Author Q&A with Dean Koontz

June 22, 2006

First: In the e-mails you leave for me at the e-mail address given above, I'm being asked to send signed photos, books for charity auctions, and old socks for Old Sock Festivals. I'm happy to do all of that, but I must have a mailing address. Because of the popularity of "Author Q&A," I can't respond to every e-mail and seek addresses where needed. If you're asking for something that has to be sent by snail-mail, either leave an address where the snail can find you, or write to me at the post office box listed below:

Dean Koontz
PO Box 9529
Newport Beach, California 92658

 

Question #1

I have friends who eat at a restaurant where you and your wife go. They say you take your dog. Is that true? They say you wear Hawaiian shirts? Is that true, too?––Kelly, Arizona

Well, now you've blown our cover, Kelly. The owner of the restaurant and the waiters had no idea that Trixie was a dog. We dressed her nicely, put sunglasses on her, and everyone thought she was an unfortunate teenage girl in need of a depilatory cream. Yes, we often eat at restaurants where dogs are allowed on the patio. Trixie is so well behaved that many people don't even realize she's there until we get up to leave. She never barks; she never begs. She receives one chicken breast, grilled plain. She sits up to eat it, piece by piece, has a drink of water, then lies down and observes surrounding humanity, which she finds endlessly amusing. And yes, I'm fond of Reyn Spooner shirts, which are not as flamboyant as some Hawaiian shirts, classic. But I'm not sure why your friends find the Hawaiian shirts newsworthy. I would think they would be more surprised by my elaborate feathered hats and the necklace of live reptiles.

Question #2

I saw you in a bookstore in California. You bought three books. None of them looked interesting. I wanted to say hello, but I was afraid. I don't know why. What would you have done if I had said hello?––Laura, Nevada

Laura is one of my favorite names. I love the sound of it. I would have bitten your head off, Laura, sucked the fluid out of your spine, snacked on your brains, and ransacked your purse for breath mints. Nothing personal. That's merely a consequence of having absorbed into my DNA some preying-mantis genes during a laboratory mishap. The search for breath mints has nothing to do with mantis genes. I'm sensitive to the social irresponsibility of unchecked halitosis. In truth, everyone here in Koontzland laughs at the thought that anybody would find me too fearsome to approach. Winnie the Pooh has a scarier frown than I do.

Question #3

VELOCITY rocks! I've never read anything that moved this fast. But what's with the birds? There are birds all through the book. Why all the birds?––Andrea, Wisconsin

Birds inspire more pleasant images than do fat slimy slugs. I could have threaded through the book metaphors and similes filled with fat slimy slugs, but it might have gotten to be off-putting except to those readers with an abiding affection for slimy slugs. Actually, Andrea, this is the kind of detail that a writer is wise not to talk about too much. You do not need to know why all the birds are there in order to enjoy the story. The birds are there in part to create a mood, so for that purpose they in part affect the reader on a conscious level. But they are there for several other reasons, all of which are meant to affect the reader in a particular way on a subconscious level. Let's just say that one of those reasons is related to the fact that birds represent the ultimate freedom of movement, the freedom of flight, and Billy Wiles, the lead of the novel, is a man living in a cage of his own construction when the novel opens––and has freed himself by the end. Now I retreat into mystery. Do not ask the magician to show you where the missing quarter really went; you won't enjoy the sleight of hand as much when you know the mechanics of it.

Question #4

I'm a beginning writer. I participate in a writers' group. Everyone in the group outlines their novels, but I hate to outline. Is outlining really essential? ––M, Oregon

The only things that are essential are talent, a willingness to work hard, an ability to criticize your own prose but not with such intensity that you develop writer's block, and a sapphire eye stolen from a stone-temple god. Some successful writers outline, but some do not. In my case, I stopped outlining when I wrote STRANGERS––which turned out to be the first book of mine to become a hardcover bestseller. Because character drives fiction for me, I have to let the main characters develop their unique voices, whereupon they begin to take the story places I would never have imagined in an outline.

Question #5

If you could have been any important figure in history, especially someone who changed the world, who would you have been? This is a class project. I would have been Sherlock Holmes because he was cool, he was CSI before CSI––Tim, Illinois

That's an interesting school you attend, Tim. I assume others in your class want to be Tarzan, Superman, and the Cat in the Hat. In the spirit of your project, I would like to have been Pegasus the winged horse, not least of all so I could fly over politicians at their rallies and bombard them with road apples.

