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Being dead sucks. Make that being undead sucks.
Literally. Just ask Thomas C. Flood. Waking up after a fantastic night unlike anything he's ever experienced, he discovers that his girlfriend, Jody—the woman of his dreams—is a vampire. And surprise! Now he's one, too.
For some couples, the whole biting-and-blood thing would have been a deal breaker. But Tommy and Jody are in love, and they vow to work through their issues. Like how much Jody should teach Tommy about his new superpowers (and how much he needs to learn on his own). Plus there's Tommy's cute new minion, sixteen-year-old goth girl Abby Normal. (Well, someone has to run errands during daylight hours!)
Making the relationship work, however, is the least of Jody and Tommy's problems. Word has it that the vampire who nibbled on Jody wasn't supposed to be recruiting any new members into the club. Even worse, Tommy's erstwhile turkey-bowling pals are out to get him, at the urging of a blue-dyed Las Vegas call girl named (duh) Blue.
And that really sucks.
You Suck is funny enough to reanimate Mr. Moore’s fans, at least those who wondered about the last book’s squirrel types. It’s sure to appeal to anyone who shares the author’s ideas of a fun-loving vampire’s priorities.
More Reviews and RecommendationsWith a body of work that boasts some of the most outlandish plots and outrageous characters ever to make it onto the printed page, Christopher Moore is rapidly making a name for himself as the clown prince of contemporary fiction. It may be a dirty job, but Moore is more than up to the task.
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November 17, 2009: I thought I'd get bored with this plot because You Suck follows A Dirty Job and Blood Sucking Fiends, but much to my surprise, I was entertaining through out. A Great Book!
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October 16, 2009: This is the first C. Moore book I've read. I didn't realize it was a sequel until I started but still didn't have a hard time following the characters as he does a decent recap. The characters are hilarious and witty. The story can be hard to follow if you're not paying attention as the narration changes w/ almost every chapter. It's very detailed but never dull. Some parts can be confusing, but are usually explained in the next chapter. If you enjoy vampires, humor, cursing, Emo kids or surprises, you'll love "You Suck". I'll be picking up "Bloodsucking Fiends" to catch up on the back story - "You Suck" seems to leave the door open for a third book.
Name:
Christopher Moore
Current Home:
Hawaii and San Francisco, California
Date of Birth:
August 05, 1958
Place of Birth:
Toledo, Ohio
Awards:
Quill Award, Science Fiction/Fantasy/Horror Book of the Year, for The Stupidest Angel, 2005 and A Dirty Job, 2006
A 100-year-old ex-seminarian and a demon set off together on a psychotic road trip...
Christ's wisecracking childhood pal is brought back from the dead to chronicle the Messiah's "missing years"...
A mild-mannered thrift shop owner takes a job harvesting souls for the Grim Reaper...
Whence come these wonderfully weird scenarios? From the fertile imagination of Christopher Moore, a cheerfully demented writer whose absurdist fiction has earned him comparisons to master satirists like Kurt Vonnegut, Terry Pratchett, and Douglas Adams.
Ever since his ingenious debut, 1992's Practical Demonkeeping, Moore has attracted an avid cult following. But, over the years, as his stories have become more multi-dimensional and his characters more morally complex, his fan base has expanded to include legions of enthusiastic general readers and appreciative critics.
Asked where his colorful characters come from, Moore points to his checkered job resume. Before becoming a writer, he worked at various times as a grocery clerk, an insurance broker, a waiter, a roofer, a photographer, and a DJ -- experiences he has mined for a veritable rogue's gallery of unforgettable fictional creations. Moreover, to the delight of hardcore fans, characters from one novel often resurface in another. For example, the lovesick teen vampires introduced in 1995's Bloodsucking Fiends are revived (literally) for the 2007 sequel You Suck -- which also incorporates plot points from 2006's A Dirty Job.
For a writer of satirical fantasy, Moore is a surprisingly scrupulous researcher. In pursuit of realistic details to ground his fiction, he has been known to immerse himself in marine biology, death rituals, Biblical scholarship, and Goth culture. He has been dubbed "the thinking man's Dave Barry" by none other than The Onion, a publication with a particular appreciation of smart humor.
