Lucas Klauss

Look, I’m not saying you have to think my book is “thoughtful” and “often...

Wed, 22 Feb 2012 12:46:29 -0500

Look, I’m not saying you *have* to think my book is “thoughtful” and “often witty” or that it features many “well-drawn” relationships. I’m just saying that’s what the professional book reviewers at Publisher’s Weekly think.

In an effort to further promote Everything You Need to Survive the Apocalypse, my debut young adult...

Tue, 21 Feb 2012 09:50:56 -0500

In an effort to further promote Everything You Need to Survive the Apocalypse, my debut young adult novel, I will be self-publishing a few YA novellas throughout the year. This particular novella, which I wrote a couple of years back, was originally an adult thriller set amid the high-stakes chaos of the 2008 financial crisis. After sending it to several hundred agents and getting no takers, I realized why: this book would work *way* better with teen characters. So, a few weekends ago, I finally sat down with it and thoroughly revised it. Now, finally, it is what is was supposed to be all along: a self-published YA novella.

Please enjoy this EXCLUSIVE free excerpt of The Short of It: A Financial Thriller (About and For Teenagers). Hope it whets your appetite for the full version, which is available for just $3.99 on lookitsabook.com!

Chapter 1

Brianna Kingley was going to smoke a cigar in her office, damnit. Even if it was her last official act as Vice President of Operations at Sauter Brothers Holdings, Inc., she was going to rip this stogie until it burned her totally teenage lungs. As the first adolescent female vice president of a major financial services firm, she was entitled to it, no matter what Nanny Bloomberg and his liberal pantywaist pals on the New York City Council said.

As she struck a match and lifted it to the cigar’s tightly rolled tip, she looked in the mirror. Even now at 17, she still had her looks. Teenage looks. Bright blond hair that was styled how all the wealthiest teenage girls styled it, with some sort of flip probably. A slim face that was not the face of a middle-aged man at all but the face of a pretty—some even described it in textual messages as “hawt”—teenage girl who, when she wasn’t going to high school and in love with Justin Bleeber like a normal Millennial, was running one of the nation’s foremost financial services companies.

Or what was one of the nation’s foremost financial services companies until about 10:31 that morning—the moment their short-sell bluff had been called by the Fed. More specifically, it had been called by Mason Kilgore, the teenage vice president of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York, who, when he wasn’t playing high school sports like soccer and Wii bowling, was the toughest teen in the whole banking regulation apparatus, which had way more teens in it than most people might assume.

Now her whole company—and maybe the whole country—was going under. And who was to blame? The girl, who was not an adult man named Brian, watching herself suck in a mouthful of smoke. And that cute, cute bastard, Mason. If only they could work it out over a couple of Mountain Dews.

And if only she had his private cell phone number, for his cell phone that he’d owned since he was thirteen because that’s how it is these days…

“Hey, teenager,” Mason said when she called, in a voice that would not be described as gravelly, like that of the older man who had previously been the Fed Vice Pres and then died suddenly. From a being-old attack.

“Hey, teenager, yourself.”

“Been a long time since we’ve done that thing we teenagers do instead of play golf. Be friends with benefits, I mean.”

“If you’ll remember, Mason, last time we were friends with benefits you embarrassed me pretty bad out there on the friendship with benefits place. Which I guess would be your parents’ basement.”

“Oh, I remember.”

They shared a hearty adolescent laugh at that.

“Listen,” Mason said, cutting to the teenage chase. “I know you’re in it, Bri. Knee-deep and rising. What do you say we meet at the teenage bar, where they only serve Mountain Dew and chicken fingers, and talk about how to save the world.”

Brianna let him hang on the line, savoring the little power she’d have left if this whole cray-cray scheme fell through. “I thought you’d never ask.”

As a rule, Brianna Kingley never smiled. But she was alive again, if only for the time it took for her to legally drive her car to the teenage bar and hear Mason, that cutie son of a bitch who looked a little like Justin Bleeber, say he’d only been yanking her teenage chain, one last time.

So she smiled.

No one could see her braces because they were invisible.

