G.T. Labs

Jim Ottaviani

Running in 2019

 

Coming out of the Canada-U.S. Tunnel

It doesn’t always look it, but I like to run, and I just closed out another year of races with the always beautiful Detroit half-marathon, the race that takes you across the Ambassador Bridge at dawn and back into the U.S. via the International Underwater Mile™. I had my best time through the tunnel between Canada and the U.S. in a while (7:14) but I couldn’t hold on to that pace. A knee injury and a couple weeks of training lost to Blue-footed Boobies and marine iguanas and Galapagos Giant Tortoises (okay, no regrets!) contributed to low mileage before the race this year, and add in aging (ugh) and my calves started cramping and threatening to pull soon after that shock of cold air greets you coming out from under the Detroit River.

So, here are before and after shots of my body reminding me “There are now a lot more age groups younger than yours than there are older ones.” Actually, I never look like I’m having a good time while I’m running, even though I usually am, so that grimace may not mean what you think it means. But things did start to go south under Cobo Center and the People Mover, so maybe?

Anyway, I gave up at least a minute in the last 5k when on a better day I would have gained some time. But hey, I had some good trail races earlier this year so I can’t complain. (Good races for me, that is; no Kenyan egos were harmed by my presence, I assure you!)

Me less than a mile later. Okay, it’s really a Galapagos Giant Tortoise. But you knew that, right? (Because I don’t eat during a race.)
The real me, and not as unhappy as I look, I promise!

The nicest thing about the day: Apparently another runner was using me as a pacer. He passed me in the last kilometer and beat me by about 20 seconds but found me in the corral after the race and thanked me for helping him run his first sub-1:40 half. Well. Cool! I had no clue, but you’re welcome, and that changed it from a meh race to a good race. So thank you! I broke 1:40 too, which is okay, I guess, but given a stronger-than-expected start I wasn’t delighted with the weak finish. Not sad, since I figured that would be a respectable time given injuries and lack of training, but ya know, I’m never satisfied.

And next year? At the very least, I need to arrive early enough to park on a lower level. The post-race stair climb to the 6th floor parking level this year? Ugh. 🙂

Frank Sinatra and Stephen Hawking

 

If you come and hear me talk about the Hawking book—look, there’s an Events link right here on the site!—you might hear me refer to Gay Talese’s famous (justifiably so!) piece “Frank Sinatra Has a Cold”. Here’s a link to an annotated version of this excellent essay.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I do, and that you can learn why I like it by coming to one of my book talks!

The Michigan Author’s Workshop

 

I had a great time at the Michigan Author’s Workshop last week, and got a chance to look around Midland — a place I’ve never been — the next morning before heading home. So, some photos!

Midland Center for the Arts
The Venue

The talk took place at the Midland Center for the Arts, a lovely place. My hosts (Helen and Chris) and co-presenter — poet David (D.R.) James — were excellent too.

Seven Saints and Sinners
Watching over me, not helpfully

We had some tech difficulties (“Oh, about that HDMI port we said you could use. It doesn’t actually work!” “Um. Okay?”), but in the end we got a big ol’ TV in there and watched episodes of “The Good Place” instead of my talk.

A saint
Do good sales mean a good presentation? (Maybe? Probably? I hope?)

Not really, but it was a close thing. In the end, I was able to show images — important when talking about comics — and people seemed happy with my discussion of comics storytelling, its tools, and the research process for Hawking. That is, if “book sales > than number of attendees” is a valid measure of happiness, anyway.

It ran late, so I stayed over night and the next morning, before returning home, I visited the Dow Gardens and the Alden B. Dow Home & Studio.

Alden B. Dow exterior
The chimney is built for climbing. (In a less risk-averse age, anyway.)

You can’t take photos inside, so you’ll just have to go see it for yourself. I’d heard about the home for years, so was grateful to get a chance to finally visit. Definitely worth it!

A fine event in a fine mid-Michigan town. Thanks again to Saginaw Valley State University. I’d go again!

 

A week of books!

It’s been a thrilling seven days here at G.T. Labs!

