Home > Free Reads > Interview between Geoff Cooper and Brian Keene (2005)

To the casual observer, Geoff Cooper and Brian Keene’s relationship is an odd one. Cooper was best man in Keene’s wedding, and Keene is godfather to Cooper’s child. They’ve collaborated together a number of times, on everything from short stories to Jobs In Hell. Yet despite this, the two seem more like best adversaries than best friends. They constantly bicker and argue, and seem to know exactly which buttons to push on the other.

Many, including the staff here at Cemetery Dance, are surprised that they haven’t killed each other yet.

Case in point: We asked them to talk to each other about their upcoming collaborative novella, and this is what happened...

Brian Keene: Coop, are you as sick as I am of people thinking we're joined at the hip?

Geoff Cooper: Hells yes.

Keene: Then why are we doing this?

Coop: Because Rich still has those photos.

Keene: @$#&ing blackmailer...

Coop: No kidding. I KNEW we should have been more careful with the whole hooker/trout thing....

Keene: That thing with the hooker was your idea, @$#&head.

Coop: Once again, I get blamed for something you did. Anyway, let's get these @$#&ing questions done before he comes up with some more photos.

Keene: Good idea.

Coop: Of course it is. I thought of it.

Keene: How do you feel your writing has changed since the days of 4X4 and BUM PISS & OTHER CITY SCENTS?

Coop: It's become readable. How is this novella different from your previous works? Will it alienate fans of THE RISING, TERMINAL, and CITY OF THE DEAD?

Keene: It's different in that we have two and a half months to write the @$#&ing thing. But no, I don't think it will alienate my readers. They've seen me collaborate with you before, and they've liked the results. How about fans of your Brackard's Point mythos? Do you think they'll mind me playing in their sandbox?

Coop: I doubt those who are familiar with Brackard's Point will mind at all. It's a new Brackard's Point story—and those don't come around too often. Besides, I'm right here. I won't permit you to screw it up. I've seen message board threads about how one of us is going to wind up killing the other before this is all over, and I admit, there's a few valid arguments in there: we're both egomaniacs, for one—though in completely different ways—and neither of us are exactly known for passivity or softening things up in order to spare someone else's feelings. Okay, the last may apply to me more than you.

Keene: Oh kettle, thou art black.

Coop: Whatever. What's your take on such speculations?

Keene: My take? Our significant others are best friends. We live minutes from each other. We seem to spend a lot of time together. If we haven't killed each other yet—be it at the bookstore or the shooting range or on a double date to the movies, then I don't reckon we'll kill each other while in the process of writing a story. Will we fight and argue? Sure. But we fight and argue all the time, anyway. We’ll probably fight and argue before the end of this interview. Case in point—you are wrong about 28 DAYS LATER.

Coop: Oh, come ON! 28 DAYS LATER was a piece of crap. I've seen the DEAD movies, read THE STAND and BLOOD CRAZY, so I've already read—or saw—all the movie's good parts. Why, then, did I need to see this idiocy? Oh, that's right—because you thought it would be, and I quote, "something cool to do with the girls." I STILL want that hour and a half of my life back, pal.

Keene: I’m serious. Quit @$#&ing around. I think the truth is that both of us are happier when we're writing, even when we’re forced to give up some of our creative control to a collaborator. I guess the speculations out there are based more on a public persona than who we really are behind the keyboard. We're not exactly angry young men anymore.

Coop: No, not exactly. You're middle-aged. I'm still angry.

Keene: You total monkey@$#&er. You're middle-aged, too, @$#&hole. And you're so not angry—these days you whine, rather than rage.

Coop: Newsflash @$#&head: you're four years older than me, Mr. Grey-And-Balding Hypochondriac. I've still got a few years before I pass into that pasture, and when I DO, I'll still have more hair on my head than you.

Keene: Certainly more hair on your ass.

Coop: Even if it does go grey overnight, I won't be dying it. The only reason you don't dye your beard anymore is because Matt Warner busted you at one of your readings, and that was only last year.

Keene: It was two years ago!

Coop: Mike, Mikey, and I hid your beard dye right before your wedding, and we knew about it from the 2001 WHC in Sea-Tac, because we saw it there. You had to get all prettied up for your adoring fans. Now I may be creeping up on middle age, but remember: you're always going to be older than me, so get over yourself.

Brian: I may be older, but I'm also cuter. Ask your girlfriend.

Coop: Cuter? Not for nothing, but you've got a BROW RIDGE, you mother@$#&ing Neanderthal. And this bit about me whining? Oh, please. Ain't THAT the pot calling the kettle black. You've got more whines than the Bible's got psalms. Let's go over a few of them, shall we? You: "Oh, I've got cancer of the lip. Cancer of the colon, cancer of the eyelid, cancer of the nostril... I'm constipated, I'm codependent, I'm manic-depressive... I'm going into therapy, I'm going on a pill, I'm going insane... I hear voices, I see dead people, my cat is telling me what to do, I think my dog hates me, I think my dog is listening to the cat, I think the cat sees dead people..." And these were only from the last three days! I might be a neurotic freakshow, but WHINE? Get out of my sight with THAT kind of noise.