As for story ideas, Moore elaborates on his website: "Usually [they come] from something I read. It could be a single sentence in a magazine article that kicks off a whole book. Ideas are cheap and easy. Telling a good story once you get an idea is hard." Perhaps. But, to judge from his continued presence on the bestseller lists, Chris Moore appears to have mastered the art.
In researching his wild tales, Moore has done everything from taking excursions to the South Pacific to diving with whales. So what is left for the author to tackle? He says he'd like to try riding an elephant.
One of the most memorably weird moments in Moore's body of work is no fictional invention. The scene in Bloodsucking Fiendswhere the late-night crew of a grocery store bowls with frozen turkeys is based on Moore's own experiences bowling with frozen turkeys while working the late shift at a grocery store.
What was the book that most influenced your life or your career as a writer?
Cannery Row by John Steinbeck. In Cannery Row, Steinbeck writes about very flawed people, but with great affection, and by doing so, shows us that it is our flaws that make us human, and that is what we share, that is our humanity. A friend of mine used to say, "He writes with the voice of a benevolent God." In the process, the book is also very funny. I think I saw that as a model, as a guide. I'd always written humor that was fairly edgy, but here was a guy writing with great power and gentle humor. I was moved and inspired.
What are your ten favorite books, and what makes them special to you?
What are some of your favorite films, and what makes them unforgettable to you?
What types of music do you like? Is there any particular kind you like to listen to when you're writing?
I like rock 'n' roll, the Stones, Springsteen, U2, Foo Fighters, as well as singer-songwriters like Sheryl Crow, Aimee Mann, and John Hiatt, but I don't listen to any of those when I'm writing. When I'm writing I listen to acid jazz or ambient groove or chill music, stuff with a steady, jazzy beat, but no words. Bands like Baby Mammoth, Fila Brasilia, and Afterlife -- usually on Groove Salad, an Internet radio station. Sometimes I'll put on Gershwin or Bach if the mood strikes: I like Rhapsody in Blue and the Brandenburg Concerto No. 3. Seems like stuff should be happening when those songs are playing.
If you had a book club, what would it be reading?
Sailing Around the Room Alone by Billy Collins. It's a collection of poetry, spare and elegant and very, very funny. He catches the spirit of a moment as well as any Japanese haiku poet, yet he has a great sense of silliness and irony. Someone nearly forced me to read this book, putting it in my hand, physically, again and again, and I'm forever grateful. When I needed to think about Death and the importance of the moments of our lives and how to express them, Billy Collins inspires me.
What are your favorite kinds of books to give -- and get -- as gifts?
I like getting art and photography books as gifts, because I normally wouldn't buy them for myself. I also like it when someone gives me a hardcover of a book I really love. Something to keep. It doesn't have to be a first edition or anything, just something I can read over and over again. On some occasions, I've been given books I completely didn't want, like Billy Collins, or Steve Kluger's The Last Days of Summer, only to be completely surprised and delighted.
Do you have any special writing rituals? For example, what do you have on your desk when you're writing?
Everything, including my feet. Really. Right now I'm sitting in the middle of a nest of chaos. I have a big, L-shaped desk, and there's not a free inch of it. It would take two pages to list all the crap on my desk. (I know -- I've tried it.) Consistently, there's always a cup a coffee and a bottle of water there.
Many writers are hardly "overnight success" stories. How long did it take for you to get where you are today? Any rejection-slip horror stories or inspirational anecdotes?
I've been writing professionally for about 15 years now, and I make a pretty good living, which is, I suppose, what you're going for when you start this journey. When I was 16 I decided I wanted to write for a living, but since I didn't really believe I could make enough to live on, I went to college for photography. I got sidetracked for a few years, and then when I was 25 or so, I went to a writer's conference where people said that I was pretty good, that I ought to give it a whirl.
I started getting serious right about then, and I quit my job as an insurance broker and moved to a town where it was cheaper to live and I could do work that didn't take much of my mental energy. I waited tables and such. It was eight years before I sold my first book. I didn't really go through a huge gauntlet of rejections. The challenge for me was developing the discipline to actually finish a book. After I finished my first book, it took about eleven months to sell it, but it didn't feel as if I was struggling. The writing was the hard part.
What tips or advice do you have for writers still looking to be discovered?
