Think of it like a reality TV show, except only online, and without all the prize money and you read it and it isn’t anywhere near as exciting, yet all of the contestants walk away with their dignity (to some degree, that is: we can’t promise anything).
2. Who can post to the Where the Bad Kids Go Blog?
Anyone. As long as you are fascinating but don’t necessarily assume that you are fascinating, because that, in turn, renders you less than fascinating.
3. What happens when I die?
Your “you-ness” will expire, but your subjective self will cease to exist as well, meaning that you will not mourn your own loss, as there will be no ego apparatus left to note your own passing. Your corporeal self will decompose to the base elements out of which it arose, nourishing insects, small animals, soil, vegetation, and countless forms of bacteria. Some other stuff happens too, but I couldn’t really make it out, what with the brilliant tunnel of light and beckoning relatives.
4. If Tonto and Kato were to have a fight to the death, who would win?
This would truly be an exciting contest, as both combatants would bring unique skills and rich cultural traditions to the ring. Tonto has the proud blood of the Native American coursing through his veins and a resourcefulness reflective of his people and their relationship to the Earth. Kato is an expert in a variety of martial arts and, as the Green Hornet’s sidekick, has a shrewd understanding of modern-day battle techniques. Yet after several minutes of fierce combat, both Tonto and Kato would soon realize that it is the White Man who has organized this blood struggle, and – after a brief discussion of strategy – the two would band together, waging a ferocious circus of slaughter against the well-heeled, principally Caucasian attendees of the Great Fight.
5. What is the goal of the Where the Bad Kids Go Blog?
To bring people together, to foster harmony and delight, to showcase the latest, greatest happenings in the (under)world of Heck, to entertain with a vengeance, and to find a cure for the common pancake. (I guess that is more than just one goal. Sorry.)
6. Is bringing a child into this world selfish and cruel?
Considering the swollen world population, the degenerative spiral of civilization in general and the inevitability of global catastrophe…nah, kids are fun and cool. The more the merrier!
7. What is the best way to clean a deer?
The best way to clean a deer is to casually mention to your hunting companion that you thought you saw the deer ingest several diamonds. By morning, your deer should be cleaned and, if there are indeed any diamonds in the pile of entrails, take them and assume a new identity.
8. When is the Where the Bad Kids Go Blog updated?
Seldom.
9. Why do I keep tasting almonds?
You have either just eaten almonds or still have trace amounts of undigested almond on or about your gums, causing mysterious flavor. If you haven’t eaten almonds recently, perhaps the part of your brain that remembers flavor is more highly- developed than that of the average person, and you are experiencing an acute almond “flashback.” The most likely cause, however, is that a close friend, family member or caregiver is trying to poison you.
It was so much fun going to your reading and I got there right when you started the Mad Libs.
Thanks for signing my books now they ROCK even more then before.
Oh and I have been working on this:
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( ‘_’)
(> )>o I was going to give you a Heck book
U..U
….(\_/)
….(‘_’ )
.o<( <) But then i was like…
….U..U
…(\_/)
.(O__O)
. (>o<) I LIKE HECK BOOKS!!!
. U….U
(\_/)
( ‘_’)
(> )>o Then i said: sharing is good….
U..U
….(\_/)
….(‘_’ )
.o<( <) But then i was like…
….U..U
Portland journalist Andrew Klaus interviewed me the other day for his blog, Digging to China. It was a fun opportunity to answer smartly asked questions with smart-alecky answers. Here it is: Dale Basye knows where Bad Kids Go.
Author Dale Basye is scary smart and witty as hell, two things that make him perfect to write for the ever growing “Young Adult” market, kids books that parents swipe and read on their lunch breaks. Heck: Where Bad Kids Go caught my eye on a bookstore shelf, I read the opening sentence of the dustcover involving Milton and Marlo Fauster’s deaths in a tragic Marshmallow Bear explosion… I stopped reading knew I had found something special and bought the book, AND a year later it’s sequel Rapacia. Heck tells the tale of innocent boy Milton and his less than innocent sister Marlo in the afterlife of Heck, a limbo boarding school where bad kids go and classes such as ethics are taught by Richard Nixon and Home Economics by Lizzie Borden . While not for everyone (apparently) I’d highly recommend Heck for a clever slightly dark and twisted good time especially this Halloween season. Diggin’ to China was lucky enough to sit down with the creator of Heck and chat about controversy, children’s lit , monkeys versus robots, and more.