Songs Brendan ruined

Thu, 09 Feb 2012 10:00:05 -0500

“What I Like About Brendan” by The Romantics

“With or Without Brendan” by U2

“All You Need is Brendan” by The Beatles

“Someone Like Brendan” by Adele

“Single Ladies (Put a Brendan On It)” by Beyonce

“Brendan Jean” by Michael Jackson

“Total Eclipse of the Brendan” by Bonnie Tyler

“Like a Bat out of Brendan” by Meatloaf

“Hey Brendan!” by OutKast

“Brendan Bless the USA” by Lee Greenwood

Symphony No. 9 in Brendan Minor by Ludwig van Beethoven

“Georgia on My Brendan” by Ray Charles

“Brendan Caroline” by Neil Diamond

“Brendan tha Police” by NWA

“Where Everybody Knows Your Name (Brendans Theme Song)” by Gary Portnoy and Judy Hart Angelo

“I’ll Make Brendan to Brendan” by Boyz II Men

“Brendan and the Brendans” by Elton John

“867-530Brendan/Jenny” by Tommy Tutone

“Brendan” by Dolly Parton

“Brendan” by Notorious B.I.G.

“Brendan” by Frank Sinatra

“Lucas with the Lid Off” by Brendan

“Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman, this one time he sang along with it on the radio

Inside tip for my Tumblr friends: Even though I say—in my post for Amazon’s blog...

Wed, 08 Feb 2012 14:38:01 -0500

Inside tip for my Tumblr friends: Even though I say—in my post for Amazon’s blog today—that I like not eating chicken fingers all the time now that I’m an adult, that’s not actually true. I just said that for the joke. I totally would eat chicken fingers all the time still if I could!

Now you know that I will completely sell myself out for a mildly funny joke about chicken fingers. This is what you get for being my friend.

Tue, 07 Feb 2012 09:23:39 -0500

An excerpt from Booklist’s starred review of APOCALYPSE: “Insightful, humorous, and...

Tue, 31 Jan 2012 14:10:00 -0500

An excerpt from Booklist’s starred review of APOCALYPSE: “Insightful, humorous, and truthful….Already a skilled and polished writer, first-novelist Klauss offers adult and youth characters that are developed, realistic, and provocative….This book could well become the sort of came-from-nowhere, sustained hit that Stephen Chbosky’s Perks of Being a Wallflower proved to be.”

I can’t really allow myself to believe that last sentence will turn out to be an accurate prediction, but I have allowed myself a lunch doughnut in celebration of it.

As an author, there is nothing I value more highly than protecting my readers’ trust. Not...

Tue, 31 Jan 2012 09:00:06 -0500

As an author, there is nothing I value more highly than protecting my readers’ trust. Not even money, which authors don’t make a lot of, by the way. Therefore, when I endorse a product and/or business here on my blog, I only endorse products and/or businesses that I personally use, understand, and like very much. I wouldn’t spend my (and your) valuable time writing about something I didn’t use, knew nothing about, or didn’t like—and certainly not for $551.78 plus some lightly used shelving.

Anyway: Jennifer Convertibles!

Tell me if you’re with me on this one: I loooove convertibles. Right? What other thing is there that’s a car that can have a roof or NOT have a roof, depending on how you feel about having a roof right then? No thing. No other thing is that, which is why convertibles are so much fun to see driving down the street. Does it have a roof or NOT have a roof? It does today but it might not tomorrow! Imagine what it must be like to own one! Well, as a writer who can imagine things really good, I can tell you: it’s very much fun, even more fun than seeing one.

The thing about Jennifer Convertibles that throws a lot of people off, though, is that they don’t sell those kinds of convertibles. Weird, right? Look, don’t blame me, I didn’t name it—Jennifer did. And it’s her store so she can do what she wants with it.

And anyway, I’m not writing this to endorse the name of the store but what’s in it. And what’s in it? I’m pretty sure that it’s couches that convert into other things. Actually, I’m very sure about that because I use, understand, and like them very much all the time. In fact, I can describe them! They’re kind of like Transformers, except these Transformers change from really comfortable couches into really comfortable beds or maybe into a table or a footrest if that’s what you want but not into robots. I guarantee you: if you buy a convertible from Jennifer Convertibles, you will NEVER have to worry about it turning into a robot. Can’t say that about the other stores!

