Gary Buslik is not your average author. Let’s just say he’s unusual. The best to begin with are his book titles:
- A Rotten Person Travels the Caribbean: A Grump in Paradise Discovers that Anyplace it’s Legal to Carry a Machete is Comedy Waiting to Happen
- Akhmed and the Atomic Matzo Balls: A Novel of International Intrigue, Pork-Crazed Termites, and Motherhood
- The Missionary’s Position: A hilarious novel set in the Caribbean
Some of his stuff made me laugh so hard I snorted. I was pleased when Buslik graciously agreed to an interview. Oh, and he is also a teacher which makes me a little nervous.
Dorri Olds: Akhmed and the Atomic Matzo Balls is a demented book. Are you that funny in person?
Gary Buslik: No.
How did you get so funny in your writing?
Sometimes I’ll wake up out of a deep sleep to see my cat an inch from my face, staring at me. And the next morning I write funny stuff. So, obviously, she’s doing something to my mind while I’m sleeping.
Um, your cat hypnotizes you?
There’s a lot modern science doesn’t understand. I’m dating a woman now who believes in Kabbalah and human sacrifice. She thinks in a former life my cat was the writer Joyce James.
Do you mean James Joyce?
She’s dyslexic.
There are no good guys in Akhmed. All the characters are, as you might say, “bumbling nincompoops.” Is that how you feel about most people?
Everyone except my cat.
Your books are unusual and run willy nilly but seem to all come back together at the end. How do you do that?
My cat.
OK, let’s move on.
Let’s.
How did you come up with nuclear matzo balls?
My cousin Linda makes matzo balls the size of the first atomic bomb.
Your smartest characters aren’t humans, they’re insects. How did you come up with that?
I set up a lawn chair in my backyard.
I wasn’t asking about the bugs. What about humans?
I set up a lawn chair in my English Department lunchroom.
Do you enjoy teaching?
I’m going to read real—no kidding—excerpts from my students’ essays.
“The poet is comparing what it feels like to be pregnant with many different metaphors.”
“The formal term for the sonnet’s meter is titanic exterminator.”
“Shakespeare is famous for being well-known.”
“Shakespeare’s imagery is awesome. It was like he was stoned at a very young age.”
“The name of Shakespeare’s acting company was F-Troop.”
“The quest for perfect love is a manmade goal, just like in hockey.”
“In Donne’s poem “The Flea,” the speaker is trying to save the flea’s life by describing it as a symbol of marriage. But the woman kills the flea by murdering his literary symbol.”
“I would rate Othello two thumbs up. I would definitely make my girlfriend see it instead of that Julia Roberts shit.”
So, Dorri, you tell me.
Alrighty then, so moving right along, how did you get started as a writer?
For the first three years of college I lied to my parents, telling them I was in pre-law. When I finally got outed as an English major, my mother couldn’t stop sobbing, and my father strode around the house shouting, “Big man! He knows the parts of speech!” So I wound up homeless, hanging around the airport reciting Rudyard Kipling for spare change. It was there I met a veteran travel writer, who took pity on me and showed me how, by making hotel and restaurant owners naively believe I would write good reviews about them, I could get free rooms, meals, and drinks. So I went on to forge a useless degree into a rewarding lifestyle.
What’s happening with your travel writing?
My travel-writing careered stalled because, not liking foreigners or new experiences, I despise traveling. I especially dislike countries that have children.
Is that why you write fiction now?
After a few years of travel writing, I settled down to write novels, however, I soon discovered that fiction writing presents its own challenges—for example, the strong urge to kill myself. To stave off artistic depression, I occasionally concentrate on nonwriting endeavors, such as trying to convince my father to make me his sole beneficiary.
Gary, thanks for cracking me up. You’re so funny and so are your books.