As most of you know by now, I am a fan of Adam Selzer. Love the wit, humour and what I see as fearless writing that drives his books.
What is the writing process like for you, especially when it comes to finding the voice of your novels, something you are pretty darn good at! (Note: I PUT A SPELL ON YOU-multiple points of view, each voice rings different and true).
How did go about aging Jennifer for EXTRAORDINARY? Can we expect to see more of her?
Pretty cool on having two books come out at the same time. (SPARKS & EXTRAORDINARY). How did that come about?
I got my start as a smart aleck in algebra class, way back in 8th grade. My friend Tanner and I were sort of the Back Row Hooligans of the class. Rather than learning anything, we just sat at our table cracking jokes. Making up jokes about algebra was tricky business, so we really had to stretch our brains to come up with anything funny. When we ran out of material, we'd write goofy songs about slushees and beating people up (which we couldn't have actually DONE on the best day of our lives). We still record (under the name Scapegoat 95) when we're in the same city.
But I didn't really get into much intensive training as a smart ass until high school, when I moved down to a redneck town in Georgia and started working in restaurants. The customers not only seemed to be begging for someone to make fun of them - they deserved it.
When someone asks to be moved to your section, because he doesn't want a black waitress, you can't just let that pass. You can't ARGUE with guys like that, and you certainly can't talk any sense into them, but you CAN make them feel stupid. In fact, you MUST. Some people still think it's actually socially acceptable to make a request like that in a restaurant, and you have to make it clear that times have passed them by. "The Times They Are a-Changing" was already more than 30 years old by then - they'd had plenty of time to adjust. My favorite trick with those guys was to say "ooh, you're a racist? Oh, far out! Say something all prejudiced and everything." Then I'd laugh and loudly ask if everyone else got a load of the hillbilly.
When someone asks you to be a dear and bring the 8 year old birthday boy's present (a high powered rifle) out for him, you can't just slip into a career as a gun runner without making some snarky remark to save face.
The high point, the real baptism by fire, came when I was working at a Starbucks in Duluth, an Atlanta suburb where only about half our customers spoke English, in 2001. After 9/11, word got around that the guy who steered the plane into the south tower was a regular customer of ours, and we started to get a lot of vigilantes in the store. One guy, who I'm pretty sure thought he was Batman, lamented that he'd seen the guy and his partner at IHOP with airplane blueprints. "And I let them slip through my fingers!" he wailed. He was genuinely upset and coping with what seemed like a real feeling that he'd failed, so I didn't say anything, but it was hard not to. What would he have done? Called the FBI and said he saw a couple of brown-skinned guys who looked like they were into airplanes? Any time other than those heady days right after the attack, you would have just assumed they were pilots or engineers. Really, that should ALWAYS be what you assume when you see a guy with airplane blueprints, isn't it?
My proudest moment of that period - indeed, the proudest moment of my career as a smart ass - came when a guy strolled into the store and complained that there were a bunch of Arabs sitting at the table outside of the store.
"You've got a bunch of terrorists on your porch," he said. "I'm gonna go get their driver's licenses so when they blow up a building, I can sell my story to CNN."
I knew most of those guys on the porch. I'd sit with them on my breaks and chat. I wasn't going to let this guy get away with calling them terrorists.
"We're not profiling against Arabs here," I said. "But we ARE profiling against idiots. So you'll have to leave."
My manager backed me on this one. He was a cool cat, that manager. Most of them would have fired me. I would have been proud to be fired for that one, though.
I spent a few more years honing my skills - there's probably no better place to develop smart aleck techniques than working in customer service. You don't always get to say what's on your mind out loud (unless you're a sassy waitress in a sitcom), but your brain is always working.