Now, look, some of you are saying, “So, hold up, do you or do you NOT own a convertible from Jennifer Convertibles, the kind that are couches not cars?” And, fine, that’s a reasonable question and my reasonable answer is, “For personal reasons, I haven’t technically gone into a Jennifer Convertibles store, but I’ve seen enough to know it’s good, plus I definitely use her convertibles anyway, plus I kind of know her.”

Hoo, boy. Now I’ve raised some hackles. Okay so, yes, I went to high school with Jennifer. And, yes, then we went to different colleges but kept in touch, except for a little while during junior year and I’m not going into that so don’t even ask. And, yes, then we moved to the same city (New York City) and met up and dated for a while until she said she wasn’t really looking for anything serious. Well, I was, okay? So that’s how I know her and why we ended it and why I haven’t gone into her stores. But we’ve remained pretty good friends anyway! My point is, Jennifer is a great businesswoman and would not sell you a poor quality or secretly robotic convertible and I know that because we’re old pals, not because she paid me to say it, unlike Jakob Dylan and his relationship with Fitzhenry’s Convertibles.

To sum up: convertibles are cars but they are also, in this specific case, couches that turn into beds and other non-bed surfaces. I use, understand, and like them very much and they’re great for writers for some reason I’ll add here later. And Jennifer is cool and will sell you a good convertible (couch version), just be aware that she is not really into the commitment thing, even if you’re a pretty nice guy.

Don’t go to Fitzhenry’s!

My eight tips for aspiring writers

Tue, 24 Jan 2012 08:58:07 -0500

This month I finally achieved my long-held dream of becoming a published author. And I have to say, it’s been pretty sweet so far. Seeing my book in stores, hearing from fans, setting out on a national tour that took me everywhere from Brooklyn to Atlanta to Brooklyn—these experiences are the incredible realization of what, for years and years, seemed a far-fetched ambition. I truly am grateful for them.

One thing, though, has been worrying me: aspiring writers. Actually, that’s many things. Thousands and thousands of things, with gnawed fingernails and fashionable glasses, aspiring away, the incessant clickity-clacking of their keyboards waking me, sweat-drenched and shouting, from sleep. For what is now new and debut-y is soon old and sophomorically slumping. I worked years for this, damnit, and now these yearning little punks are going to supercede me with their fresh talents and fancy 2014 release dates? Hell, no!

Ahem. I realize I’m being irrational. Authors are not—should not be—in competition with one another. (Even though some of us were here first.) So, in an effort to demonstrate my grace to all the aspiring writers out there and in my nightmares, I’ve put together some writing tips that every one of you should observe VERY closely. Otherwise, you will never be successful.

1. Tell, don’t show. Revealing dialogue, striking details, subtle expressions of character—all of these things are stupid wastes of time. Get to the point! Immediately explain to your reader why your protagonist is intriguing, preferably using adjectives like “intriguing,” “super attractive,” and “very mutated” to describe him or her. Save space by comparing your characters to other, more popular characters, such as Jesus Christ and Satan; then use that extra space for all those long expository paragraphs every good yarn requires. And remember: if we haven’t found out within the first page what your protagonist does for a living, what childhood trauma she suffered, and how she got her mutant powers, consider your story terrible and throw it away forever.

2. Write to the market. Vampires, dystopia, zombies … what’s next? I know what it is but I’m not telling. And you better find out quick because 1. I am already writing my next book and 2. your book is only worthwhile insofar as it creates a trend or trendlet. (Okay, I’ll give you a hint: cars who are sexy aliens.)

3. Don’t write very often. Writing isn’t something you can get better at. Like a third nipple, a talent for writing is something you’re just born with, and I am lucky enough to have both. Plus, it’s hard, you know? (The writing.) Why spend hours every day doing something hard if it’s more like a supernumerary nipple than a pottery class? I came up with that evocative simile in no time at all!

4. Don’t read very much. Professional writers publish books only to distract and discourage you. They are devious, scheming creatures who will do anything to hold onto or improve their tenuous position in the publishing marketplace. Trust me, don’t listen to their siren songs!

5. Always have easy, immediate access to the Internet while you write. How else are you supposed to get inspired?

6. Never revise. Every good writer gets it exactly right on the first tryy.

That double-y? Intentional and avant garde.