Question #6

You and Gerda have been married for a long time. How did you meet?––Charles, Kentucky

We were high-school sweethearts. The first time I asked her out, I was a senior and she was a junior. She said she had to work at the dry cleaner's that night. I was a shy kid. I never asked a girl out twice. The exception was Gerda. I asked her out again, and she said she had to work at the movie theater that night. I thought she'd forgotten the lie she told me the first time. Nevertheless, I asked her out a third time. She said, "I can't. I have to babysit that night." I went home, looked in the mirror, and thought, No wonder she won't date me. I look like a walking malignant wart. In fact I didn't look like a malignant wart, but my ego had suffered major damage. (I learned later that Gerda actually worked three part-time jobs and was telling me the truth.) I schemed to ask her out a fourth time. She was president of the junior class, so I figured she would have to go to the junior-class dance. I bided my time, asked her to the dance, and she said, "Oh, I can't. I'm busy that night." In a thin voice that sounded like that of a talking malignant wart, I protested that surely she, being the class president, had to go to the dance. She said, "Yes, I'm going. But first I'll be selling tickets at the door. Then I have to take a turn operating the record player––we called them "record players" in those days, when albums were recorded on vinyl discs and everyone had a wooly mammoth in the backyard––and then I have to take a turn selling refreshments, and then I have to clean up the gym." (In our small town, school dances were held in the gymnasium. Gym classes were conducted in the wood shop. Wood-shop classes were taught in the cafeteria. Lunch was served by the principal, who threw food from the roof to assembled students standing below, faces upturned and mouths open like so many spellbound turkeys. This was an extremely dysfunctional small town.) Anyway, I told Gerda that I'd be happy to sell tickets, run the record player, sell refreshments, and clean up the gym with her. That was our first date. She says that she laughed so much on our date that her stomach was sore the next day. I think she means I was witty––but then I look in the mirror and wonder.

Question #7

What was the original title of FEAR NOTHING. I think I know.––Roseanne, Indiana

I think you know, too. The original title of FEAR NOTHING was FEAR NOTHING. In my days at Putnam's, I lost several battles over titles. WATCHERS was originally THE GUARDIAN. STRANGERS went through a slew of titles, most of which I thought more memorable than STRANGERS. LIGHTNING was originally LIGHTNING ROAD. I offered a lot of titles for MIDNIGHT, too, including MIDNIGHT MUSIC, but the publisher's operative theory at the time was that my first paperback bestseller, WHISPERS, had a one-word title; therefore, every book I ever wrote for the rest of my life would have to have a one-word title in order to be a bestseller. One-word titles, I was told, are dramatic and memorable; one-word titles, I was told, are always better than longer titles, which don't resonate. Like, I suppose, such flops as GONE WITH THE WIND, TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD, and THE CATCHER IN THE RYE, which should have been titled WAR, BIGOTRY, and ADOLESCENCE. If one-word titles are invariably better than longer titles, why haven't we seen novels titled VOMIT, MUCUS, PIMPLE, and PHLEGM? Since coming to Bantam, where my first book was FEAR NOTHING, I have never had a single argument about a title.

Question #8

In the Road Runner Cartoons, who do you cheer for, the Road Runner or Wile E. Coyote? Why? I believe the answers to these two questions can tell us a lot about a person's character and view of life.––Graham, Massachusetts

Cheering for the coyote is like betting everything you own on the proposition that Elvis is not dead and will show up Monday as the anchor of the CBS Evening News. You have noticed––haven't you, Graham, that Wile E. never wins? If I cheered on Wile E., I'd probably also watch OLD YELLER once every week, hoping that this time the dog wouldn't get rabies. Cheering the Road Runner seems pointless, since he always wins. Besides, unfortunately, I own stock in Acme, the company whose gadgets are always shown to fail the coyote, so in the interest of saving something of my retirement fund, I'd like to see one of those rocket-propelled boulders really cream the bird.

Question #9

Do you have any tattoos?––Karen, Florida

I was born without a navel, and as a gift to myself, I had one tattooed on my tummy.

Question #10

We live in a remote part of Alaska. People fly in here for fresh-water fishing vacations. Sometimes bears come right up on the back porch and look in the windows. Would you ever come here on a fishing vacation––Bill, Alaska

No.

Next Installment Coming Soon!