Color me gobsmacked: Personal Effects: Dark Art, the transmedia supernatural thriller novel I wrote with Jordan Weisman, is required reading for an English course at the University of Mary Washington in Fredericksburg, Virginia.

The class is ENGL 376MM: World Building, and is taught by Zach Whalen, an assistant professor in the department of English, Linguistics and Communication. More on Whalen in a moment — first, get a taste of what this class is all about:

Our goal will be to [explore] world building within the expressive practices supported by New Media technologies, and we will proceed by examining texts that imagine Virtual Reality technology or Alternate Worlds. The culmination of this will be to collaboratively design and deploy an Alternate Reality Game of our own.

Students are also required to become active bloggers during the course, build and describe a virtual world, and research — and make a class presentation about — a specific ARG campaign.

Dude, I so want to be in college again, just to take this class.

Dr. Whalen definitely has the chops to rock his students’ socks: He teaches in the area of New Media Studies, and his research focuses on videogames. According to his website, he earned his Ph.D. “by completing a dissertation on the textuality of videogame typography. Also, in 2008, Vanderbilt University Press published Playing the Past: History and Nostalgia in Video Games, the collection of essays I co-edited with Laurie N. Taylor.”

His book looks awesome. I just bought it on Amazon.

Especially flattering is that Personal Effects is required alongside Neal Stephenson’s classic, Snow Crash. (SC is one of my favorite novels.) Also on the reading list is the very insightful This is Not a Game: A Guide to Alternate Reality Gaming by Dave Szulborski.

I can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that my novel will be read in a college classroom — but I’m absolutely jazzed by the news. I’m very proud of Personal Effects and the “out of book” experience we created for it, and am humbled Dr. Whalen felt it was worthy to include in his curriculum.

Most important, I’m delighted that teachers like Whalen understand the cultural significance of this emerging form of storytelling, are embracing it, and are sharing their knowledge and enthusiasm with their students.

Pardon me. I must do the Snoopy dance now.

–J.C.

(A grateful shout goes to ARGNet’s Michael Andersen for tipping me to this on Twitter!)

I went to the dentist today. For the first time in 20 years.

I take no pride in this epic neglect, and am ashamed of the insidious fear that I somehow embraced years ago — a fear that all but ensured I’d never sit in a dentist’s chair again. I can’t tell you when my pervasive fear of dentists began, or how it was formed. I can’t tell you why the thought of someone examining my teeth eventually became far more than an uncomfortable one — because for you, it’s probably that: merely an uncomfortable thought and experience — or why it detoured into a rat-toothed breed of to-the-marrow terror.

I can’t provide you or myself a tidy “why,” perhaps the most crucial element in conquering an irrational fear.

For the past 20 years, this phobia dictated my life. I told no one. I became its slave. As the years went on, my fear of dentists was compounded by the fear of what might be happening inside my mouth, and what would be discovered were I to be examined. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve started awake, slick with sweat, from nightmares of tooth loss. Fear heaped upon fear.

I ignored warning signs of tooth pain; cavities, most likely. And for more than a decade, my tongue probed an ever-growing wall of tartar behind my front lower teeth that became so hard and large, it completely covered those teeth and nearly all of the gum below. I could no longer feel the contours of my individual teeth. It was like pressing your tongue against a ceramic bowl.

This specific, tangible representation of my situation inspired more dread within me than anything else I’ve ever known.

My girlfriend and I are moving to Colorado in two weeks, and she made it clear that visiting her dentist before our departure was something very important to her. She booked an appointment for me. I resisted, and eventually confessed my secret fear to her. She was supremely supportive and sympathetic. And because she was so supportive, I didn’t bail.

I wanted to. I haven’t the words to adequately express how desperately I wanted to. On the drive this afternoon, I gripped the steering wheel so tightly, my knuckles burned white. I prayed for a flat tire. I was pulled taut, could barely speak; red-line adrenaline revved through my capillaries.