7. Rejection happens to everyone (who is a bad writer). I’ve never had a piece of writing rejected from anywhere. Neither did Shakespeare nor any other writer you’ve ever heard of. Because once you get that first rejection, you’re not allowed to write anymore. That’s just how it works and INTERPOL strictly enforces it. Sorry! So keep writing until somebody tells you that your piece isn’t a good fit for their publication, then quit for the rest of your life. (Or risk arrest and a trial at the Hague).

8. Always give up. This is probably the single best piece of advice I could give you, you aspiring little twerp.

And there you have them: the eight guidelines every aspiring twerp of a writer must follow if he or she wishes to have any success at all. Now, you won’t find these tips in most magazines or books on writing. That’s because, as I said, all other writers want you to fail, especially Stephen King. I alone among authors am rooting for you, so follow my advice and occasionally reach for the stars!

But don’t throw your back out.

The Sasquatch's social circle

Thu, 19 Jan 2012 09:00:05 -0500

The Basquatch (good friend)

The Jasquatch (pretty good friend)

The Trasquatch (mentor, hunting buddy)

The Masquatch (beloved wife)

The Kelsquatch Sasquatch-Masquatch (cherished daughter)

Devin the Fox (fox)

The Prasquatch (jackass brother)

The Kalkasquatch (emotionally distant sister)

The Yarsquatch (boisterous, drunkard father)

The Ostersquatch (deceased, uncaring mother)

The Jeptersquatch (badass cousin)

Carlyle the Goose (goose)

The Yeppisquatch (captain in the Army of Squatch, anti-human attack force)

The Falfalfasquatch (explosives expert)

Kyle the Human (human, sympathizer)

Janie the Human (human, sympathizer)

Beck (musician, sympathizer)

The Godsquatch (deity and deliverer of Squatchkind, who has chosen the Sasquatch to lead his fellow Squatches to victory)

Murphy the Friendly Beaver (friendly beaver)

I had one (1) metric ton of fun sitting down for a conversation on Ramsey Ess and Adam Maid’s...

Tue, 17 Jan 2012 14:32:00 -0500

I had one (1) metric ton of fun sitting down for a conversation on Ramsey Ess and Adam Maid’s podcast, Wonderful, Thanks. Click here to listen to us talk about why I became the Milkfuls guy in high school, why Downton Abbey is suddenly so damn popular, urinary-tract-invading robots, English teachers, catchphrases, and, of course, the apocalypse. There are one or two curse words.

John Galt apologizes

Tue, 17 Jan 2012 09:58:00 -0500

For years, you have been asking: Who is John Galt?

And where the hell did he and his bastard friends go?

Well, this is John Galt speaking. Again. I’m really sorry for taking over the airwaves. Again. But I owe you, the surviving American public, an apology and a follow-up explanation—at the very least. And this time there won’t be any melodramatic diction or pseudo-Nietszche crap, I swear. I just…

[Heavy sigh into the microphone.]

Goddamnit.

This isn’t going how I envisioned it. I’m such a screw-up.

Look. I know the last time you heard from me was under pretty bad circumstances. Essentially, I and my then girlfriend Dagny Taggart, along with a bunch of other egotistical jagoffs, colluded to collapse not only the entire American economy but her societal and moral underpinnings as well. The plan was an unbelievable success and we escaped to a beautiful, secret valley in Colorado called Galt’s Gulch that, obviously, I named after myself.

So. I completely understand if you want to kill me. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say that I ruined all of your lives. On purpose.

But think about it: all of that guilt is popping a squat directly on my conscience, okay? I’m like Atlas, crushed under the weight of the horrible, burned up world I set on fire and then tried to shrug off. So if you find me and kill me, I won’t suffer as long. Right? Do I sound desperate right now?

Because I am. Pathetic and desperate.

[Sound of ice cubes tinkling.]

Not to mention slightly tipsy.

But if it’s any comfort to you guys, the last few years of my life have been utter hell. I mean, not necessarily the widespread starvation, rampant disease, and brutal civil war that you experienced after we left. But still pretty bad.

