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Bruce Tierney

Mystery & Suspense

Enter Meg Gardiner

Review by Bruce Tierney

Shortly after being offered the assignment of reviewing Meg Gardiner's latest book, The Dirty Secrets Club, I was visiting an American friend in Tokyo and discovered the first Gardiner book, China Lake, on his bookshelf. The novel was a veritable roller coaster ride from page one. The protagonist, Evan Delaney, neatly splits the difference between Sue Grafton's feisty Kinsey Millhone and Robert Eversz's edgy Nina Zero. I finished it in short order, and was left eager to read The Dirty Secrets Club. Although her novels are set in her native California, Gardiner makes her home in England, and until now her books have been largely unavailable stateside. As Gardiner explained in our email interview, "The novels have been out in the rest of the English-speaking world since 2002, but weren't on sale in the USA. Then luck intervened, loudly" – Stephen King wrote a column praising Gardiner's books in Entertainment Weekly. The next week, "10 American publishers wanted to publish the Evan Delaney series, along with The Dirty Secrets Club," says Gardiner. "I was blown away." American readers will now have the chance to experience one of the finest contemporary writers in the genre.

The streets of San Francisco provide the backdrop for the fast-paced The Dirty Secrets Club. Membership is limited to the rich, famous and influential, to ensure that each person would have lots to lose if their secret were to be exposed. The problem is that one by one, the dirty secrets are coming to light, and the ensuing rash of high-profile suicides plagues the City by the Bay: first a highly regarded prosecutor launches her BMW off a freeway ramp; then a 49ers football star takes a flying dive off the Golden Gate Bridge. Enter Jo Beckett, forensic psychiatrist, and Amy Tang, hard-bitten SFPD policewoman, to try to make sense of it all. The interplay between Beckett and Tang is at once tentative and aggressive, neither one entirely trusting the motivations of the other. And Beckett has a secret of her own that she desperately wants to keep to herself.

Gardiner's characters are tough, but always sympathetic. "I figure that if I'm going to spend a year with these people while I write a novel, I'd better be able to stand their company. Even the awful characters had better have some redeeming features," she says. For my part, I will add a small amount to Gardiner's coffers by buying all of the Delaney books as soon as they are available – China Lake and Mission Canyon are already on sale, and the sequels will be released over the next three months.

Shortly after being offered the assignment of reviewing Meg Gardiner's latest book, The Dirty Secrets Club, I was visiting an American friend in Tokyo and discovered the first Gardiner book, China Lake, on his bookshelf. The novel was a veritable roller coaster ride from page one. The protagonist, Evan Delaney, neatly splits the difference between […]
NonfictionTrue Crime

Douglas Preston’s latest tracks a fabled Italian serial killer

Review by Bruce Tierney

The Renaissance city of Firenze (Florence to English speakers) figures strongly in this issue of BookPage; in my Whodunit column, I reviewed Magdalen Nabb's Vita Nuova, a contemporary mystery set in the Tuscan capital. This book, Douglas Preston and Mario Spezi's The Monster of Florence, is perhaps even more chilling, since it is a nonfiction account of a series of murders that happened over the course of 20 years, by a killer who, to date, has never been caught.

In 2000, American novelist Douglas Preston moved to Florence, with the notion of writing a thriller set in 1960s Tuscany in the wake of an epic flood; it was to be a short-lived notion. Shortly after his arrival, he met Italian author and journalist Spezi, who regaled him with the tale of the Monster of Florence, who killed only courting couples, only on Saturday nights of a new moon. Preston was hooked: the scene of one grisly double homicide was literally just outside his door, a peaceful olive grove with a sweeping view of the Florentine hills. In short order, Preston and Spezi collaborated on an article about the Monster for an American magazine. Their ongoing research led them on a strange journey through the palace halls and lowlife dives of Florence, in search of an elusive, almost mythical villain. It would be a perilous journey, to say the least: before they were finished, Preston would be forcibly expelled from Italy, and Spezi would be incarcerated as a potential accessory to the Monster murders. Clearly, they were stepping on some important toes! The Monster of Florence reads like fast-paced fiction, no surprise really, since Preston is a first-rate novelist (The Codex, Blasphemy), and Spezi is a well-respected journalist. That the story is true lends an edge to it that is rarely achieved in fiction.

Note: The Monster of Florence is not the first book devoted to this subject – one of the prosecutors wrote a lengthy tome on the subject and Thomas Harris reputedly used the story as inspiration for his best-selling Hannibal, in which everyone's favorite carnivorous villain relocated to Florence to continue his malevolent career. Even the aforementioned Magdalen Nabb penned a novel also titled The Monster of Florence, in which Marshal Guarnaccia of the Florence Carabinieri attempts to show that the man accused of the crimes could not be the real perpetrator. Next comes Academy-Award winning screenwriter Christopher McQuarrie's (The Usual Suspects) take on the Monster; he purchased the film rights to Preston and Spezi's novel this spring.