I wept when I climbed into the dentist chair. I wouldn’t open my mouth when the technician wanted to do an x-ray. I shuddered and sputtered, sounding stupid as the dentist — a delightful, patient, round-faced 30-year veteran of the business — tried to speak with me.

They’d pull out every tooth in my head. I was absolutely certain of this. Behold my mouth, a cathedral of neglect. Behold the ruination. Behold my lower front teeth — rotten, bleeding, crumbling brown things — tumbling onto my lips as the technician scraped that smooth wall of tartar with a fishhook.

But as the dentist spoke clearly and constructively, demonstrating his expertise and depth of knowledge, the feral thing inside me began to hush. There were no monsters here. And as the dentist commented confidently that the dental issues I described were common (did you know that most folks experience tartar buildup on their lower front teeth? it’s due to their proximity to several enthusiastic salivary glands), I realized there were no monsters inside my mouth either.

I did the math, made a leap of faith, and let go. Two hours later, my tongue could feel the individual contours of those bottom teeth again, finally. For me, this is nothing less than a miracle. The woman I love and a man I’d never met changed my life today. They helped me slay a secret, decades-old, scheming, slobbering personal fear.

There are a handful of manageable issues to deal with in the weeks ahead. It’s easy stuff. Maintenance will also be easy. My choppers are in surprisingly good shape. And if they weren’t — if the news had been much worse — I believe in my heart that I would have accepted and embraced this, and taken steps to make things right.

For in the end, I realized that my fears were absolutely real … but the monster fueling them wasn’t.

I share this story with you because I know that you too have a scheming, slobbering personal fear. There’s a beast prowling in the confines of your head that has dominated you and your actions for years. We all have at least one; I have several.

Perhaps you’re terrified to love someone. Or leave your shitty job, or shitty spouse. Or go to the doctor to diagnose that mysterious lump. Or start writing, singing, pursuing a passion or starting a business. The fear you’re feeling is legitimate, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. But the beast behind that fear may be a vapor, an engine powered by nothing more than decades of the worst kind of self-affirmation, and ignorance — a fundamental lack of understanding.

I don’t think you need to know the “why” to overcome this fear. I think you just need someone to believe in you: either a loved one, or yourself.

There are people in your life who believe in you. I believe in you. You can believe in you, too.

So come on, come with me. We’re going to the dentist.

–J.C.

I have the unbelievable privilege to report that I have received the highest honor that can be bestowed by my home state, the Commonwealth of Kentucky. I am now a Kentucky Colonel. Yes, I can in fact put “Col. J.C. Hutchins” on my business cards.

While you need not hail from the Bluegrass State to receive this supercool distinction (and true honor), I suspect most Kentuckians grow up hearing about the Colonels and maybe — in their secret hearts — quietly hope they might someday become a Colonel themselves. I certainly know I did. The title is an honorary one (it’s the best deal ever — it requires no duties, and carries no pay or compensation other than membership in the Honorable Order of Kentucky Colonels), but is absolutely awesome.

How did this come to pass? Thank Jack Staples (left), a fan of my fiction. Jack secretly nominated me for this honor, which apparently survived the vetting process and was presented to Governor Steve Beshear for consideration. (Only Colonels can nominate others for commission; Jack himself is a Colonel.) Today, I received a package containing an 11″x17″ certificate signed by Beshear and Secretary of State Trey Grayson. Also included was a hand-written note from Jack:

While no one can speak for the Governor as to why he writes a commission, I can tell you why I nominated you. It was for your selfless dedication to the people around you as you rose in the ranks of podcasting, as well as your contributions to the field of podcasting.

As I told Jack, I’m absolutely humbled that he believed anything I’ve done in the New Media space warranted such attention. The fact that this potboiler-writing (and pot-bellied!) wordherder was approved further stupefies me.

According to a document that accompanied the certificate, Kentucky Colonels are “Kentucky’s ambassadors of goodwill and fellowship around the world.” This is very cool, but it’s got me wondering: Does this mean I have to behave myself?

