Carl “Bear” Bussjaeger is an ex-writer; author of Net Assets (2003 Prometheus nominee), its sequel Bargaining Position, and the short story collections The Anarchy Belt and The Anarchists. He wrote fiction and nonfiction, drew cartoon strips, and generally annoyed people literally since the 1970s until he gave up in 2012.
(A friend tells me that I should specify that I’m more of teddy bear than grizzly. [grin])
More personally, I’m in my early 50s, six feet tall, a bit stocky, have brown hair; generally shaggy in the winter, buzz-cut in the summer, blue eyes. I tend towards libertarianism (but decidely not Capital-L Libertarian Party), and find New Hampshire’s state motto suits me well enough. I also come equipped with a twisted sense of humor that baffles a lot of people; m’bad.
Over the years, I’ve done a bit of everything: 11 years in the US Air Force, a year as a Correctional Officer, a few telecomm outfits, writer, freelance electronics tech, caretaker, private security officer, magazine editor, proofreader/editor, commercial graphics artist, investigator, construction worker, retail sales, web designer… I get around.
My hobbies are varied, as well. I (used to) enjoy writing; both SF and how-to articles, along with the occasional cartoon and political/social commentary. I’m interested in medieval history, which led me to the Society for Creative Anachronism several years ago. But I despise pointless bureaucracy, which in turn eventually caused me to quit the SCA. I also shoot, brew beer and mead, do metalwork, leatherwork, make paper, armor, weird gadgets, and garden.
I’m a strong proponent of space exploration and development; but believe it should be done by individuals and private industry, rather than by governments. My take on this is pretty well illustrated in my novel Net Assets.
I am very much “into” self-sufficiency, and I’ve acquired a broad range of skills to achieve it. Most folks who really know me consider me to be an effective jack of all trades.
I’m old-fashioned in that I still believe that a man’s word is his bond. If I make a promise, I keep it.
I used to have grandiose dreams. I imagined selling some SF, being a lower-B-list writer, getting a few fans, maybe even an invitation to a small local con.
Eh. Heinlein said something to the effect that good writing is that which people will pay for.
My dreams became a little more mundane. Holding down a decent job, buying a few acres of rural land, writing a little on the side. Enjoying life.
Then I just wished I could afford a little fixer-upper house, and fall in love with a nice lady, raise a little family.
These days… I wish I could pay my bills, afford some ground beef or chicken a couple of times a year. Maybe even a bottle of scotch. That would be luxury. No, even a bottle of the cheapest vodka would qualify as luxury. Not sure when I could last afford beef or booze, but it’s been a couple of years.
C’est la vie.