Your novels Heck and Rapacia are filled with high brow references and literary allusion next to low brow potty humor, which is a brilliant combo by the way- have there ever been cameos and in-jokes that were too obscure or too high brow to work in that you wished you could?
Dale Basye: Yes, perhaps too many to mention. Ayn Rand was going to make an appearance as the Chairperson of the Netherworld Soul Exchange in Rapacia, which made sense to me, but—in the end—it seemed far more compelling to have Mammon—the devil of covetousness employed by Dante—serve that role instead. Usually the teachers had more interactions with one another initially (I had a scene with Richard Nixon and Bea “Elsa” Bubb, the Principal of Darkness, in the teacher’s lounge in the first Heck book that I had to cut due to gratuitous Watergate references) and those scenes are usually trimmed. In general, whenever I have scenes that focus too heavily on adults, they are the first to go. Most of my favorite references make it in, though, such as Milton’s sign in the Cafeterium: “Milton’s Pair of Dice: Lost.” That’s perhaps my favorite. I’m learning that action is the key to keeping these books moving and many of my “ooh, isn’t that clever?”-isms just slow things down unless they serve the story. Still, I’ll find a way to wedge them into something else…I’m big on recycling, living in Portland and all.
Years ago (nearly ten) I worked at a bookstore and someone returned Alice Sebold’s The Lovely Bones as it offended her religious beliefs teachings of “heaven”Since your tales are set in a rather unconventional afterlife have you had any backlash from more conservative factions of the populous?
DB: Initially, when the first Heck book came out, there was a website in Texas called BeliefNet that lambasted the book. Of course, no one had read it, and they were literally judging the book by its cover. There have also been some appalling reviews on Amazon that my ever-rationalizing mind is desperate to chalk up to fundamentalism. I mean, if you go through the trouble of posting a long, one-star rant, clearly a button has been pushed. Recently, my publicist at Random House began booking my book tour and the aptly named Page at Barnes and Noble in Clackamas tried to book schools in her school district for appearances and was told that they would not have a book titled Heck in their school! Luckily the Beaverton School District was much more open-minded, especially just after Banned Book Week, and I had a great time visiting schools there. I find it startling when I encounter that rigid thinking. My opinion is that the Heck books, even if you find them in direct conflict with your religious views, invite discussion, which is the proper place for religious and spiritual exchanges, not a book (unless, of course, it’s THE book). It’s not like I’m really conjuring up anything new…I simply take all of the myths, references, and figures available and make a sort of kid-centric collage out of them. I mean, it’s not like I invented the notion of everlasting torment for sinful transactions (but man, if I did, I would have patented it and made billions!). Really: where DO bad kids fit in the Judeo-Christian system of things? If I were a fundamentalist parent, I would be delighted that my child was reading something that even mentioned such things…got them thinking about their spirituality. I would use it as an opportunity to help my child figure out his or her own personal beliefs. But there aren’t as many engaged parents as we really need in this world. I think it’s lame that parents think a book or movie or videogame should do the parenting for them. I also think the Heck books provide a wonderful opportunity to discuss obscure historical figures. I doubt if many kids today know who Nixon, Lizzy Borden, or the pirate Grace O’Malley were…but perhaps, after reading about them in Heck, they—perhaps with a little help from their parents—might nose around another book and learn more. In general, I was expecting a bit more controversy, actually. I even got Random House to print Heck and Rapacia in an environmentally friendly, clean-burning paper to help fundamentalist groups hold more responsible book burnings.
Why do you think Kids/Young Adult fiction has boomed as of late?
DB: Because being an adult sucks. So why wallow in it by rubbing your face in an adult book? I just think that you can approach so many more interesting, potentially controversial subjects in YA fiction these days, versus the ossified realm of adult fiction. It’s like the wild west, where anything and everything is possible because kids are so on the ball these days, eager to tackle difficult subjects and themes because they haven’t learned that they shouldn’t yet. The line is really blurry between YA and adult, which is a good thing because that’s how it is in real life. It’s just an exciting place to be. Young fiction plays a much more significant role in helping to form a reader’s foundation than adult fiction. The books that really meant something to me were almost all read as a teen or young adult. Much of the adult stuff I read lately just seems so pretentious and precious and self-serving, much more about the author than the story. But, then again, I don’t read much adult fiction these days anyhow. A macro view may be that, in the modern world, adults have less time to read overall, with technology taking hungry megabytes out of what little time they/we have. Children have a little more time, though not much, to devote to reading, and they do so voraciously.