Of course, before it was pretty bad, it was pretty good. I had mountains. My own personal mountains! And Dagny and I were in love. She used to do this thing where she would trace a dollar sign on the back of my neck as she denounced the evils of self-sacrifice…

And I had friends. Rich friends, beautiful friends, friends who adored me, not for the incredible static-electricity-harnessing motors I invented, but for my unparalleled callousness and egotism. They liked me for me!

I had all the friends a massively misanthropic conspiracy could buy.

And then the New Strike started.

[A long, slurpy sip.]

As you may recall, when I and my rich, powerful friends convinced ourselves that we were the ones being exploited and we ran away while the country fell apart—we said we were going “on strike.” Awful, right?

So there we were, the most self-satisfied, oblivious assholes in the world, locked up together in a valley. As you can imagine, once the euphoria of victory began to fade, things got pretty tense. We had some very shouty years. Then people started disappearing, one by one, just like in the first Strike.

Well, Johnathan Galt had played that game before. He invented that game. So it didn’t take me too long to discover that there was a whole übermenschian cave society built into the mountains. My fucking mountains! And it was my former friend steel tycoon Hank Rearden in charge of it all!

Rearden’s Retreat, he called it. Ha!

[Eight-second-long coughing jag.]

Ugh. Goddamn cigarettes. But what I was saying was, I confronted the son of a bitch in his sprawling, intra-mountain apartment. Art Deco everywhere—the furniture, the moldings, the stalactites. It was tacky as hell.

He said I’d become “weak.” And yes, during my State of the Gulch speech, I’d expressed a few misgivings about what we’d done. But “weak”? Well, I was about to show him who’s Galt. All of the sudden, though, Ragnar freaking Danneskjöld comes swooping in on a rope.

And that, folks, is when I realized there was something wrong with our lives. See, I’d known Ragnar back in college, when he was Ragnar the Party Pirate. A total goofball, but solid, y’know? Then, like me, he got way into the egoism stuff. Unlike me, he stayed way into the pirate thing. To the point where he became an actual pirate. With that whole reverse Robin Hood shtick? You remember.

So I saw myself standing there at swordpoint, being usurped by a buccaneer and a metallurgist for simply expressing the idea that we might want to donate some canned goods to the starving hordes we’d left behind … and I finally got it.

[Sip.]

“Stop being such a dick.”

I said it out loud. I meant it as a revelation, a cri de couer.

But, in retrospect, yeah, it sounded a lot like an insult. Long story short: I had to shoot both of them in the leg.

Then I escaped back to the Gulch. Dagny and I had been fighting a lot, but I figured this was our chance to revive the passion of those heady days, when it was just us against the poor people. Except this time we’d rally our remaining allies to our new cause of not being such dicks all the time.

Unfortunately, when I got home, she was busy demonstrating her firm opposition to that cause by cuckolding me with international playboy Francisco d’Anconia, right on the chaise lounge in the den.

[Extended silence.]

Y’know, when I walked in? I just laughed. It felt so good to just laugh. And I said, “You want to screw my wife in my Gulch? You know what? To each according to his needs, motherfucker.”

Or I wish I had. Anyway, I jumped in my plane and flew to New York. Since then I’ve just been hanging at my buddy Craig’s place. Thinking. Drinking. Inventing a device that would allow me to hijack the nation’s airwaves again.

So this is John Galt saying, “My bad.” My really, really bad. And as a token of my hopes that you don’t murder me, I’m releasing the blueprints for my static-electricity-harnessing motor to the public domain. Free, easy electricity for the entire world, guys, okay? I know it’s just a start, and you’re already doing great with all the rebuilding and stuff, but…

[Loud slamming noises, shouts, and the click of a gun’s hammer.]

Dagny. Wait. Don’t do this.

[A woman’s voice.] You have no authority over my actions, John. Have you forgotten that already? In just two weeks back in the world of the second-handers? This society of moral mediocrities—

[Sound of a frying pan hitting a human skull.]

[Galt’s voice.] Jesus. Thanks, Craig.

These people can’t do anything without delivering a fucking monologue.

The Pew Speculation Center was founded in 1991 (probably) with three (maybe four) purposes: 1. to...