Unbelievably, I’m now in the company of Colonels such as Johnny Depp, Muhammed Ali, Elvis Presley, Winston Churchill, Whoopi Goldberg, Tiger Woods, Betty White, Babe Ruth and Pope John Paul II. I take greatest pleasure in knowing I have the same honorary Colonel-dom bestowed to Harland Sanders (the KFC colonel) and Tom Parker (“The Colonel,” Elvis Presley’s manager).

Personally, I’m hoping someone cooks up a fan-created “Novelist Version” of the Clue board game, if only so someone out there can someday say: “Colonel Hutchins in the Library with the Revolver!”

In all sincerity, I’m absolutely honored to be a Kentucky Colonel, and am especially grateful to Jack Staples for finding me worthy of nomination.

Call me Colonel,

–J.C.

There are few songs that fire me up like Republica’s US mix of “Ready To Go.” While the mid-90s tune is actually about a damaged romantic relationship, its pop-rock beat and chorus are an anthem for anyone craving to break free and take on the world:

Baby I’m ready to go … I’m back and ready to go … From the rooftops, shout it out. Shout it out. (Listen to the song here.)

Goodness, yes. A thousand hell yeses. From the rooftops, shout it out. With the new year here, are you ready to go? Ready to roll up your sleeves, put on a playful self-confident sneer, and get your hands dirty with some go?

I am. 2009 was an epic year. Personal Effects: Dark Art. 7th Son: Descent. Both on bookstore bookshelves, a dream come true. I conceived and personally executed several ambitious never-before-seen online promotions — Commit Yourself To The Brink, groundbreaking “vlurb” book trailers, multi-site cross-promotional projects (including a 10-chapter 7th Son excerpt distributed across more than 20 websites, and the recent “In the Nick of Time!” holiday sampler). More than 30 promotional blog guest posts. More than 70 podcast and radio interviews. Lots of first-evers and more-thans and many-mores.

I spent most of 2009 running on three or four hours of sleep each day. I went broke promoting the books. (This is not an exaggeration. Flat-ass, overdrawn-bank-account broke. My finances still haven’t recovered.) The result was stellar “Week One” debuts for both novels, followed by weeks of better-than-average sales. The publishing business is brutal and hyper-competitive, people. Standing out requires a lot of creative thought and effort (which I had) and money (which I didn’t, and wasn’t provided).

I also released two podcast-exclusive fiction projects in ’09, both prequels: Personal Effects: Sword of Blood, and 7th Son: 7 Days. Both were written in the midst of actively promoting the novels, and I’m pretty proud of how they turned out. This brings me to 2010.

I love the crazy-cool creative challenge of podcasting and promoting my stuff. For the past four years, I’ve lived to entertain you with my stories, and dazzle you with unconventional, fun promotions. I’ve made deliberate, informed decisions on how to spend my time, money and creative energy. Since 2006, most of my free time has been funneled into projects designed for you to consume and enjoy, for free.

Businesspeople talk about ROI: return on investment. I realized long ago that it would be impossible to receive an equitable ROI on the time, energy and monetary investment I’ve made in being an active creator in the social media space … so I stopped thinking about that. Instead, I bit into new media and social media with the same abandon I have when chomping into a nectarine — and you rewarded me with amazing feedback and unrivaled devotion, and helped make my lifelong dream of becoming a published novelist come true. My wallet may be a burnt cinder, but my soul lives in a palatial emotional mansion thanks to your generosity and kindness. I am forever grateful for that.

But baby, I’m ready to go.

Here are some not-so-secret secrets about most social media creators: We obsess about statistics. We keenly watch our blog subscriber numbers, our downloads, our website traffic, retweets and more. We crow about consistency, and how a steady output of content ensures the sustained interest of longtime readers (or listeners), and attracts newcomers. We relentlessly “feed the feed,” as I call it — we pipe out stuff of varying quality in our blog/podcast feeds to keep you coming back for more. Some of us do this successfully, and turn a profit. Some of us do this successfully, and don’t turn a profit. Still others feel beholden to these rules and produce content, even when they don’t want to. Burnout. A lack of perceived value from the audience. Real world obligations. It goes on.

