your inner geekdom!!! You're in good company!!!

[Steve Hockensmith]

Mom...is that you?

Love,
Steve

P.S.: Sorry I missed you this weekend. I'll try calling again today or tomorrow.

[Sandi Hockensmtih]

Yes, that was me...how did you guess? You come from a long, proud line of geeks.

I'd like to add Bill Gates and Al Gore to my list of famous geeks.

I Love Geeks! Well, maybe not Al.
Mom

[Steve Hockensmith]

A son knows his mother, even when she's posting anonymously. Plus, when I joke that only my mom reads my blog, it's not really a joke at all -- I think it's probably pretty close to being true!

You're right, of course. There's nothing wrong with being a geek. Usually I fly my geek flag proudly. Yesterday I was just feeling a bit paranoid about being bad geeky (i.e., socially inept) as opposed to good geeky (i.e., nerdy and bookish). I'm over it now.

Thanks for weighing in with the Mom Perspective! Maybe you should become a regular on the site, like Dave Letterman's mom on Late Night.....

Love,
Steve

[Big Red]

Hey, no fair! How am I supposed to write what I really think of Steve Hockensmith when I know his *momma's* gonna see it all? Geez, now I'll have to think of something nice to say.

Mrs. Hockensmith...your son sure does have him some nice, thick hair.

-Big Red

[Brett Battles]

No fair, Hockensmith, getting your mom to comment. I won't even give my mom the address to my blog!

I was a drama geek in high school...where it was generally believed by the rest of the school that all the girls were whores and all the guys were gay...which never really made sense to me. (Can I say whores with your mom reading this?) Sadly, though, I wasn't gay and the girls weren't whores...

I'm going to regret writing all this in a minute.

That Sandi Hockensmith, she's one to watch!

[Steve Hockensmith]

My high school didn't even have a theater department, so I didn't get the chance to be a drama geek. Plenty of my classmates probably assumed I was gay anyway, though. At my school, there were basically three classes of male: Jock, Stoner/Thug or Other (Probably Gay). In the immortal words of the Barenaked Ladies --

Went out for the football team
To prove that I'm a man
Guess I shouldn't tell them
That I like Duran Duran

And don't worry about offending my mom, Brett. The lady swears like a sailor. Where do you think I got *my* foul mouth?

-Steve

P.S.: Just kidding, Mom!

[John Schramm]

Hi Steve's Mom (Sandi):

Nice to see you supporting Steve on his website. I just want you to know that contrary to whatever you might have heard, Steve didn't get plowed and spill beer on anyone in Madison. And he didn't lose his shoes. And he didn't leap onto a table and sing three rounds of RAWHIDE.

He was too busy going to "things."

-JTS

[Steve Hockensmith]

My Mom knows me better than that. I'd never jump up and warble the theme to "Rawhide" in a drunken stupor. I don't even know the words.

Now the theme to "Hong Kong Phooey," on the other hand...that I've been known to belt out at family functions.

-Steve

[Cap'n Bob]

As the moderator of that panel the complaining jerk mentioned I have to say that he's the only one I know who didn't like it. And in my opinion the bearded wonder did more to make the panel a success than anyone up there.

[Steve Hockensmith]

Thanks for backing me up, Cap'n! In truthfulness, the PWG thing really doesn't bother me anymore, and didn't get to me that much even at the time. But it is something I'll never forget merely because it so perfectly illustrates an important life lesson: Be nice, but try not to worry about whether or not *everyone* likes you...because somebody out there's gonna hate you no matter what you do.

-Steve

P.S.: Robert S. Napier is a writer to watch....

[Matt]

Perhaps you were required to be delicate, but as your pal, I feel comfortable calling that Plots With Guns guy a gold-plated asshole.

Posted Sans Pants

[Janet]

You and your Mom made my day today. My Mom called me as I was reading your posts and I had to read them to her to crack her up too. I've always said that I'm not waiting for my ship to come in, I just want a canoe. The horrors of winning the lottery and becoming the center of attention, not for me. We introverts are making our splash though with all the reviews of the book Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain. The title alone makes me feel good about myself. You are a step above me since I don't have a Facebook page. Even that amount of interaction wears me out. So go back to your messy desk and feel good in the knowledge that we are all supporting you!

[Heidi Eastin-Pichler]

It's ok to be an introvert. I am profiting from your not wearing pants. I'm enjoying the fourth of your books and have sent one to every member of my family. If that isn't a start in your mortgage, what is? Thank goodness there are people out there thinking and writing it down. There are way to many people who don't think enough. Thanks Steve.

[Eric Beetner]

You're speaking my language, Steve. Nice to know I'm not alone in wanting to be alone.

[Patrick]

All you people who want to be alone should get together. Oh wait. Never mind.

The trouble with pinning your self-appraisal on the opinions of others is that sooner or later, some idiot will abuse the influence he or she has over you - simply for the sake of making someone else as miserable as she or he is.

While reading that PWG story, all I could think of was that this person must really hate himself and his life. And he has a ridiculously small bladder. No wonder he is so POed!

[Lee Nelson]

As I write this my husband is out on the back patio practicing his Jedi moves. The ones that he learned from Nick Gillard last Saturday. My son is drying dishes while listening to Michael Jackson on his iPod. We all have inner Geeks. It's just that some of us embrace them and others fight it. I'm sitting on the couch editing my first draft of a novel in which the total is a play on the name of Nancy Drew and my main character's a prostitute.

I love hearing you speak, I always learn something from you. When I decided to stop fantasizing and start making writing a reality, I started by re-reading your books. There's nothing about you I would change.

[Steve]

Matt: Thanks for having my back! That's especially daring given the no-pants thing. At least my back has a shirt on it.

Janet: Thanks for mentioning Quiet: The Power of Introverts. I was thinking about that book when I updated this post. I haven't read it yet, but it sounds like I (and every other introvert) really ought to.

Heidi: "I am profiting from your not wearing pants" is my favorite endorsement of all time. Look for it on my next book. And thanks for spreading the love for all my old ones!

Eric: You're definitely not alone in wanting to be alone. You're a member of the big, boisterous introvert family. Our reunions are a gas. They're held on message boards, Facebook and Twitter every day.

Patrick: I hear you. A great round-up of one-star Amazon reviews for classic books was making the 'net rounds the other day, and I think there's a good lesson in that for people (like me) who fear being judged. If some schmucks are going to hate hate hate Slaughterhouse-Five or Tom Sawyer or whatever, what are the odds everyone's going to like *you*? So you might as well fly your freak flag and try not to give a crap who salutes.

Lee: Sounds like you and your family already have the flag up the pole, and I for one do salute. Congratulations on finishing the first draft of your novel. Finishing a book isn't just a great feat of will. It's an act of bravery. If I and my writing helped make that possible for you, well, hot damn -- that makes my day!