What would you do if, one morning, you awoke naked with an egg between your legs? Let me rephrase that… What would you do if that happened, again? (We hate it when it happens.) Caris O’Malley wondered just that, and then he did what thousands of others have only attempted to do. He spent the better part of a November writing a novel about it. And when professional editors with actual talent read this manuscript and honed it down to the lean piece of fiction it is today, a star was born.
That star was, of course, Kevin Donihe. But in an act of selflessness rarely witnessed in today’s entertainment world, Donihe took no credit for repairing that damaged mess of a story about a man and his egg. Instead, he allowed the name O’Malley to appear across the front cover. The rest, they say, is history. We don’t know why they continue to say that, but they do. We hate they for it. And as we’re wont to do here on the 2-Minute Drill, today we shall try to expose the true Caris O’Malley, in all his flaws and failings. Hopefully, the Internet doesn’t run out of room.
The 2-Minute Drill is 5 quick questions and 5 quick answers from someone you probably haven’t heard of, but should hear from. This isn’t some rambling, long-winded author interview here. We dispense with the pleasantries and get down to brass tacks. We ask the tough questions and get the tough answers that you need to know. And if not, we’ll just make them up.
Click the Egg, buy the Egg.
The Drill returns with the third installment of our interviews with New Bizarro Author Series authors. Mr. O’Malley’s fantastic little book called The Egg Said Nothing (click here for our review of it) is the story of Manny, a shut-in who wakes up one morning to discover he has laid an egg. Then he falls in love, battles future versions of himself, and… well, we’ll leave the rest for you to discover when you read the book. For now, let’s just pester young Caris with our stupidity.
2-MD: Hypothetically speaking, if the Egg actually did say something (and I’m betting dollars to donuts it did), what would It say?
CO’M: When you’re the only egg in a roomful of assholes, the only thing you want to do is leave. I imagine the egg would scream and plead to be taken somewhere else. It’d be kind of like the dragon eggs in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, where it would just be annoying and hurt everyone’s ears. Kind of like you, Steve. (2-MD: Starting with a shot across the bow, eh? Looks like we’ll have to step it up a notch…)
2-MD: Hypodermically speaking, what are the best (worst?) fluids that have ever entered your body intravenously?
CO’M: Well, shit. I got bit by a ferret once. Does that count? Yes, I’d say ferret spit. It was much better than all of that dirty heroin I did as a youngster.
2-MD: Hypochondriacally speaking, have you always been such a germophobe, or was it just when you were around us? (We didn’t appreciate your request to “double-bag it” by the way.)
CO’M: In my home environment, I wallow in filth and share drinks with the homeless. But, for the first time in my life, the bizarro crowd made me start to think of the dangers inherent in such behavior. Y’all seem like the kind of folks a body could catch somethin’ from.
2-MD: Hypoallergenically speaking, if we actually laid an Egg from betwixt out loinses, what sorts of infections might we be infectioned with? And part deux of this query, would the Sacred Thor help cleanse us, or simply exacerbate our conundrum?
CO’M: I think sepsis could be a serious issue. Since gentlemen aren’t really built with the equipment to lay eggs, we’ve got to use what the Good Lord gave us- our assholes. It seems to me that expelling something as significant as an egg would come with a certain amount of tearing and would, by the fault of the Lord, expose us to a tremendous amount of bacteria. It would, I think, be virtually impossible to keep the area properly cleaned without round-the-clock care and, honestly, who has time for that? There is hope, though. I feel confident that the Thor, in its infinite wisdom, would help in two significant ways.
1) Stretching out the area in question for more comfortable egg laying.
2) Acting as a cork of sorts to keep harmful bacteria at bay until we’re ready to deal with it.
Not the Sacred Thor.
2-MD: Enough with this hypononsense! How about a real question: How many times did your main character, Manny, kill himself in “The Egg Said Nothing”?
CO’M: Six, I think. Of course, there’s that whole time loop to contend with, so he’s probably killing himself right now. On a related note, there is a point where, as a writer, you grow to hate your characters, their stupid motivations, and their whiny inner dialogues. The only solution I have found to deal with that is to kill the character, resurrect him, then kill him again. In my original draft, there was actually a chapter where I, Caris “The Shit” O’Malley, made a guest appearance and killed Manny no less than fifteen times. (2-MD: Author, slay thy self. No really, we’ve had several requests from loyal readers that you do this.)
2-MD: Congratulations, Caris “Is Shit” O’Malley, with that answer, you have unlocked the SUPER FANTASTIC EXTRA SPECIAL BONUS QUESTION!!! Here it is: On a scale of Red to Purple, what was the name of the clown that scarred you in this terrible way so, so long ago. (Please show your work, or you’ll only get half credit.)
Like everyone else on the planet, it was Pennywise from Stephen King’s It
. That clown scared the shit out of me when I was a child. Just the idea of losing my paper boat AND getting killed to death in the depths of a sewer was just too much for me. While writing Clownhunter
, I had a picture of that bastard on my computer desktop to remind me of what I was dealing with.
So that’s magenta, I think. (2-MD: Wrong! The answer we were looking for was 19. They must not teach librarians how to divide.)