Do the work and keep doing the work. Send it out and keep sending it out. If you're writing stories that interest you and challenge you, then they will probably interest and challenge someone else, and the bottom line is, you'll get some satisfaction out of doing the work as well as getting the rewards for it. I don't think I had any success at writing until I gave up worry about being a success and just tried to write stories that I'd like to read.
Getting a Life
When you write books for a living, it doesn't take long to realize that if you don't do something, you're going to spend the bulk of your life in a room, alone, making clicky noises on a keyboard. I think I realized that early on, so I try to pick the subjects of my books so every other one gets me out there doing something. For Island of the Sequined Love Nun, I went to a small island in Micronesia and lived with the natives. (Way overrated, by the way, that "life on a tropical island." Chairs and hot showers are your friends.)
My next book, The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove, would be set in the town I was living in, but I got to do research on psycho-pharmaceuticals, and since most of my friends were on anti-depressants, I got to go out to lunch with them a lot and ask them personal questions. The next book would be Lamb, which took me to Israel, and the first century, but most of the research was academic, so the next project was Fluke, where I lived around and worked with marine mammal biologists for two seasons in Maui. That was an amazing experience that actually culminated in being able to get in the water with singing humpbacks.
So life kind of oscillates for me, from my office to the outside world, and the great thing is, now my readers write me and offer glimpses into their lives. Sometimes I take them up on it. When I needed to know how to steal a 747 for Island of the Sequined Love Nun, I contacted an airline pilot who loved my books. (It wasn't as sensitive back then as it is now.) There's always some cool thing to learn coming around the corner.
More Advice for Aspiring Writers
It's funny how new writers will always ask you how to get an agent, but they hardly ever ask anything about the craft. I've written ten books, I know a lot about the craft. I've only ever gotten an agent once, and that was fifteen years ago, by a complete luck. I don't know anything about getting an agent. I don't think people realize that getting published is sort of like being born -- if you get it right, you only have to do it once.
Philosophy
I pretty much believe that irony is the strongest force in the universe, and I think that someday, some scholar is going to be able to take all of my books and be able to prove that, by the clever application of mathematics, computer science, and advanced weaselocity.
Other Interests
I like to scuba dive and ocean kayak. I'm not particularly good at those things, but they put me in touch with the ocean and my own mortality pretty quickly (particularly because I'm not very good at them). That's always an inspiration, because after I survive getting slammed against some rocks by a ten-foot wave, or hurling through my regulator underwater and watching colorful tropical fish eating my lunch chunks, I really appreciate getting back to my desk. I'm thankful that people will pay to read stuff I make up and I don't have to actually do anything to make a living.
When vampires fall in love, all hell breaks loose. That seems to be the message of You Suck: A Love Story by Stupidest Angel author Christopher Moore. Teenage bloodsuckers Tommy and Jody are carrying on a torrid romance (apparently, vampire sex is hot), but their magnetic attraction is threatened by a host of intruders. A motley crew of amateur vampire hunters is on the prowl, and the decrepit vampire who "turned" Jody is eager to get his fangs back in her again. Fortunately, with the help of a sympathetic goth girl, love and blood do eventually conquer all. Nocturnal entertainment.
Being dead sucks. Make that being undead sucks.
Literally. Just ask Thomas C. Flood. Waking up after a fantastic night unlike anything he's ever experienced, he discovers that his girlfriend, Jody—the woman of his dreams—is a vampire. And surprise! Now he's one, too.
For some couples, the whole biting-and-blood thing would have been a deal breaker. But Tommy and Jody are in love, and they vow to work through their issues. Like how much Jody should teach Tommy about his new superpowers (and how much he needs to learn on his own). Plus there's Tommy's cute new minion, sixteen-year-old goth girl Abby Normal. (Well, someone has to run errands during daylight hours!)
Making the relationship work, however, is the least of Jody and Tommy's problems. Word has it that the vampire who nibbled on Jody wasn't supposed to be recruiting any new members into the club. Even worse, Tommy's erstwhile turkey-bowling pals are out to get him, at the urging of a blue-dyed Las Vegas call girl named (duh) Blue.
And that really sucks.
You Suck is funny enough to reanimate Mr. Moore’s fans, at least those who wondered about the last book’s squirrel types. It’s sure to appeal to anyone who shares the author’s ideas of a fun-loving vampire’s priorities.