I’ve been obsessing and red-lining it for so long, I’ve forgotten what a normal life feels like. I need to know what a normal life feels like. What eight hours of sleep feels like. What writing fiction feels like.

That last part — writing fiction — is critically important, peeps. This year, I felt my most alive when I was writing Sword of Blood and 7 Days, and brainstorming new projects. I took great pride in creating stories around my promotions (World War 7 is a recent fictional scenario that was a blast to concoct and execute), but when just it’s me and the page and the words … oh baby-baby, that’s the primo stuff. I live to tell tall tales, my friends. I’ve missed telling tall tales.

And so it’s time to go.

Time to roll up my sleeves, put on a playful self-confident sneer, and get my hands dirty with some go, that is. You didn’t think I was abandoning this site, and you, and several thousand other awesome peeps, didja? Heavens no. The party’s just getting started. I may not be the ever-present host I was in 2009 and years past, but I’ll certainly be here to entertain you in 2010.

There’s lots to give you. The Personal Effects: Dark Art serialized audiobook. My new podcast fiction project, The 33. I’ll still interview people who amaze me — the people I call UltraCreatives — and I’ll post written and podcast updates on my life, creative projects and other sundries. (I know most of you care less about my non-fiction content than my fiction. That’s okay. But these non-fiction projects are important to me, and I will continue to pursue them.)

So yes. Content shall abound in this blog/podcast feed in 2010. But I need to make something clear, in the kindest and most constructive way possible: this content will be released when my schedule permits. In addition to the Dark Art audiobook (which will debut by Spring 2010) and The 33 (which will debut not long after), I have other creative projects to pursue. There are movie treatments I owe my film agent — original story ideas we want to sell to Hollywood for big bucks. There are other novels to write, which I want to sell to publishers for big bucks. God willing, there will be 7th Son books Two and Three to edit for print release. And I want to pursue ways of telling stories you’ve never seen before; stuff that’s as wide-eyed and untested as a newborn.

Jeepers, all the stories. All the stories I need to tell.

If you choose to abandon my blog/podcast feed because I won’t be delivering free audio content on a weekly basis in 2010, I understand. I do hope, however, that you have an equal understanding and respect for my decision. Of course, I also hope you’ll stick around. There’s a great deal of fun and adventure in what I do … and you can’t beat the price with a stick.

2010 is my year of go. Go beyond podcasting, beyond 7th Son and Personal Effects, and Twitter and Facebook, and my always-shameless, sometimes-crass ass-shaking. It’s time to take down the megaphones. It’s time to start building more worlds. New worlds. Go worlds.

Wanna come along? Just take my hand. There’ll be weeks when I’m loud and sassy, and weeks when you may never hear a peep. But we’ll be running toward the horizon together, grinning at the sun. Running together, adventurers.

Come with me. Baby, I’m ready to go.

–J.C.

YOU.

A few months back, I told you about how one of my favorite musicians, bret — aka Blue Stahli — gets it.

Further evidence of the man’s cleverness, creativity and marketing savvy? The video posted below. Dig this: bret wanted to announce his remix contest in an interesting way (and, as he told me, “have an excuse to play with video stuff”). Behold what he created on a budget of $5, using an old jailbroken iPhone. He did all the editing, sound effects and musical score.

Truly badass stuff. Check it, and check the remix contest for his awesome song UltraNumb, which launches in mere days.

I’m honored and humbled by Publisher’s Weekly recent review of 7th Son: Descent, which will be in bookstores next month…

—

7th Son: Descent J.C. Hutchins. St. Martin’s Griffin, $14.99 paper (352p) ISBN 978-0-312-38437-1
Hutchins’s debut SF thriller, the first in a trilogy, has the unusual distinction of starting life as a popular podcast. The fast pace set from the beginning serves the story well in audio or print, especially considering that most of the characters are clones of the same man. They’re sent to find their “Alpha” after he rigs a proxy assassination of the president of the United States through stolen government technology capable of unleashing chaos everywhere. Hutchins successfully fleshes out each clone as a separate personality, from happy everyman John Smith to the priest who fears that, as a clone, he has no soul. Though there’s not a lot for the hard SF crowd, thriller readers seeking edge-of-your-seat action flavored with conspiracy and futuristic tech will love every page. (Nov.)

