This interview was conducted over the course of three visits to see Mr. Thurman at the Rehabilitation Ward on the fifth floor of Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow in Cleveland.
INTERVIEWER: Mr. Thurman, it’s so nice to, um, be here. I think.
WT: Who the hell are you? Get off my property! Go on, git!
INTERVIEWER: Please, sir, get off the chair. You’re scaring the other patients.
WT: Fine.
INTERVIEWER: What’s it like, being a world class author and nominee for the Nobel Prize?
WT: Huh?
INTERVIEWER: Oh, sorry. I have my notes mixed up here. I’m meeting with someone else tomorrow. Ah, here it is. Let’s see. It says here that you’ve been writing since the year 2000.
WT: Damn skippy.
INTERVIEWER: Do you enjoy writing?
WT: More than anything. Except possibly Ny-Quil.
INTERVIEWER: Is there a common theme that you find running through your books?
WT: No.
INTERVIEWER: Would you like there to be a theme?
WT: No.
INTERVIEWER: How do you view yourself?
WT: In a mirror. What kind of questions are these?
INTERVIEWER: Do you have any sort of latent childhood memories that have caused you to produce the sort of fiction you write?
WT: You mean like when I was two and shoved my mom’s keys into an electrical outlet? That sort of thing?
WT: Other than the voluntary shock treatments I gave myself after that first episode, no, nothing comes to mind.
INTERVIEWER: You ever fantasize about bludgeoning small animals with a rolling pin?
WT: No, but that does sound like fun. Does it pay well?
INTERVIEWER: Other than over the counter cough suppressants, are there any other drugs that you currently abuse?
WT: Nah. Cough syrup gives me the drug and alcohol problem most writers develop after years of solitary endeavors, and all in one convenient, cherry flavored package. They even provide the shot glass.
INTERVIEWER: I find it fascinating that you are able to write novels, given your low intelligence and genetic predisposition towards napping.
WT: It’s a constant struggle. Much like watching golf on television.
INTERVIEWER: What’s you favorite color?
WT: Velvet.
INTERVIEWER: What is your favorite curse word?
WT: Parfait.
INTERVIEWER: If heaven exists, what would you like to hear at the pearly gates?
WT: I’m dead? I’M DEAD?! Was it a nice funeral?
INTERVIEWER: I have no response to that.
An interview with Walter Thurman.