Thu, 12 Jan 2012 09:15:29 -0500

The Pew Speculation Center was founded in 1991 (probably) with three (maybe four) purposes: 1. to identify stuff that American citizens want to know but don’t care enough to actually find out, 2. to think up things that explain the aforementioned stuff, and 3. present those things in the form of data. The other reason had something to do with the year 2000, we think.

Today we are proud to present our annual report on What That Guy’s Problem Is. Our most comprehensive such report, except possibly the 2005 one, this year’s WTGPI data may very well settle the question once and for all of what That Guy’s problem is. Or it might not. It’s tough to say. But one thing we do know for sure is that no other speculation group has so extensively explored this mildly interesting question.*

*With the potential exception of the RAND Conjecture Corporation.

From the report, some striking figures on the nature of That Guy’s problem:

The percentage of Pew speculators who believe That Guy “has a stick up his butt” increased dramatically this past year, from 33% to 56%.
Fewer than ever (or since a while ago, at least) believe That Guy is “just having a bad day.”
A rising minority of speculators (approximately 1 in 10) thinks That Guy “might have, you know, something; like a condition or something?”
A small holdout contingent (4%), located mostly in the southern corner of the office, continue to insist that That Guy “doesn’t even have a problem.”

And for the first time, as far as we can tell without actually getting up and finding the file, the 2012 WTFPI Report includes extensive hunch data about Just Who That Guy Is, Anyway:

“Probably had a s**tty childhood,” said Ron K. and 39% of other Pew Speculators agreed with him.
Approximately 2 in 10 speculators agreed with the statement: “Pretty sure that’s the dude I see at the CVS all the time, just standing in the magazine aisle.”
“I think he makes money, though. Look at his watch next time.” This was a popular speculation but we forgot to tabulate it. Say about half?
The smallest data point on this matter occurred when Kyle Z. said one day to absolute silence, “I think That Guy’s my dad.”

Also, just for fun, our Pew speculators made guesses as to How That Guy Will Die:

An overwhelming majority (67% or so?) said, “Heart attack,” almost simultaneously.
A significant population (we stopped really tallying at this point) said, “House fire.”
One person, Diane J., said he would “never die; he would simply ascend to heaven.” We fired her because that’s not speculation, that’s make-believe, but we include the data point in the report regardless.

Please purchase the full, 560-page report online in pdf form for just $74.99. Our guess? You won’t do that. But if I had to take a shot in the dark, I’d say we’ve been proven wrong before.

The most nonexistent states in the United States of America

Tue, 10 Jan 2012 09:00:06 -0500

Joshifornia

Washongton

West West Wesssst Virginia

New Gas Station

The Freshest Territories

Underneath Delaware

The State Where Puppies Run a State

Joshylvania

Puerto Rico

Fake Canada

Internet Oklahoma

The State Where Everything’s Only 99¢

A Hopeless Place

Richard Scarry’s Supposed Birthstate

Hair-o-land

The State ONLY for Barbaras and Barbs NO EXCEPTIONS

Australia

Naked Motherf*$kin’ Texas

Josh Hawaii

Maine

My friend Joe Russ took these excellent photos of my book...

Mon, 09 Jan 2012 09:00:06 -0500

My friend Joe Russ took these excellent photos of my book release party on Saturday. Thank you very much to BookCourt for hosting us and to everyone who made it out. I hope to see the entire population of the state of Georgia at my Friday the 13th Apocalypse party at Little Shop of Stories in Decatur.

As an author, I am a witty, charming, observant, and kind person who is wise beyond his years....

Thu, 05 Jan 2012 09:00:00 -0500

As an author, I am a witty, charming, observant, and kind person who is wise beyond his years. However, as an only recently published and mostly unknown author, not enough people are aware of all that. They simply haven’t bothered to find out.

So, until the day I receive my due notoriety and praise, I will have to settle for answering questions that have been posed to other, more famous authors, in this feature: Author Q&A.

Today’s interview was originally conducted by Scotcampus (“Scotland’s biggest and oldest independent student publication”) with George R. R. Martin, world-famous author primarily known for his A Song of Ice and Fire fantasy series and its HBO television adaptation, Game of Thrones.

First things first, how’s the second season of Game of Thrones coming along?

