Answer the Question!

2 : to cooperate with or willingly assist an enemy of one’s country and esp. an occupying force

3:  to ask or be asked to work with other human beings, thereby being exposed to their annoying quirks, facial expressions, and inabilities to express themselves in a way easily understandable to even the most superior human who possesses an abundance of wit, charm and great personal beauty, not to mention attractive tits

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Tou·rette’s syndrome \tụ-’rets-\ n [Georges Gille de la Tourette †1904 Fr. physician] (1970)

1. : a familial neurological disorder of variable expression that is characterized by recurrent involuntary tics involving body movements (as eye blinks or grimaces) and vocalizations (as grunts or utterance of inappropriate words

2:  A sub-familial neurological disorder that is characterized by excessive use of inappropriate words, triggered by writing a book with a Captain Morgan-swilling email ignorer 

When Greg Crites told me he had a great title for a zombie book, I urged him to write it.  He asked for my help.  Being a chickenshit of the highest order – Dame Commander of the Order of the Cackling Poop – I almost refused.  How could my words appear on the pages of a book written by a storyteller I consider the embodiment of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Dan Jenkins and Hunter S. Thompson?  A man whose intelligence intimidates me to the point that I take and cheat on Internet IQ tests in an effort to salvage my self-esteem?  A writer who can crank out a novel in six weeks?  When it comes to fiction, I take that long to write a single sentence. 

But I reached deep down (crotch level) and pulled out a pair of balls. They probably belonged to a twin I must have consumed in the womb because I don’t like to share or play nice.  I agreed to collaborate with Greg on Global Swarming.  (See here and here.) 

Today he sent me this photo of him holding up the book.  Does anyone else think he looks like a zombie?  An attractive zombie in the early stages of rot.   An amusing zombie.  One who might cause you to die laughing.

I’ll get back to Greg in a moment, but before I do I’d like to mention the others who contributed to the book and are deserving of my gratitude.

Even though Moses is terrified of zombies and will probably never read the book, he suggested one of my most memorable characters.

I wish a zombie would eat the squirrel brain of the asshole who did this to me.

Ryan and Brooke Batley designed the cover, which I happen to love.  It’s Ryan’s concept and Brooke painted it.  At the same time I asked them to come up with a cover that wouldn’t make me puke, I also asked Ryan if he would direct a zombie book trailer.  Ryan’s a writer, actor and director and after reading Greg’s book Crusade, he agreed.  Brooke and Ryan now worship the keyboard Greg types on, and constantly blather on and on and on about Greg’s genius, which I find boring.  I nod in agreement and think of names for replacement kittens in case any of my cats get stuck in the garbage disposal.

I nagged them until they ended up pulling a couple of all-nighters to get the trailer done in time for the audio book release.  It’s posted on YouTube and I also posted it on a site for audio book trailers.  The guy from that site – who sees hundreds of them – loved it.  I intend to give Ryan and Brooke a copy of the book, which should be ample compensation for days of work and out-of-pocket expenses.  Thanks to Chris Valentine and Cheryl Adams for their stellar performances in the trailer.  Mere stellar performances do not rate a free copy of the book.

My boyfriend (for lack of a better word) has admirably performed (his words) research and computer work relating to Global Swarming.  The other night I helped him set up a new YouTube page which includes Greg reading the introduction and the first chapter of the book.  “Helping” Richard work on a video had the same effect on my ego as being the token member of AARP in a wet t-shirt contest where the rest of the contestants are in their early twenties. The judges exchange looks of incredulity and scorn as their eyes travel way down south to locate my tits.  Richard gets the same look on his face when I ask a perfectly reasonable computer-type question about byte-thingies.  It would have been ungracious to grab the nearest blunt object or cat and beat him about the head and shoulders.  Instead I thanked him.  See?  See how wonderful I am?

Now back to the subject at hand.  Greg sent me an outline of the first ten chapters, describing his characters and the plot.  He named my main character Lily and said, “You’re on your own.” 

I didn’t even come close to panicking until I realized my part of the plot involved Lily having no sidekicks.  I do dialogue, not action.  Not descriptions of surroundings.  I’m NOT a novelist.  Okay, so I began to panic.  Once again I reached deep within and pulled out…oh, never mind.

I managed to keep up with Greg because he would disappear for so long I assumed he must be dead.  I’d get all motherly and worry, even though I’m half his age with a smoking hot body, and he’s a broken-down old journalist.  Oh, shit!  I just remembered people who know me will be reading this.  Not to mention my earlier reference to AARP. 

Actually, working with Greg is not only a genuine pleasure and honor, but fun!  My only complaint is his avoidance of my questions.  We’ve never met or spoken on the phone.  With the exception of the night our characters finally got together near the end, the entire book was written by exchanging emails.  That night we chatted on AIM and would alternate writing scenes.  This lasted until Greg’s typing turned into unintelligible typos.  His claim to be drinking beer instead of rum seemed suspect.  Unless it was all the beer.  In the world.  I was drinking coffee so my typing was pristine.

Yesterday I checked my Yahoo mailbox and discovered 108 emails from me with some variation of the phrase ANSWER THE QUESTION.  They started out with me including the word ‘please’ and degenerated into shrill demands of ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION!!!  There were only 42 responses from Greg, for the most part covering other topics.  He rarely answered the question.  I have to assume his annoying lack of response to my legitimate questions is his way of flirting with me.

Greg is funnier than releasing a bag of squirrels at the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show at the exact moment an overweight judge in an evening gown is lifting the tail of the giant gay poodle to peer intently up its asshole.  I’ve always laughed out loud at his writing.  This image demonstrates the level of hilarity it’s possible to achieve while reading it.

I also love listening to him read his books.  He has a pirate’s voice, which is funny even if what he’s reading is serious.  While Richard and I worked on the YouTube page, I discovered something else about Greg Crites. 

Using a movie-making program, Richard played the introduction to the book several times.  There are times when that pirate voice of Greg’s oozes manly sexiness.  (Not oozes like a zombie after it’s been dead for several days.  That would be gross.)  I mentioned this to Richard and while he cooked dinner for me, I wondered why he heated up the gravy in two pots. After dinner he kept asking how I felt.  Later that night I dreamed my pillow turned into a zombie and tried to smother me before it ate my brains.  Writers!  We have such imaginations, don’t we?

I hope Greg Crites has a big enough imagination to realize how grateful I am to him for the opportunity to not only collaborate with him on Global Swarming, but to claim him as a good friend.  The  pesky restraining order he has against me expires next month.

I have to go.  Richard is preparing dinner.  Tonight he’s wearing industrial strength rubber gloves and a gas mask.