ME: I got a book deal!

COMMANDER: Out­standing! We’re proud of you!

ME: I’m moving to New York City!

COMMANDER: I know that’s where your heart was calling you, Lieu­tenant, glad to see you’re making it happen.

ME: I’m get­ting rid of my car!

COMMANDER: I applaud your sense of fiscal and envi­ron­mental responsibility.

ME: So, you’re going to transfer my billet to Sector New York, right?

COMMANDER: Absolutely not. You’re an officer. Find a way to get your ass down here until your tour is up and you’re due to rotate.

I’m kid­ding, of course. They’re *trying* to help me make a transfer, but this is the thing when you take the king’s silver — you serve the king’s will. A mil­i­tary com­mit­ment means that you bend to the needs of the ser­vice. It’s a valu­able lesson — it reminds you daily that there are sys­tems and insti­tu­tions in life that aren’t built around your needs and that you have to be able to accom­mo­date others even when it’s incon­ve­nient (or even painful) for you. It keeps you humble and adapt­able and is one of the many gains I get from serving.

So, bottom line is that I’m off to stand my watch far from home. I’ll be gone for a while, which means a dropoff in my social media activity and pos­sibly my ability to update here. It may even mean a pause in my progress on FORTRESS FRONTIER (I fin­ished a first draft a few days ago, and am now about to tuck into the rewriting/revising process).

But that’s as it should be. Ron Collins once told me that writers have to live life like they’re hunting it, and the expe­ri­ences I have while standing behind the shield are the building blocks of a com­pelling nar­ra­tive. It’s tough to be a good writer when you lead a boring life, and I can think of few things more inter­esting than kicking down hatches and searching for drugs, guns and the vic­tims of human trafficking.

We each have one ass to risk.

Mil­i­tary ser­vice also gives me that elec­tric jolt of real vol­un­teerism. I under­stand that increasing aware­ness and donating money and marching and chanting are all part of the machine that churns to right the world. But there’s a vis­ceral punch you get from knowing that you’re using your own ass as col­lat­eral in an effort to make the world a better place. Nobody wants to get hurt in the line of duty. But we’re willing to, if that’s what it takes. I would never turn my nose up at paci­fist activists, but armed ser­vice is what I have to do to feel like I’m making a difference.

So, my brothers, my sis­ters, my best-beloved. I have the watch. No harm will come to you while I stand it. My life on it.