The Renaissance city of Firenze (Florence to English speakers) figures strongly in this issue of BookPage; in my Whodunit column, I reviewed Magdalen Nabb's Vita Nuova, a contemporary mystery set in the Tuscan capital. This book, Douglas Preston and Mario Spezi's The Monster of Florence, is perhaps even more chilling, since it is a nonfiction […]
Travel

Canada wry

Review by Bruce Tierney

Canadians have long been regarded as country cousins by their counterparts in the States: Molson-swilling, hockey-watching roughnecks who go inexplicably dewy-eyed at the first acoustic guitar notes of a Gordon Lightfoot ballad. As is often the case, the truth is somewhat more complex. Vancouver novelist and Renaissance man Douglas Coupland explores what makes Canada, Canada in the aptly titled Souvenir of Canada, a book of essays and photographs of our neighbo(u)r to the north. Bit by bit, Coupland reveals a Canada that, rather than being a lackluster imitation of the U.S., is instead a somewhat bizarre parallel universe where folks routinely breakfast on Capitaine Crounch, season their French fries with vinegar (white vinegar at that), and drive with their headlights on at all hours of the day.

In a comical vignette about a Canadian staple, Coupland observes: "Cheese, in fact, plays a weirdly large dietary role in the lives of Canadians, who have a more intimate and intense relationship with Kraft food products than the citizens of any other country. . . . In particular, Kraft macaroni and cheese, known simply as Kraft Dinner, is the biggie, probably because it so precisely laser-targets the favoured Canadian food groups: fat, sugar, starch and salt." (Having grown up in Canada, this reviewer can attest to these preferences. In fact, my mother's first attempt at making spaghetti utilized Kraft Dinner and ketchup; it was about as heinous as it sounds.)

Souvenir of Canada is a clever and engaging book, a treat for Canadian and outlander alike. Stay tuned for Souvenir of Canada 2, coming soon to a bookseller near you, eh?

 

Canadians have long been regarded as country cousins by their counterparts in the States: Molson-swilling, hockey-watching roughnecks who go inexplicably dewy-eyed at the first acoustic guitar notes of a Gordon Lightfoot ballad. As is often the case, the truth is somewhat more complex. Vancouver novelist and Renaissance man Douglas Coupland explores what makes Canada, Canada […]
Fiction

Boyle’s memorable journey to a tuned-in, dropped-out era

Review by Bruce Tierney

You never know what to expect when you pick up the latest T.C. Boyle novel. The book might be populated with displaced Samurai, itinerant illegal aliens or even a larger-than-life figure like John Harvey Kellogg (of Corn Flakes fame). Boyle is fiction's counterpart to John McPhee, a man of widely varied interests and the talent to write about them all with insight and originality. His newest, Drop City, begins in a Sonoma commune of the same name, circa 1970. For those of you too young (or too old, or too stoned at the time) to remember, the late '60s and early '70s were times of great social upheaval, and northern California was arguably the epicenter. It would be a comparatively simple task to write a book about the culture clash between the normal folks and the hippies, or even a Cyra McFadden-style send-up about life on a commune, but T.C. Boyle has never been one for taking the easy road. Rather, Drop City is a tale of a utopian community riven from within by many of the problems that have plagued "straight" society for ages: drugs, sexism, racism and jealousy.

Meanwhile, in remote Boynton, Alaska, a union takes place between a hermit-like fur trapper and a mail-order bride. The wedding goes superbly (one is tempted to say "without a hitch") until late in the day, when it is crashed by the sworn enemy of the groom, the only person in Boynton who was not invited to the ceremony. Hijinks ensue, and the upshot of the skirmish leaves a team of sled dogs dead, and a pristine 1965 Shelby Mustang GT-350 coupe submerged in the cold deep waters of Birch Creek.

Back in California, the law is breathing down the necks of Drop City's resident revelers. A dead horse, a hit-and-run car accident, and several issues with the building codes department have conspired to draw the utopian experiment to a close. It is time to move on, but where to? You guessed it, Boynton, Alaska, to establish Drop City North. A weedy caravan of vehicles (a dusty Lincoln, a rusty Studebaker, and an elderly school bus) gingerly makes its way across the Canadian border, up the Alaska Highway. It will be a clash of a different sort, as the welfare/food-stamp/peace/love/dope crowd comes into contact with perhaps the most fiercely self-sufficient people the country has ever known.