Moore's latest (after 2006's A Dirty Job) is a cheerfully perverse, gut-busting tale of young vampires in love. Nineteen-year-old Tommy is a bewildered hipster recently relocated to San Francisco from Incontinence, Ind. His sarcastic redhead (and bloodsucking) girlfriend, Jody, brings him into the fold of the undead ("I wanted us to be together," she says). Tommy, understandably, has mixed feelings; vampirism has its perks (you can turn to mist, live forever and the sex is awesome), but sunlight is death and blood hunger makes you do some pretty foul things. Also, the duo is hunted by Elijah, the ancient vampire who "turned" Jody and wants her back, and a band of Safeway stock boys/amateur vampire hunters known as the Animals (with whom pre-dark side Tommy once rolled). With the assistance of their devoted minion, goth girl Abby Normal, whose hilarious diary entries form part of the narrative, Tommy and Jody evade their pursuers, feeding at night and conking out at dawn, all the while learning how vampirism complicates love. Moore writes with the jittery energy of a brilliant, charming class clown, mixing sex and gore and a potty mouth with a goofy-sweet sensibility to deliver laughs on nearly every page. (Jan.) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.
A raunchy slapstick comedy of young vampires in love, Moore's sequel to Bloodsucking Fiends (1995) features Tommy and Jody trying to make an undeath for themselves after Jody kills her lover/food source, Tommy, and turns him into a vampire. They have a few problems-like finding a new food source (Chet the giant cat might not have been a good idea), recruiting minions to help them when the sun is up, and dealing with a homicidal elder vampire. There is also a blue-skinned mercenary Las Vegas prostitute, the drug-crazed band of stoners with whom Tommy used to work, the Emperor of San Francisco, and a tough-talking but hopelessly romantic and perky Goth girl named Abby Normal who sees the vampire Flood (19-year-old Tommy) as her Dark Master. Moore is in top form, and this reviewer laughed all the way through this page-turner. Enthusiastically recommended for all adult fiction collections. [See Prepub Alert, LJ 9/15/06.]-Ken St. Andre, Phoenix P.L. Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.
The biology and ethics of vampirism are revealed with frat-house gusto in Moore's fitfully entertaining tenth novel, a sequel to his 1995 romp, Bloodsucking Fiends. We're back in San Francisco, where wannabe writer C. Thomas (Tommy) Flood has gone all the way, so to speak, with his gorgeous girlfriend Jody Stroud, and joined her among the undead. The novel records their encounters with others, including Tommy's fellow Safeway employees ("the Animals"), one of whom-born-again Clint-hopes to save Tommy from the cool new life the fledgling vampire enjoys (though Tommy does have issues with "the foul, dead, blood-drinking part"). There are also variously affable and/or threatening figures, such as the homeless Emperor of San Francisco (based on a real historical character), street person William and his "huge cat" Chet, new-in-town teens Jared White Wolf and Abby Normal, a hooker named Blue (who is, in fact, painted that very color) and, hovering ominously (often upside-down) in the background, Jody's mentor (i.e., the guy who bit her first), centuries-old Elijah Ben Sapir, who "had begun this adventure thinking himself the puppet-master, now he was all entangled in the strings." This is a novel that asks the question, "What's the point of being immortal if we have to floss?" Moore handles its goofier-than-thou plot adroitly, springing a droll half-surprise at The Very End. Still, it's basically a collection of straight lines and zingers. Moore's fans won't mind much, because Tommy is as engaging as he is clueless, and his willing "minion" Abby possesses a winning combination of cheerleader pizzazz and Goth-inflected Dark Side grunge. Think of a collaboration among Anne Rice, S.J. Perelmanand Pedro Almod-var. In other words, Moore in the usual vein (jugular, that is).
Loading..."You bitch, you killed me! You suck!"
Tommy had just awakened for the first time as a vampire. He was nineteen, thin, and had spent his entire life between states of amazement and confusion.
"I wanted us to be together." Jody: pale, pretty, long red hair hanging in her face, cute swoop of a nose in search of a lost spray of freckles, a big lipstick-smeared grin. She'd only been undead herself for a couple of months, and was still learning to be spooky.