Brian: At least I've got something to @$#&ing whine about, @$#&head. "Oh woe is me. I am Coop. My existence is my own bane, and the world is black because of it. Look how angry and moody I am! Look at me, @$#& it! Everyone hates me and that pisses me off, because nobody hates me more than myself." Ya know, Coop, it's always surprised me that you listen to metal, because you're a @$#&ing poster-child for every black-wearing, Morrissey-listening, poetry-scrawling-in-little-notebook, suicidal mother@$#&er out there.

Coop: You're putting words in my mouth.

Keene: So? You put words in my mouth, too, @$#head.

Coop: I've never used the word "bane" unless referring to LORD FOUL'S. What I HAVE said is "Everything sucks all the time." So if you're going to attempt to quote me, get it correct. Furthermore, I don't think everyone hates me.

Keene: Yes you do.

Coop: Some do, sure, but I'm okay with that because last I checked I wasn't out to win a popularity contest. I'm fairly certain the Morrissey you referred to is some band, but I can't recall ever hearing anything by them. You, however, seem to be familiar enough with them to try and use it as a rip on me, so your entire argument becomes suspect. So @$#& you.

Keene: Now who’s whining? I swear to God—you've got more whine than Jesus Christ himself. "Waaa, I don't have time to write. Waaa, I don't get any sleep." You can't write? Too bad. Turn off the fucking History Channel and turn on your computer. What? Oh, that's right—you've got a permanent game of Civilization III running on your computer. Can't sleep? Boo-mother@$#&ing-hoo. Try drinking decaf, mother@$#&er. Newsflash, Cooper--you are NOT Foamy the @$#&ing squirrel, no matter how much you wish it were otherwise.

Coop: Okay, bud... YOU have your demon-spawn godchild running around like a Rhesus on acid all day long and tell me how you're doing after two weeks—let alone two years—with regards to sleep and productivity.

Keene: Next time, wear a rubber.

Coop: And I haven't played CIV III in months. You @$#&ing drama queen.

Keene: DRAMA QUEEN? @$#& you. Watch yourself, buddy, or I’ll tell everybody that you secretly own every Stryper album ever made.

Coop: Ha! You think they’ll believe that? Especially after you publicly admitted to your appreciation for Winger, Kix, and Journey?

Keene: I’m not the one with the Xanadu Official Motion Picture Soundtrack in his basement.

Coop: And you ever tell ANYBODY about that, I’ll tell them about the one place on your body where you still HAVE hair.

Keene: Okay, truce. Now, let's get back to this interview.

Coop: Yes. Have some.

Keene: Okay. Let's pretend—pretend, mind you—that there's somebody out there, a loyal Cemetery Dance customer perhaps, who has not yet had the pleasure of reading our work. What reason can you give them to order this still untitled and unfinished novella? Why should they give it a try, especially after your abhorrent behavior in this interview?

Coop: I'd say there are a few good reasons to order this. The strict limitation of the hardcovers, for one. Only enough are being printed to cover the pre-orders, so it's not like there's going to be many on the aftermarket. To get a hardcover of our last collaborative effort, "Wild Kingdom," (from 4X4) a reader might spend upwards of $500 on eBay. (Yes, that's five hundred dollars. No, I am not kidding.). It's a safe assumption that the aftermarket price of this novella will be far above what CD is asking for it—and you get a boatload of coupons also. Financially, it's a no-brainer.

Keene: I agree. But what about the story itself?

Coop: It's solid. While it is true that I'm biased in saying so—obviously—and it is still incomplete, I can tell you it's got that which CD customers have come to expect over the years: dark crime-ish elements coupled with the supernatural, and the supernatural elements that ARE involved are not stock-horror items. No zombies, no werewolves, vampires, haunted houses, any of that. Your average small-press reader likes a new method, provided that method WORKS, and I'm certain that which we're going to do in here will work. I'm putting my name on the thing, so it'd better. I know there are a LOT of CD customers that wouldn't know us if we bit them on the nose, but I don't think they're going to be disappointed, is what I'm saying. Our regular readers will need less convincing, but they won't be let down, either.

Keene: I hope they don’t shy away simply because it’s a collaboration. I’ve collaborated with you, Mike, Mikey, Tim Lebbon, and others, and you’ve collaborated with most of the same. I’ve always felt that, in the case of you and I, we force each other to do our best work, simply because of the antagonistic nature of the collaboration itself.

Coop: Some collaborations have a noticeable split where one author breaks and the other takes over. Many readers find this annoying. As with "Wild Kingdom," this new one will have no such split. How it works with us is like this: Brian writes a scene. I re-write it, give it a nudge in the direction it's supposed to go (and if there's any question about this, we discuss it), then turn him loose again. With me doing all the re-writes, there's no jarring break as in other collaborations, so it's easier on the reader. We both wind up having our say, and though we may come close to blows during the process, the end result is worth the price of admission. At least, I think so.

Keene: I do, too. And all joking around and arguing aside, at the end of the day, we both give our best as a result, because we respect the reader—and we respect each other. Wouldn’t you agree?

Coop: Yeah, I respect you. Now go to the store and get me a pack of smokes, @$#&head.

Keene: @$#& you. Want to go to the range and shoot things?

Coop: @$#& it. Why not? We can work on the novella later.