—

I’m proud of my little book, and am absolutely thrilled PW dug it, too. And let’s not forget why PW was able to review the novel in the first place: YOU.

For more than three years, you’ve cheered and challenged me creatively. I haven’t the words to fully express my gratitude for all the love and support you’ve shown me … but know that it is reciprocated a hundred-fold. You inspire me.

–J.C.

If you know me, you know I’m a hardcore Celldweller fan, and a great supporter of Celldweller mastermind Klayton’s work. For the past three years, I’ve used his killer music as the anthems for my podcasts, and I’ve talked him up something fierce, because I think he crafts music that is as brilliant as it is epic.

Klayton runs a company called FiXT, which helps independent artists (often fellow electronica musicians) distribute their music to the masses. One of these artists is Blue Stahli, who is a stellar talent himself. His AntiSleep Vol. 1 album is packed with aggressive and awesome instrumental music, stuff I live to write by. Highly recommended.

Today, I purchased Blue Stahli’s new single, ULTRAnumb … and I was absolutely delighted by the email I received after I clicked the “buy” button:

Hi, this is bret from Blue Stahli.  Just wanted to thank you for throwing down your hard earned coin on my brand-spankin’ new single ULTRAnumb.  i know there’s much cooler stuff you could be spending your money on, like a feeder monkey, bedazzled cowboy hat, tub of whipped cream and a lifetime supply of rope licorice (but not for eating, if you catch my drift), so it’s freakishly appreciated that you’re supporting some music that you dig.  More comin’ atcha soon…

This, of course, was an automated email — but it was an unexpected gesture, which I appreciated. When was the last time U2 thanked you for purchasing their most recent album? When was the last time James Patterson gave you a hat-tip for picking up the most recent Alex Cross novel? Did Joss Whedon zip you a grateful email when you snagged that copy of Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog?

Blue Stahli and the FiXT crew get it. This email exceeded my expectations, and — if only for a moment — piped me full of warm and fuzzies, because the artist himself wanted me to know that I made a tangible difference by supporting his work, and that he appreciated it. It was a step beyond the expected. That’s killer customer service, and it’s something a great many of us — myself included — could learn from.

What are you doing to exceed expectations, either in your art, business or personal life? How are you delighting the world by giving a little more than is required?

–J.C.

I recently had the great pleasure to appear on Victor Cajiao’s terrific program, the Typical Mac User Podcast, to chat about Personal Effects: Dark Art, new media, creativity, and how Apple products and software play mission-critical roles in my creative endeavors. Victor, TMUP contributor George Starcher and I had a blast.

Victor has generously provided me the audio from that interview, and I’m delighted to share it with you. I also heartily endorse Victor’s world-class show, and hope that you — regardless of if you’re an Apple fanboy or a hard-core PC user — check it out. And for the photographers in my audience, check out Victor’s stellar Typical Shutterbug Podcast, too!

–J.C.

 J.C. on the Typical Mac User podcast [33:00m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Last Tuesday, we had a helluva fun time watching Personal Effects: Dark Art ascend the sales charts during the day’s liveblog event. To make things even more fun, I gave away six signed copies of the book. I’ve processed more than 100 qualifying entries from that day, and am thrilled to announce the six winners:

• Michelle Wolverton
• Daniel Rodriguez
• Jeffrey Conolly
• Donna Phillips
• David Taylor
• Doug from Geek Acres

Thanks to the more than 100 folks who participated in last Tuesday’s giveaway! More ways to evangelize the novel (and score free books) are on the way…

–J.C.