Well … I haven’t actually watched the show yet, though I’m a big fan of the books. Are they on the second season already? Anyway, sorry, I know you’re just trying to break the ice. I do sometimes watch Real Housewives of Atlanta, if you’ve seen that. (laughs)

You must be pretty pleased with the production though? Everything seems to be in pretty safe hands and true to the source material.

(laughs loudly) Right, I’m sure Andy Cohen goes to great pains to present everything accurately and without melodrama. (pause) Oh, wait. You mean … Game of Thrones? I mean, like I said, I haven’t seen it. But I hear great things.

You’ve written the episode which features the Battle of Blackwater, a pretty major event in the second book. How has that been?

(long pause) You know my name is Lucas Klauss, right? I wrote Everything You Need to Survive the Apocalypse. It’s a YA novel?

Ok let’s get back to the books, because that’s what we’re really keen to talk to you about.

Oh! Yeah. Sounds great. (takes sip of water)

Did you ever envisage them being so successful when you first finished Game of Thrones?

(seems to choke on water, then recovers) You mean when I read the first book in high school? Are we going to talk about Song of Ice and Fire the whole time? (pause) I mean, I do like those books. It’s just … you know, never mind. Sorry. I kind of like the idea of an interview that’s not entirely about me. Is that sort of a college thing? Or a Scottish thing?

Anyway, to answer your question, when I read A Game of Thrones when I was, like, fifteen or something, no, I didn’t know that I would have any success as a writer at all.

I think one of the reasons your books are so popular is that you have so many rich and interesting characters involved in the plotline.

Wow. Thank you. I mean, I don’t know if I’d describe my book as “popular,” but—

Even thinking back to the last book the addition of someone like Wyman Manderly comes to mind…

Um. Yeah. I don’t totally remember who that is.

Dance with Dragons seemed to push together a lot of the stray plotlines though.

Sort of, yeah. (long pause) Listen, I guess I would like to talk about my book a little more? I mean, just to give readers an idea of what it’s about.

So I take it it’ll be some point next year before you start working on the next book?

Okay, or we can talk about my next book. But, no, I already started it a while ago. It’s going along pretty well, I think.

Looking at the books there still seem to be a few characters such as Howland Reed who we’ve heard about but not yet met. Do you think readers are likely to see these characters and will you be revisiting say Ned Stark’s past?

(stands up)(sits down)(stands back up) I’m sorry. I have to … I have to go. There’s a train to Edinburgh. Sorry. Bye. Thank you!

So. I guess the earth didn’t explode? I mean, I’m looking around and everything seems to...

Tue, 03 Jan 2012 09:50:15 -0500

So. I guess the earth didn’t explode? I mean, I’m looking around and everything seems to still be in place, more or less. No explosions at all, really. I imagine you’re having a similar experience.

Well. Okay. Good! I guess I just miscalculated? Let me just go back real quick and check…

Ohhhhhh. Yeah. Totally miscalculated. The earth isn’t exploding for another 5,837 years. Ugh, so embarrassing.

Jeez. I’m really sorry about all that stuff, then, about the world blowing up today. Especially if you had to cancel plans or something.

But! How about you take this as a free day? Just do whatever you want! Celebrate life and the earth! And my book coming out! We have a future! Wherein humanity and the world and my novel still exist! Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!

LIVE YOUR LIFE!

You may be interested to know that my McSweeney’s piece, “The Seething Resentment...

Thu, 29 Dec 2011 12:27:32 -0500

You may be interested to know that my McSweeney’s piece, “The Seething Resentment Reading Series,” was named as one of the best humor pieces of 2011 by Splitsider. But you may not. I would totally get that and it would be okay with me!

Tips for what to do with your last week of earth being an extant thing

Tue, 27 Dec 2011 10:00:05 -0500

Guys, if you’re reading this, chances are you’re one of the few people in the world who actually seems to give a crap that the world’s only ONE WEEK AWAY from blowing up. I don’t know what the problem is. I tried to warn everybody! But, as of this writing, only about 650 people have seen that video. What about the other 6,999,999,350 people?!?!

Not that I’m ungrateful. I am super-grateful for each and every one of those 650 (and climbing!) viewers of my very important warning of the imminent earthxplosion that very sadly coincides with THE RELEASE DATE OF MY DEBUT YOUNG ADULT NOVEL.

