Can We Talk?

Although I've given some interviews of late, I've decided I don't want to talk anymore. Enough talk. I'm ready to focus more energy on writing again. That's what writers do. Write. Produce.

Still, in the event that some of my interviewers want to get down to the nitty-gritty of me, or perhaps want to ask those controversial questions, here's where I stand on the big debates. I'll go ahead and ask the questions and offer the answers myself.

So, Mr. Alleycat, do you drink fair trade coffee, or do you buy sweat shop beans produced by indigenous populations who are enslaved to brewing your drug of choice?

Let me set the record straight, I do drink coffee (though I don't always savor it . . . sometimes I just get a sense of it and spit it out . . . does this count as a "taste"?). As for the trade debate, I've never traded for coffee. I usually buy it (or I send me son into the store with instructions to steal it). I would, however, be willing to trade the following for a pound of french roasted: two yellow-page directories, four socks that don't have mates, two cans of cat food that our feline won't touch (both contain free trade horse-meat, I think).

Okay, Mr. Alleycat, enough about coffee. Isn't it true you plagiarize most of your work, borrowing material from good writers to make yourself look like you can actually write?

I for one am glad to set the record straight about that bathroom material I borrowed back in 1982. Yes, I did copy material from a third floor bathroom stall at the ISU library, but I thought this was a classic and was public domain. I mean, wouldn't you assume that anything written on a bathroom wall was public? I saw no copyright. As for my other material . . . Heck, there are people stealing off of me! In fact, there are two people trying to steal my name. I'm just relieved they can't consistently spell it correctly.

You think you're so freakin' important don't you?

Absolutely not! Now way! Well . . . okay. Yes. Heck, I don't know.

What keeps you humble?

Oh, my, lots of things. Writing this blog. Attempting to have sex with my wife. Rejection. The natural ageing process. Depressing book sales. Jelly beans. Scalding my upper lip with coffee. Abject failure. Cold toilet seats.

So, what do you hope to write next?

Anything I can sell. And I've also got this idea for a book about a world where dogs rule and people are kept on leashes and fed food out of cans. The humans are ruled by the dogs and are only let out of the house twice a day to use the potty. I'm a bit fuzzy on the title . . . but I'm leaning toward Planet of the Dogs. I can see it as a series . . . you know, Beyond the Planet of the Dogs, Beneath the Planet of the Dogs . . . and finally, Going to the Dogs. I think it could be a huge seller.