Christopher Moore's Blog

Jeff from England writes with several questions:

1. How long is a piece of string? Ans: Yes

2. What’s that got to do with the price of eggs? Ans: the chicken

3. How come no one has invented windows that automatically close when it rains so that your bed sheets don’t get soaked? (not that I’m speaking from personal experience or anything ) Ans: Because they don’t care. They just don’t care. The bastards!

4. Why does everything suck? ANS:Everything doesn’t. Just 90% of everything. The ten percent that doesn’t is for contrast.

5. Have you ever seen the BBC tv series of THGTTG and if so, what did you think? ANS:Yes. I liked it. Especially the Vogons.

6. Ever seen The Life Aquatic? Ever get it?

ANS:Yes. No. _________________

DanaMichelle axes:

How do you get a twelve year old boy into a military boarding school without having to fork over fifty grand?

Ans: I don’t know anything about military school, but there’s an opening at Neverland Ranch and he can wear a Captain Eeo uniform and blow Bubbles, so it will be kind of military.

Think Insane writes:

Will we ever see Detective Rivera return to the written page?

ANS: I wrote an Inspector Rivera scene today. He has a pretty good part in A Dirty Job (the new one) and also in You Suck: A Love Story, the BS Fiends sequel that I’ll write next.

KatarinaNavane writes:

One more question–I get to go to Hawaii this summer (Kauai (sp?)) for two weeks in august and was inquiring…well in general. What do I have to look forward to? What can you tell me that a guidebook can’t (or won’t)?

ANS:August is the time to be in the water on the North Shore. It’s calm and clear and probably won’t kill you. Go snorkeling at Tunnels Beach. Take a catamaran trip to the Napali Coast. You’ll be forever grateful that you did. It’s amazingly beautiful both in and out of the water. Get The Ultimate Kauai Guide. It’s a blue book, about $14.00, and has every beach, restaurant, and activity on the island. The guy is a little cautious about how dangerous the beaches are, but he has to be, he doesn’t know when you are going to be in the water. In August, it’s small surf, clear water — good for diving and boating activities. Still, be careful. We kill a handful of Mid-westerners every year who get off the plane, run to the water, and drown or get dashed to death on the rocks. There are no velvet ropes to keep you from getting into trouble. If there’s no one in the water, there just might be a reason. Be very respectful of any area where surf meets rocks. That’s where we usually lose people.

Catch42 writes:

Hey Author Guy, How’s the new book coming along? Can you share any little tidbits with us, your devoted fans? I hope it’s not all “TOP SECRET”! I know that it’s supposed to be about DEATH, but other than that…nada. [In my best Dr. Evil voice…’ target=’_blank’> “So can ya throw us a friggin’ bone, here?” I’m frothing at the mouth with anticipation!

Ans: Here’s a scene, not that funny, but I think you guys who know my books might like it:

That evening Charlie was watching the store, wondering why he had lied to his employees, when he saw a flash of red passing by the front window. A second later, a strikingly pale redhead came through the door. She was wearing a short, black cocktail dress and black come-fuck-me pumps. She strode up the aisle like she was auditioning for a music video . Her hair cascaded in long curls around her shoulders and down her back like a great auburn veil. Her eyes were emerald green, and when she saw him looking, she smiled, and stopped, some ten feet away. Charlie felt an almost painful jolt that seemed to emanate somewhere in the area of his groin, and he after a second he recognized it as an autonomic lust response. He hadn’t felt anything like that since Rachel had passed, and he felt vaguely ashamed. She was examining him, looking him over like you would examine a used car. He was sure he must be blushing. “Hi,” Charlie said. “Can I help you.” The redhead smiled again, just a little, and reached into a small black bag that he hadn’t noticed she’d been carrying before. “I found this,” she said, holding up a silver cigarette case. Something you didn’t see very often any more. It was glowing, pulsating like the objects in the back room. “I was in the neighborhood and something made me think that this belonged here.” She moved to the counter opposite Charlie and set the cigarette case down in front of him. Charlie could barely move. He stared at her, not even conscious that to avoid her eyes he was staring at her cleavage, and she appeared to be looking around his head and shoulders as if following the path of insects that were buzzing him. “Touch me,” she said. “Huh?” He looked up, saw she was serious. She held out her hand, her nails were manicured and painted the same deep red as her lipstick. He took her hand. As soon as she touched him she pulled away. “You’re warm.” “Thanks.” In that moment he realized that she wasn’t. Her fingers had been ice cold. “Then you’re not one of us?” The tried to think of what “us” might be? Irish? Low blood pressure? Nymphomaniac? Why did he even think that. “Us? What do you mean, us?” She backed away a step. “No. You don’t just take the weak and the sick, do you? You take anyone.” “Take? What do you mean, take?” “You don’t even know, do you?” “Know what?” Charlie was getting very nervous. As a Beta male it was difficult enough to function under the attention of a beautiful woman, but she was just being spooky. “Wait. Can you see this thing glowing?” He held the cigarette case. “No glow. It just felt like it belonged here” She said. “What’s your name?” “Charlie Asher. This is Asher’s.” “Well Charlie, you seem like a nice guy, and I don’t know exactly what you are, and it doesn’t seem like you know. You don’t do you?” “I’ve been going through some changes,” Charlie said, wondering why he felt compelled to share this at all. The redhead nodded, as if confirming something to herself. “Okay. I know what it’s like to, uh, to find yourself thrown into a situation where forces beyond your control are changing you into someone, something you don’t have an owners manual for. I understand what it is to not know. But someone, somewhere, does know. Someone can tell you what’s going on. “What are you talking about?” But he knew what she was talking about. What he didn’t know was how she could possibly know. “You make people die, don’t you Charlie?” She said it like she had worked up the courage to tell him that he had some spinach in his teeth. More of a service to him, than an accusation. “How do you –?” How did she— “Because it’s what I do. Not like you, but it’s what I do. Find them, Charlie. Backtrack and find whoever was there when your world changed.” Charlie looked at her, then at the cigarette case, then at the redhead again, who was no longer smiling, but was stepping backward toward the door. Trying to touch normal, he focused on the cigarette case and said, “I suppose I can do an appraisal—“ He heard the bell over the door ring and when he looked up she was gone. He didn’t see her moving by the windows on either side of the door, she was just gone. He ran to the front of the store and out the door onto the sidewalk. The Mason St. cable car was just topping the hill up by California street and he could hear the bell, there was a thin fog coming up from the bay that threw colorful halos around the neon signs of the other businesses, but there was no striking redhead on the street. He went to the corner and looked down Vallejo, but again no redhead, just the Emperor, sitting against the building with his dogs. “Good evening, Charlie.” “Your Majesty, did you see a redhead go by here just now?” “Oh yes. Spoke to her. I’m not sure you have a chance there, Charlie, I believe she’s spoken for. And she did warn me to stay away from you.” “Why? Did she say why?” “She said that you were Death.” “I am?” Charlie said. “Am I?” His breath caught in his throat as the day played back in his head. “What if I am?” “You know, son,” the Emperor said, “I am not an expert in dealing with the fairer sex, but you might want to save that bit of information until the third date or so, after they’ve gotten to know you a little.“