[via email]
WRITER: Dear Rey. I really like [BAND] and want to interview them. What do I need to do?
ME: Dear [WRITER]. That's great you like [BAND]. I think this is one of their best records (and I say that as a fan, not a publicist). Can you tell me what publication you write for? Thanks!
W: Dear Rey. I don't write for a publication actually. I write fanfiction. My subjects are usually mainstream pop celebrities who I place in futuristic and sometimes whimsical environments and I imagine how they'd reacts to their surroundings. But before I can really get into the characters' minds, I need to talk with them. For [LEAD SINGER], I am envisioning a pheromone-enriched world of heavy carnal situations, in which anything is fair game... all done tastefully, of course. Do you think [LEAD SINGER] would be interested in this? I work with an artist to craft imagery that is pertinent to the story at hand.
M: So... wait. You want to place [LEAD SINGER] in an alien world so he can be totally horned up and fuck everything in sight?
W: If you want to put it into crude and crass verbiage, yes. But it will be tastefully done, of course. When can I talk to [LEAD SINGER].
M: So... wait, let me get this straight first... So [LEAD SINGER] is going to be walking around in this hormone-scented landscape and he happens to stumble on, say, a venus flytrap and say, "Hmmm... Let me see what it'd be like if I put my kibbles right there." And then your friend is going to DRAW it?
W: I'm sorry I asked. It's obvious you're not mature enough to deal with this kind of subject matter.
M: It's not really a question of maturity... It's more a question of why would I want to envision [LEAD SINGER] stick his laprocket into a vegetative ham wallet. I'm all for creativity and stuff, but, man... that's just, I dunno, man.
W: Forget I asked.
M: I can't... I now have anime images of [BAND] in an H.R. Giger-meets-Little Shop of Horrors world and I can't shake it.
W: EXACTLY! You DO get it!
M: I meant that sarcastically.