Boyle's characters, with names like Mendocino Bill, Pan, Star and Sky Dog, are exceptionally well drawn, and the dialogue is eerily evocative of its time. Drop City is a book to be read slowly and savored; it is not about reaching the end, it is about the journey. For best effect, read Drop City in a beanbag chair. A drop or two of patchouli oil and Janis on the stereo couldn't hurt, either.

You never know what to expect when you pick up the latest T.C. Boyle novel. The book might be populated with displaced Samurai, itinerant illegal aliens or even a larger-than-life figure like John Harvey Kellogg (of Corn Flakes fame). Boyle is fiction's counterpart to John McPhee, a man of widely varied interests and the talent […]
Sports

The allure of an elusive fish

Review by Bruce Tierney

Pulitzer Prize-winning author John McPhee is a man of many and varied interests. Be it the common orange, Russian dissident paintings or portable nuclear bombs, his fascination with items exotic and commonplace leads the reader into corners of the world he or she might never otherwise explore. In his latest work, The Founding Fish, McPhee lures his readers into the world of Alosa sapidissima, the shad, a fish that has entranced and confounded anglers (McPhee included) for years. As is the case with most of McPhee's work, his subject is studied from many angles. Thus, he presents us with a history of the shad through the ages, the role of the shad in American history (there is anecdotal evidence that Washington's troops had shad and precious little else to eat at Valley Forge), catching, or more precisely, trying to catch shad, and last but not least, cooking the shad. An appendix offers several baking suggestions for the fish, a couple of which sound delectable.

McPhee spends time with ichthyologists, anatomists and fish behaviorists in locations as disparate as Pennsylvania and Bosnia-Herzegovina. He also learns the art of making the complex darts used to catch the fish. More than any time in recent memory, McPhee has imbued his writing with humor, much of it self-deprecating. His lack of proficiency at landing shad does little to cool his ardor. He regularly fishes from shore, from his Kevlar canoe and from the boats of friends and acquaintances as absorbed with the fish as he is. As usual, McPhee does a marvelous job of populating his tale. There are numerous forays into the lives of the people connected with his quest, as well as short side trips into the motivations that attract otherwise normal folks to the clan of the shad.

It is to McPhee's credit that he can take such an arcane topic and make it interesting, even compelling, to the casual reader. He provides sufficient data to suit the scientists among his readers, while writing in an easy conversational style that makes the rest of us want to sit at his feet and say, Tell me a story.

 

Pulitzer Prize-winning author John McPhee is a man of many and varied interests. Be it the common orange, Russian dissident paintings or portable nuclear bombs, his fascination with items exotic and commonplace leads the reader into corners of the world he or she might never otherwise explore. In his latest work, The Founding Fish, McPhee […]
FictionWorld Fiction

A rich sampling of Hispanic fiction

Review by Bruce Tierney

It is only recently that Hispanic fiction has touched the mainstream American reader. Certainly there are exceptions Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Mario Vargas Llosa jump to mind but they are the exceptions that prove the rule. In the past few years, however, names such as Laura Esquivel, Isabel Allende and Jose Raul Bernardo have breathed new life into a genre of literature long overlooked by the American book-buying public. At this point, few publishers have stepped up to the plate to offer books by Hispanic authors, but this is bound to change, as Hispanics represent the fastest-growing segment of the U.S. population. And for the moment, at least, some of the richest fiction to come out of the Americas can be attributed to a handful of superb Hispanic authors.

Stella Pope Duarte's Let Their Spirits Dance tells the poignant story of a mother's wish to touch her son's name on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall in Washington, D.C., before she dies. Told from the perspective of daughter Teresa, the story begins in small-town Arizona in 1968. Teresa's brother Jesse is saying his goodbyes to friends and family as he leaves for Vietnam: Then he leans over to me and says, I don't think I'm coming back, Teresa. Take care of Mom. . . . Yes you will, I insist. But I know what he wants. This is a secret I have to keep. Fast forward to the present. Teresa's mother is very ill, and she has become fixated on the idea of the Veterans Memorial. Teresa, ever practical, tells her mother that a) the doctor will never permit it and b) they can't afford the airfare anyway: My mother stares at me, then starts laughing. Oh, no mija, we're not going by plane. We're going by car! And so begins a strange and powerful road trip of memories, healing and closure. Let Their Spirits Dance is Duarte's second book; her first, Fragile Night, won her critical acclaim and a fellowship from the Arizona Arts Commission, as well as a nomination for the Pushcart Prize in Literature.