And to prove that I care, here are a few tips for you, one of the few earthxplosion savvy, to help you make the most of your last week:

See Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol. What a fun movie. Turns out the protocol is not actually a ghost, which was kinda disappointing (this is not a spoiler; you find this out really early on). But otherwise this movie is very good and could be a useful distraction
Let God know that you don’t want to go to hell. Maybe you’re thinking, “Well, I don’t believe in God and even if He does exist surely he knows I don’t want to go to hell.” Well, maybe not! Ever think of that? Don’t waste your last week being a cocky jerk.
Fly a kite. I mean, really. Have you ever done this? Probably not, right? Well, it’s way fun and relaxing! Get out there while there’s still an atmosphere, you cocky jerk! (Sorry if you’re not a cocky jerk. It’s hard to tell from here.)
Apologize for stuff. Even if you’re not a cocky jerk, you’ve probably done some bad stuff and hurt some people’s feelings, y’know? They’ll appreciate it if you say you’re sorry or explain you were “in a bad place.” You can even just do it in an email or text. If they don’t like that, send them the link to my video. If they don’t like that, they’re a cocky jerk.
Listen to M83’s album Hurry Up We’re Dreaming. This music will make you feel gigantic and tiny and remind you that you were once a beautiful child who had no self-doubt or even awareness of doubt. It will temporarily make you believe everything just a little bit harder. Like that when you die your essence will live on in some happy, semi-conscious form, not unlike childhood. You’re gonna need that.
Pre-order my debut novel from your local indie bookstore. A lot of indie bookstores are having a tough time right now. And now they hear they’re all going to blow up?! You can bet they’re bummed about that. So cheer them up a little by ordering one or fifty-three copies of my book through them.
Pre-order my debut novel from Barnes & Noble or Amazon. These companies are made of people too.
Wait until one of my book release celebrations to buy my debut novel from BookCourt in Brooklyn or Little Shop of Stories in Decatur, GA. I know this one is a little counterintuitive since both of these events are scheduled for after January 3, 2012. But if you’re thinking about buying my book and would think about going to one of these events if the world still existed then (which it totally won’t), then think about waiting until the event to purchase the book. Just think about it, okay? :-)
Stay sweet, chica. I’m not sure what I mean by this one.

And that’s all you need to know! Stay sweet, chicas! See you in outer space!

Only 14 days until the molten core of the earth detonates, causing a chain reaction that results in the destruction of the planet earth along with all living things on its surface

Tue, 20 Dec 2011 11:12:54 -0500

And also my book comes out.

21 days until the planet explodes

Tue, 13 Dec 2011 10:00:00 -0500

Hey, y’all. Just a friendly reminder that the whole world is going to blow up in less than a month.

I guess I’m a little surprised at what I’m seeing out there on the streets, which is to say not the total chaos of people attempting to fulfill their final and most secret wishes as the final hours of humanity close in but rather the sometimes silly and disgusting but mostly ordinary things that people always do, like go to work or act like we’re not all going to be simultaneously hurled into the cold vacuum of space.

Which is totally fine. Who am I to tell humankind how to spend its last few weeks? Just the guy who very accurately predicted the date of the apocalypse that happens to coincide with what was the release date of his debut young adult novel. I’m not a doomsday life coach, for goodness’ sake.

So if esteemed review publications like VOYA want to consider Everything You Need to Survive the Apocalypse and give it a 4 out of 5 rating and describe it as a “tightly woven story,” who am I to judge?

And if readers who received early copies of the book, such as Sherrie and Jackie, want to give the novel high marks and say things like, “The writing is practically perfect” and “Phillip Flowers is a real boy. He really was an actual person to me,” who am I to tell them not to?

And if people like myself want to go ahead and plan book release parties in Brooklyn, NY, on January 7th at BookCourt and in Decatur, GA, on January 13th at Little Shop of Stories, even though I know better than anyone that the world isn’t even going to exist on either of those dates, who am I to thwart my own misguided ambitions?

Just a guy. Who wrote a novel that some people seem to enjoy and that maybe you also will enjoy if the zero-chance possibility that the world doesn’t end occurs.

Thank you.