Choose: Monkeys versus Robots? (Robot monkey cannot be your answer as I already called that)
DB: Without a doubt, robots: pneumatic grappling claws down. Robots are cool (I’m currently working on a robot book now, it just so happens) but it’s more to do with the fact that monkeys creep me out. Seriously. I can’t make eye contact with them at the zoo: that imploring look they give you that seems to say “I’m just a few DNA strands away from you…you better watch your back or I’m liable to take a big chunk out of your bald back!” Monkeys are just wrong: scat-slinging, chattering simian chumps!
Do you have any writing rituals? Music that you listen too while you write?
DB: Before sitting down to write, I typically pour myself a sifter of Mendis brandy and sacrifice a small helpless animal to the writing gods. Actually, I used to surround myself with creepy surreal art (like Mark Ryden) and hunker down to work behind a hulking, imposing desk in the dark, blasting if-it-ain’t-Baroque-don’t-fix-it music. But I’ve discovered I’m not much of a method writer. There just isn’t any time. Plus, after hours of industrial and Goth music, I feel more like jumping off a bridge than making some kid on the other side of the page shoot chocolate milk out of his nose. Usually I just shuffle my music library, which is heavy on Brit Pop and ska at the moment. I can’t listen to overly wordy music (sorry Elvis Costello) or else I get derailed, and soundtrack music usually sends me to sleep, so I keep it eclectic…until Van Halen’s Panama pops up then I have to stop everything for an air guitar solo (which can be embarrassing as I often work in coffee shops). I try to listen to new music, but after a couple of tracks, I’m reminded of better, older bands that the currently hot band ripped off and I just go to the source.
You are a parent I understand. Has that changed your work ethic/way you work?
DB: Thank you for being so understanding about my status as a parent. Considering I haven’t been writing fiction for that long, my role as a parent hasn’t really been all that affected. Time is an issue since I prefer to be with my real son than make up pretend people in a book, but thankfully there’s this thing called “school” that usually gives me enough time to hammer something out during the day. I can’t really work at home when my son is around, since our house is just as smidgen larger than ones typically composed of gingerbread. Usually I go to one of several coffee shops that haven’t kicked me out and work until I get the sense that I must leave. Usually one cup of coffee equals roughly two and a half hours of rent at a coffee shop, I’ve found. Anything more and you receive the surly look that only a hardened barista can deliver. I was laid off from my advertising job six months ago, so I have more flexibility (the yoga helps too). I still do a lot of corporate freelancing as this author thing doesn’t really pay the bills on its own. I can’t help but think that there’s a more efficient, more rewarding way of writing, but I haven’t found it yet. I used to try working at odd hours, but I just can’t handle it. If I work too late then my mind gets going and sleep is impossibility. Too early and it’s like trying to turn over a ’63 Thunderbird on a cold winter’s morning. Usually I have a few productive hours between 10 and 3, then I’m kind of burned out and do other things, like interpretive dance, panhandling, shrieking belligerent poems at passersbys, and getting arrested.
oKAY I NEED 2 KNOW WHERE YOU WERE BORN AND IF ANY EVENTS IN YOUR LIFE HAD EFECTED YOU WHEN YOU WROTE THIS
Hi Madison,
I—like many people—was born in Dallas, Texas. It’s OK: it happens to the best of us (and the worst of us, apparently). I was born somewhere between the popularization of fire and Red Vines.
Events that affected me writing Rapacia? Most every event in my life led to the physical writing of the book, if you think about it. But I’m sure you mean the events that affected the plot line, specifically. Growing up, the only thing to really do was to hang out at the mall. Even though we never had any money, it’s what we all did, which is rather pointless since we either were wasting our time around things we didn’t want or torturing ourselves drooling over things we couldn’t afford! So this conundrum probably formed the basis of Mallvana: a place so wonderful and glittering and perfect and awesome that it is either Heaven to some, or Heck to others, depending on your particular circumstances (and credit limit). And, like Marlo, I have—as a teen—run into a few sticky situations in which certain material items found in a store somehow made it to my backpack. But only a couple and—on both occasions—I did an even more daring act of returning them. In fact, sometimes me and my friends would commit acts of reverse shoplifting, where we would smuggle stuff that we didn’t want into a store—weird stuff—and put it on the shelves. And, like the first book, most of the turmoil and horror comes from my experiences in middle school, a place that isn’t full of fun and laughter like elementary school, but without the respect and promise of high school. A place that feels like eternity—and actually is—at least for a little while.
