Cryptozoology at the Decatur Book Festival, Decatur, Georgia, September 1, 2018
I’m Kim Osborn Sullivan, and I’m a cryptozoologist. For
those of you who aren’t familiar with the term, a cryptozoologist is one of
those people who lurks around the wilderness in search of cryptids, which are
creatures that science says don’t exist. Some examples of cryptids are the Loch
Ness Monster, the Jersey Devil, Mothman, and my favorite, Bigfoot.
Full disclosure: I’m a lousy cryptozoologist. I’ve never
actually seen a cryptid. Bigfoot doesn’t pelt me with acorns when I’m in the
forest, sea serpents don’t pose for my camera, and giant prehistoric sharks
called megaladons don’t swim up alongside my boat. Not that I have a boat. I’m
afraid of sharks regardless of their size, and it’s hard to get eaten by a
shark if you never leave central Georgia.
Whether you’re a good cryptozoologist or a crummy one (like
me), it’s a terrific hobby. Even if you spend the whole day hunting for
cryptids and turn up empty, you’ve still had a relaxing day with plenty of
fresh air and good cardio. You don’t even need any expensive equipment. I
bought this fancy shirt that tells the world I’ve “Gone Squatchin’” (which is
the cryptozoologists’ term for searching for sasquatch), but this shirt wasn’t
required. I could wear pajamas and get the same results.
One day when I was out squatchin, I got to thinking about
the thousands of bigfoot sightings that are reported every year in the United
States. They come from across the country, from the Pacific Northwest of Oregon
and Washington down to Florida where they call Bigfoot a “skunk ape.” This
undignified name must have evolved because Florida is so hot that even their
Bigfoot get sweaty and stinky.
Anyway, it occurred to me that, despite all those bigfoot
sightings, no one has found any dead bodies. There have been some hoaxes, but
nothing real. How could that be? Is it possible that Bigfoot doesn’t exist and
all those thousands of people are delusional or are playing hoaxes on each
other? I refuse to believe that. Or is there just one immortal bigfoot that
somehow transports himself around the country at will, showing himself to a
Nebraska cattle rancher one day and a California logger the next? Seems
farfetched, even to someone like me who believes there’s a prehistoric sea
serpent floating around Loch Ness in Scotland. There has to be some other
explanation.
You see the kinds of deep thoughts that happen when you’re
out squatchin’? Do you suppose you can generate thoughts like these if you
don’t wear the special t-shirt? Maybe, but I’m not willing to risk it.
This line of thinking is what led me to write my new young
adult novel BIGFOOT CSI. It’s a funny, exciting book about 16-year-old Piper
O’Connell from the small town of Senoia, Georgia who discovers that she’s part
of an elite group of people who have the ability to track down the bodies of
dead bigfoot. Once she finds them, she uses specialized tools to destroy them. Since
Piper has this rare ability, she realizes that she must use it to help keep the
bigfoot race secret from human hunters who would capture or kill the creatures
if they knew that they exist. The job is dangerous and the hours stink, but
there’s one big advantage: Piper’s tall, dark, and genetically complicated
partner named Sam. He’s a hybrid—which means half bigfoot, half human—and it’s
his job to help Piper protect the race of bigfoot.
BIGFOOT CSI is a novel, which means it’s not a true story.
That’s different from many of the nonfiction bigfoot books out there that focus
on people’s reports of encounters with the big guy.
For a change of pace, I wanted to write a novel that
answered my questions about where the dead Bigfoot bodies go, so I researched cryptid
reports from across the country to create a story that accurately reflects the
bigfoot behaviors according to eyewitnesses. For instance, the creatures
sometimes leave gifts of pretty stones or animal parts for people they like.
They sometimes throw rocks at people they don’t like. They move silently and
quickly, they make vocal noises, but aren’t as verbal as humans. Some people
say they smell musky. Some say they stink. I incorporated as many of those
details as I could while writing an entertaining story, and now I’d love it if
you’d read the book.
I’ll be signing copies at the table back there, and I’d love
to sign one for you. I also want to talk cryptozoology. If you have any stories
about seeing Bigfoot, or the Loch Ness Monster tipping your boat (for those of
you daredevils who sail), I’d love to hear them. Been abducted by aliens? Bring
it on!
Thanks for spending part of your day here. Have a terrific
time at the Decatur Book Fair!
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