The better to eat you with, my dear

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So I was talking with my buddy Alyosha, another read-alikes writer for NoveList. He had just landed a plum of an assignment, Thomas Harris, author of the Hannibal Lecter series. I was intensely jealous, but honestly it’s best that I don’t write the piece on him. See, while most people think of Harris as a writer of serial killer novels, I tend to think of him as a romance writer. Seriously. Don’t believe me? Read Hannibal. (Don’t cheat by watching the movie. It sucked. Silence of the Lambs is a great film. Hannibal is not.)

Alyosha was incredulous that I consider Harris to be a romance writer.

"In Hannibal, maybe," he conceded.

"Oh, it was there in Silence of the Lambs," I said. "I saw it coming."

"Yeah, but Lecter’s such a monster. He’s a murderer. He’s a cannibal."

"That’s what makes it great," I explained. "There’s all this psycho-sexual tension between Lecter and Starling."

"True," said Alyosha. "Starling has a great dilemma: Is he going to eat me, or is he going to eat me?"

I swear, librarians are so cool. If that’s not the best book joke ever… Just wish I could take credit for it.

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