Dear Dean Koontz,

We need to talk.

Back in Grade Nine I found a book via a church yard sale (lovingly placed next to the Playboy Interview with John Lennon) that quickly became one of my favourite horror novels. At night when I slept on the hide-a-bed in the basement, in between working out what colour of overall I would wear to school the next day and whether or not Seventeen magazine would be okay with me wearing Nan's Pink Confetti shade of lipstick because I'd spent all of my potential makeup money on the new Spice Girls CD, I would devour Phantoms.

From the small town overcome with mass disappearances to the troubled romance between Sherriff and Doctor, to the wonderful questionably historical information pertaining to the Virginia settlement, et al, Phantoms was superb and took precedence over all of my homework, including that really big History project I did on the entire decade of the 50's.

And then came the movie. I can't say much because I actually own this movie, as in ... spent a whopping $1.99 towards it's purchase, but I can shake my head disappointedly and say, "Ben Affleck, Dean Koontz? Ben Affleck?" before falling into a desolate heap against the wood pannelled basement walls, weeping as my faith in humankind leaks from my eyes and falls in tattered ruins to the floor.

Did you like that Dean Koontz? Don't steal it. I know how you roll.

So I was listening to Twilight Eyes tonight on Audio Book, which is what I do when I'm at work and emtpying garbages, cleaning sinks and dancing around like a nut with the vaccuum. (Plus, just between you and me, Mr. Koontz, the last time I tried listening to that Deja Vu song by Beyonce I started singing along and gyrating around ... and that's when I ran into one of the night employees. Staring. Backing away. Possibly confusing my keen sense of rhythm and daring interpretation of every So You Think You Can Dance move for insanity, boldly brandishing my Fantastik Orange Spray like a makeshift Antibacterial microphone. ... What I'm saying is, audio books require a fraction less shimmying.)

But I'm listening to Twilight Eyes and suddenly I hear: "a dog mouthed goblin ramming it's vilely deformed penis into the cold and mutant vagina of a red eyed and pig snouted bitch."

WHAT?

WHAT, DEAN KOONTZ? "Mutant Vagina", Dean Koontz?

I swear this might be worse than reading Darkfall.

Also, I would really appreciate it if you left sex scenes out of your next books on tape. If I have to hear the smooth and silky baritoned voice of the Reader talk dirty one more time I may vomit. Not to even mention your / his frivolous usage of the word "seed". No one should say "seed" unless they are planting SEEDS or buying SEEDS, and even then... it's questionable.

I'd say keep up the good work but ... Ben Affleck, Dean Koontz? Ben Affleck?

Love,
Sarah

PS: I forgot about Intensity. That is a great book and an even better made for TV movie. The shellshocked little girl screaming "BADGER!" across the room made me laugh so hard my mother called me "heartless".

PPS: Badger reminds me of a story my Uncle Ron once told me, wherein my Uncle Gord woke up to find a badger rummaging through a bucket of chicken he had on his desk, the badger running off with a chicken bone much to the hilarity of all. Likely it was more like a muskrat, though. Or Uncle Ron.

Labels: Open Letters