Hooked on Hugh Laurie

Most of you are familiar with Hugh Laurie's work as the sarcastic yet brilliant doctor in the Fox TV series "House." Ardent TV addicts also know him from his recurring role with Rowan Atkinson in the BBC series the "Black Adder." But few, I suppose, are also acquainted with Thomas Lang, the protagonist of Laurie's exciting and hysterically funny, spy thrilling, CIA bashing novel, "The Gun Seller." Your loss.

If you like a good adventure story, the kind where a not so successful but clever, bright and witty hero, who reminds you of yourself in so many ways, then I highly recommend Mr. Laurie's novel, for which he also wrote a screenplay that is, according to the author, currently "under consideration as a major motion picture" — for the past ten years.

Thoroughly delighted and intrigued by "The Gun Seller," I have just sent the following letter to Mr. Laurie. Well, not to him directly but to his literary agent. Studios and publishers refuse to release the actual mailing addresses of their artistes for fear someone from the real world might actually contact them causing the actor or writer in question to lose a little of their fantasy world quality and cause their handlers to lose a lot of their filthy green lucre.

"Dear Mr. Laurie,
I have just finished reading your novel, "The Gun Seller," which I loved and couldn't put down until I absolutely, positively had to brush my teeth. I was amazed at how well you captured my character when, to the best of my knowledge, we've not actually met in a, you know, physical, eyeball-to-eyeball sort of way. My reaction to your craft is, to paraphrase Fred Allen, that I want to take my pen and put the quill back in the goose.
PLEASE, write another.
I know, I know, you're a star in a smash hit TV series, hundreds of people count on your theatrical chops to put food on the table, and you find yourself having to shoehorn your familial duties into your schedule as it is. This is all, I'm sure, true and tiring, and the price of being very good at what you do. But I suggest you might view this situation through different looking glass.

On "House" you get to save one, maybe two, lives a week at the best. At the same time, the stress and strain of interacting with your character's acerbic personality is undoubtedly hastening the suicide or, at least, shortening the life span of all the other characters. On the other hand, the systemic value of the adrenalin rush your novel provides, added to the well-documented value of pitting humor against sickness, would contribute to the health, well-being and extended lifespan of maybe thousands of readers. One, for sure: me.

 I'm hoping this personal plea will prompt you to pick up pen and paper and immediately begin another novel. This will delight all the readers of your previous work, and relieve me of the burden of having to threaten you with clever plots designed to cause you to submit to my will and whim.
Yours in alter-ego, John"

While waiting for Mr. Laurie to act on my request, I find myself entering what must only be the earliest stages of severe addiction withdrawal. My hands will start shaking for no reason and I'll pick up any reading material just to calm my nerves. Last week I found myself reading Vogue, the large-print edition. After the sardonic wit of Laurie's Thomas Lang, even my real friends seem too two-dimensional.
I have pretty much devoured the works of Tim Dorsey and several of Carl Hiaasen's novels. This extra-Laurie activity has taken the edge off my angst but the other writer's protagonists are less sophisticated and urbane that Mr. Laurie's — in other words, less like me. The same goes for the people who populate Elmore Leonard's universe.

If any of you have hidden away favorite authors who write in this genre, please let me know. It may be a long wait for Hugh's reply.     
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