As some of you may already know, I am no longer the head editor of Bust Down the Door and Eat All the Chickens, but the journal still lives on with Sam Reeve as my replacement. Out of all the authors who I published, Andrew W. Adams was one of my favorites. He was also one of the authors who I published the most. His final story during my tenure, “Romantic Fucking Comedy,” appeared in the last issue. I conducted this interview with him throughout the duration of our lives. At the beginning, I sent Andrew one letter (of the alphabet) in the mail each month. When I finished relating my question, Andrew did the same thing with his answer. This process continued through the years, and it was a lot of fun. I felt like a spy, which is something that I have always wanted to be since overhearing my first James Bond movie while in the womb.
Bust Down the Door and Eat All the Chickens: Let’s begin with a very important question: What is your favorite color and what is your favorite number and why?
Andrew W. Adams: I have red-green color blindness and either can’t see certain shades or see them differently, so my favorite color is whichever of those shades is prettiest. My name for this imaginary color is “96 Tears.” My favorite number is phi (1.618…) because of the scene in the movie Pi where Max explains the golden ratio to that Jewish guy in the coffee shop.
Ha ha ha! You have 1.618 ninety-six tears haired girlfriends. You must have cut one ninety-six tears haired girlfriend into 0.618 and sewed the piece onto your other ninety-six tears haired girlfriend. Dude, that’s really fucked up.
I published your story “Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus,” in the sixth issue of Bust Down the Door and Eat All the Chickens. It’s about a man whose comatose wife is raped by a scuba diver. Since the story is written in first person, your comatose wife was also raped by a scuba diver. Am I correct?
That is entirely accurate.
Why do you prefer to write autobiographical stories with mushroom clouds?
The mushroom cloud motif probably has something to do with a kind of apocalypse fetish. And I write autobiography because I am afraid of death.
I’m changing the name of my favorite color to “Tutti Frutti.”
What is it like to have an apocalypse fetish?
It is like being a very normal person.
I can’t get past that Mad Libs thing you did with my favorite number and favorite color. It’s haunting me.
By the way, what are your favorite number and favorite color? I am not going to do any kind of Mad Libs thing with your answer. I just feel like I need this info before I can find closure and move on.
By the way, please explain your obsession with finding out my favorite number and my favorite color.
I am trying to learn everything about you so that I can make you fall in love with me.
Wow, that is my favorite animal too! See how compatible we are?
There can only be one Chia Pet per household. It would turn into a Highlander Movie. Let’s switch gears, and I apologize for the insignificance of this question, but: have you written a book? You’re the best writer doing bizarro-type stuff who I’m aware of that doesn’t have a book. Give me a book. Just give it to me. Where is it? What do I have to do to read it? That? No. That? I won’t do that. Anything but that…okay, I guess I’ll do it.
I have written a few books that I now like to pretend do not exist. So:
No, I haven’t written a book. I am working on my first one now. If you send me a month’s supply of cocaine and protein shakes, I promise to write 5000 words a day and do 500 pushups a day. I can have the book finished in a week, and I will have very impressive biceps for my author’s photo. I think this is a good plan.
Or, if that doesn’t work: I will continue to do the best I can, and trust that my unwillingness to quit will eventually bear fruit. I should have something available by the time I’m 50, at least. I hope you can wait that long. I will dedicate the book to you. Its release will be a very “Rocky”-like moment for me.
Write your book while running up and down the steps in front of Philadelphia’s Museum of Art two thousand times. Let me know when you are finished.
Despite what I just said about an “unwillingness to quit”, I am considering giving up writing to study the art of mime. But I don’t know where to go to do this. Are there mime schools?
Wait, what am I saying; of course there are mime schools.
Why are you so damn hard to kill, Andrew W. Adams?
Because I’m just not worth the effort.
Thank you for the interview. By the way, there is a man behind you with a razor wire sombrero.