July 2nd saw the release of Hawking (art by Leland Myrick) and today, July 9th, the paperback version of The Imitation Game (art by Leland Purvis) comes out.

We celebrated the former with release parties on the West Coast—hosted by Vroman’s and featuring Leland Myrick—and one on the Third Coast, hosted by Literati Bookstore and featuring me talking about the view from Hawking’s bedroom and other places and ideas that have been on my mind for years. We followed the event in Michigan with a party that featured a thematic, frozen treat. For it I gave Rob of Go! Ice Cream some loose parameters: your chocolate sorbet as the foundation, the April, 2019 black hole photo as inspiration, and a singularity in the middle. He added stars, named it (that wasn’t me, really!), surprised me with the choice of the singularity, and it was 100% delicious.

I can’t promise I’ll have any on hand for future events this summer, since those all involve hours of travel, but I do hope to see you somewhere out in the world where we can talk about comics and science and math and Pop Rocks and whatever else you want to hear about!

 

Astronauts! Coming in February 2020!

It’s about to get all Hawking, all day every day here at G.T. Labs, but before that happens I wanted to get this great news on the blog: Astronauts, in collaboration with Maris Wicks, is an official thing that will come out next year.

This book was a joy to do, from my first interview with Mary Cleave through the writing (I can remember struggles while making every book but this one) to seeing the first panels Maris drew. And now it’s on First Second’s official schedule. (You can preorder it here.) I sure hope readers love this one as much as Maris and I do.

Cheers to her, cheers to our protagonist Mary, and cheers to exploration.

 

 

No regrets

The Who in Detroit
Our view, photo by Kat

I didn’t leap at the chance to see The Who here in Detroit. I’m not a big concert-goer—crowds, decibels, cost, and opening bands all make me think “Nah, I’ll just listen to the album instead.” I’m not proud to say that I often get bored at even good shows, and as my mind wanders I wonder when it’s going to end and please, I’m tired and I have to work tomorrow so I want to go home now so no encore.

There are exceptions, and performers who meant a lot to me during certain periods of my life, but that’s mostly true of solo artists like Lyle Lovett and Aimee Mann. Arena rock, though? It only took a few shows (the Police and U2 back in the day) to make me sure I didn’t need that sort of thing in my life any more.

But…The Who. I started listening to them in the 1970s, via WLS, 89 on your AM dial all night long. I’ve never stopped. But, these days Daltrey and Townshend are all that’s left and is that enough? And they’re…well, they’re old. And because I now know more than John “Records truly is my middle name” Landecker ever told me through my transistor radio about their complicated relationship to each other and touring, that makes them less like the monolithic presence they were to me when I was a kid. (Yes, that was a “Who’s Next” joke.)

So when I saw they were coming to Detroit I said, out loud, to my wife. “Not interested. What’s the point?”

And then I thought about it some more, and read more about the show and how they were working with a symphony orchestra and that this might be the we-really-mean-it-this-time last tour together and I thought about Douglas Adams’ best book, Last Chance to See. And I realized this was probably it for me, and if I didn’t I’d regret it as much as my wife regrets skipping a chance to see Zappa, her favorite artist, when she had a chance.

Long story short, I went. K came with me, even though she’s emphatically not a fan, and neither of us were bored for a moment. Daltrey and Townshend were technically superb, both musically and in the way they put together a show that played to their strengths and mitigated any weaknesses age might have dealt their voices or bodies. When the music demanded their youthful power Daltrey could still deliver a full-volumed and anguished prayer and Townshend could still deliver a series of chords that started and ended with his arm straight above his head. The hair stood up on my arms and neck during more than one number. It was emotional and inspiring in ways the disaffected youths that we all were—or in my case, pretended to be—would have scoffed at as a teen. This is not going gentle into that good night. As Townshend said at one point, “I fucking hate this. But I’m really good at it.” Maybe that’s about playing live and touring or how he and Daltrey don’t communicate well. Maybe they don’t, sort of, in some contexts…but it’s obvious they like being good together. And they were very good together in Detroit.

They didn’t play an encore, and I wanted one.