Adding Rapacia to the ever-growing Heck library…OK, just two now, but eventually more and more and way too much.
…weird cool, but still weird. I just got my big, beautiful box of fresh Rapacia: The Second Circle of Heck books in the mail, saw Bob Dob’s freakin’ gorgeous cover for the next book, Blimpo: The Third Circle of Heck, and just turned in my first draft of Fibble: The Fourth Circle of Heck, which will be out Spring/Summer 2011!
It’s like I’m living three lives simultaneously.
And, you would think—after toiling several months over Fibble—I’d take a moment to relax. But no. I was at the dentist, and as he was trying to cram as much steel, cardboard, and whatever he had strewn around his office into my mouth, I started thinking about all these cool ideas for Snivel: The Fifth Circle of Heck. Geez…brain, give me a break!
Oh well…it’s time to dress my dogs in their little dinner jackets. We like a formal dinner around here.
Well, I just got back from speaking to the sixth graders of Meadow Park Middle School in Beaverton, Oregon. I have to say, it’s been a while since I’ve encountered such an attentive, enthusiastic, and respectful bunch! I spoke at their morning assembly, playing the Heck song on my trusty, rusty guitar, inflicting my feeble PowerPoint skillz upon them, reading a chapter, then ending with a new creative writing exercise I may incorporate into “my act.” I picked five brave students to join me on stage and write a couple of sentences on notecards I had prepared. The notecards began and ended with sentences I had written, in this case, detailing the horrors of a rabid monkey outbreak at their school. The ending sentence of one card was the beginning of the next, so that—when finished—we had all created a story! After going through a box of my nifty new Heck cards and singing some autographs, I was interviewed by Meadow Park’s film and video club. Perhaps, if I’m not too embarrassed at the sight of myself first thing in the morning embarking upon a series of unfortunate tangents, I may post the video. Again, thanks to the students, distinguished faculty, and not-so distinguished faculty that made this appearance possible!
Here is the story we wrote at Meadow Park:
“Someone capture those monkeys before they sling pop everywhere!” shrieked Mrs. Hattendorf as she ran down the hall. As the monkeys ran down the hall they were making a titanic size ball of poop. Then Mr. Whitten came into view playing “We Will Rock You” on the flute to stop the monkeys. But then he was engulfed in the titanic size ball of poop.
But no one had seen Mr. Whitten for hours. No one.
No one cared, but hey thought he went to Heck. And they thought he turned crazy. The Devil made Mr. Cookson his assistant.
The mad gleam in Mr. Cookson’s eyes ignited the fear of the students trapped in the janitor’s closet. Ripping us out of the closet to Ms. Williams. Then Ms. Williams tied us to a chair and force-fed us.
“You haven’t lived until you’ve eaten stewed monkey meat!” Ms. Williams said, licking her lips.
Ms. Williams jumped off the walls and said that she loved the stew. Then Ms. Williams walked down the hall with her clacking high heels, just as Mr. Doyle had corralled all of the rabid monkeys into Ms. Valentine’s office. But was it a case of too little, too late?
Then the monkeys ran rampaging out of the office, after breaking up the office into smashed pieces.
“Where would these monkeys go when they die, anyway?” asked Mrs. Hattendorf to no one in particular, before shrieking “Someone capture those monkeys before they sling poop everywhere!” as she ran down the hall.
…which is a terrifying thought. It begs the question “what music would endow land mass with unnatural life?” Is this even morally sound? Not the sound of music, per se, but the ability to animate rocks and dirt? It’s just creepy. Speaking of which, here is one of a series of Heck-based musical numbers I will be posting in the weeks to come. This first song is a little ditty called Christmas at Grizzy Mall which, to the best of my knowledge, is about Christmas at Grizzly Mall. Enjoy, or at least grudgingly tolerate.