"Yeah, that's why you spent the night with him." Tommy pointed across the loft to the life-sized bronze statue of a man in a tattered suit. Inside the bronze shell was the ancient vampire who had turned Jody. Another bronze of Jody stood next to him. When the two of them had gone out at sunrise, into the sleep of the dead, Tommy had taken them to the sculptors who lived on the ground floor of his building and had the vampires bronzed. He'd thought it would give him time to think of what to do, and keep Jody from running off with the old vampire. Tommy's mistake had been drilling ear holes in Jody's sculpture so she could hear him. Somehow, during the night, before the bronzing, the old vampire had taught her to turn to mist, and she'd streamed out of the ear holes into the room, and-well-here they were: dead, in love, and angry.
"I needed toknow about what I am, Tommy. Who else was going to tell me if not him?"
"Yeah, but you should have asked me before you did this," Tommy said. "You shouldn't just kill a guy without asking. It's inconsiderate." Tommy was from Indiana, and his mother had raised him to have good manners and to be considerate of other people's feelings.
"You had sex with me while I was unconscious," Jody said.
"That's not the same," Tommy said. "I was just being friendly, like when you put a quarter in someone else's parking meter when they aren't there-you know they appreciate it later, even if they don't thank you personally."
"Yeah, wait until you go out in your jammies and wake up all sticky in a cheerleader outfit and see how grateful you are. You know, Tommy, when I'm out, technically, I'm dead. Guess what that makes you?"
"Well-uh-yeah, but you're not even human. You're just some foul dead thing." Tommy immediately regretted saying it. It was hurtful and mean, and although Jody was, indeed, dead, he didn't find her foul at all-in fact, he was pretty sure he was in love with her, he was just a little embarrassed about the whole necrophilia/cheerleader thing. Back in the Midwest people didn't mention that sort of thing unless a dog dug up a pom-pom in some guy's backyard and the police eventually discovered the whole human pyramid buried under the swing set.
Jody sniffled, completely for effect. Actually she was relieved that Tommy was now on the defensive. "Well, welcome to the Foul, Dead Thing Club, Mr. Flood."
"Yeah, you drank my blood," Tommy said. "A lot."
Damn, she should have pretended to cry. "You let me."
"Again, being considerate," Tommy said. He stood up and shrugged.
"You just let me because of the sex."
"That's not true, it was because you needed me." He was lying, it was because of the sex.
"Yes, I did," Jody said. "I still do." She held her arms out to him. "I really do."
He walked into her arms and held her. She felt amazing to him, even more amazing than she had before. It was as if his nerves had been dialed up to eleven. "Okay, it was because of the sex."
Great, she thought, in control once again. She kissed his neck. "How do you feel about it now?"
"Maybe in a minute, I'm starving." He let go of her and stormed across the loft to the kitchen, where he pulled a burrito out of the freezer, threw it into the microwave, and hit the button, all in one smooth motion.
"You don't want to eat that," Jody said.
"Nonsense, it smells great. It's like every little bean and pork piece is sending out its own delicious miasma of flavor vapor." Tommy used words like "miasma" because he wanted to be a writer. That's why he'd come to San Francisco in the first place-to take life in big bites and write about it. Oh, and to find a girlfriend.
"Put the burrito down, and back away, Tommy," Jody said. "I don't want you to get hurt."
"Ha, that's cute." He took a big bite and grinned at her as he chewed.
Five minutes later, because she felt responsible, Jody was helping him clean bits of masticated burrito off the kitchen wall and the front of the refrigerator. "It's like every bean was storming the gates of repressive digestion to escape."
"Yeah, well, being refried will do that to you," Jody said, stroking his hair. "You okay?"
"I'm starving. I need to eat."
"Not so much eat," Jody said.
"Oh my God! It's the hunger. I feel like my insides are caving in on themselves. You should have told me about this."
She knew how he felt-actually, she had felt worse when it happened to her. At least he knew what was happening to him. "Yeah, sweetie, we're going to have to make a few adjustments."
"Well, what do I do? What did you do?"
"I mostly fed off of you, remember?"
"You should have thought this through before you killed me. I'm fucked."
"We're fucked. Together. Like Romeo and Juliet, only we get to be in a sequel. Very literary, Tommy."
"Oh, that's a comfort. I can't believe you just killed me like that."
"And turned you into a superbeing, thank you very much."
"Oh, crap, there's burrito spooge all over my new sneakers."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from You Suck by Christopher Moore Copyright © 2007 by Christopher Moore. Excerpted by permission.
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