Another appealing new book from Rayo, the Latino imprint of publisher HarperCollins, is The Republic of East L.A., a collection of barrio vignettes by master storyteller Luis J. Rodriguez. The author is well known in the Hispanic community for his autobiographical Always Running: La Vida Loca, Gang Days in L.A., which won numerous awards including a New York Times Notable Book for 1993. The Republic of East L.A. continues in this tradition, offering brief entrŽe into the lives of a rapper, a trio of gangbanger girls, a homeless man, a pair of ex-cons and several other colorful characters of the East Los Angeles neighborhoods. There are no punches pulled, yet amid the rawness and brutality, glimpses of hope and beauty are found at every turn. Rodriguez has published three volumes of poetry, and his lyricism blossoms on every page. A maroon '63 Impala lowrider graces the cover, and its spirit imbues the book. Who says you can't judge a book by its cover?

Mexican writer Carlos Fuentes is possessed of one of the most resonant voices in literature, Hispanic or otherwise. Through novels such as The Death of Artemio Cruz (1962), The Old Gringo (1985) and The Years with Laura Diaz (2000), Fuentes has won critical acclaim and an international readership. His latest work, Inez, due out in English translation this month, tells two oddly concurrent love stories: one of an orchestra conductor and a singer in wartime Europe, the other of a pair of humans from the distant past, perhaps the first two humans to ever have contact with one another. The two narratives are joined together by the device of a magical crystal seal that allows its holder (and the reader) to traverse between these worlds. This may sound like a science fiction novel, but nothing could be further from the truth. It reads rather more like a grown-up version of C.S. Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia, in which a supernatural armoire provided the doorway between the real world and an alternate fantasy world (and left the reader to decide which was which). Inez is a short novel, just over 100 pages, but so rich and filling that it can only be devoured in pieces, allowing time to digest between courses; it is profound and poetic, a love story for the ages.

 

It is only recently that Hispanic fiction has touched the mainstream American reader. Certainly there are exceptions Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Mario Vargas Llosa jump to mind but they are the exceptions that prove the rule. In the past few years, however, names such as Laura Esquivel, Isabel Allende and Jose Raul Bernardo have breathed […]
Mystery & Suspense

Janet Evanovich

Interview by Bruce Tierney

As we speak, author Janet Evanovich is taking a well-deserved hiatus in her rural New Hampshire home; in a couple of weeks, she embarks on a 15-city North American tour to promote her latest Stephanie Plum mystery, Hot Six.

"I hate the flying part, but I love meeting my readers, and I'm a real ham," she says, laughing. "Still, even a two-week book tour takes four weeks out of your life. The week before you go, you have to get your roots done and shop for new clothes because the old ones don't fit anymore. Then you're on the road for a couple of weeks, and everything revolves around you; a driver takes you back and forth to the hotel, people cater to your every need. When I get home, I'm nuts for a week as I adjust to being a normal human being again. The first thing I do is get dressed in a pair of sweats and go to the grocery store."

Like her fictional alter-ego Stephanie Plum, Janet Evanovich is charming, talkative, and funny. "Have you read the new book?" she asks me. I reply that I have read it and loved it. So you got an ARC (advance reading copy)? she queries further. When I answer in the affirmative, she chuckles and says, "Good for you; one sold on eBay a few weeks ago for over $400. [The actual figure was $462.78, ed.] When you have finished with it, you can put it up for auction and generate some extra income." It seems that six of her loyal fans were so eager to find out the identity of Plum's new lover (an unresolved cliffhanger from the last book, High Five) that they formed a consortium to place the high bid on the internet auction. They shared their newly gleaned information by conference call, passed the book around amongst one another, then resold it on eBay to recoup some of their expenses.

A cast of lovable characters in Evanovich's work ensures that readers keep coming back for more. "I used TV sitcoms as models for the Stephanie Plum books," Evanovich says. "It's like Seinfeld. Stephanie is Seinfeld, the central character everybody revolves around." The usual suspects return in Hot Six: the enigmatic and sensual Ranger; on again/off again sweetheart Morelli; sassy Lula, the sidekick with a 'tude; and the unsinkable Grandma Mazur, who moves in with Stephanie after a falling out with Stephanie's parents. "Grandma Mazur is actually my Aunt Lena with a little bit of my Grand-mother Schneider thrown in. When I was a little girl, all the ladies would have coffee and read the obituaries in the newspaper, then go to visit the recently departed. This was before there were shopping malls, and in that part of New Jersey back then, the only evening recreation available was funeral parlors. They would even visit people they didn't know." Hot Six is, not surprisingly, the sixth book in the Stephanie Plum series (the others being One For the Money, Two For the Dough, Three to Get Deadly, Four to Score, and High Five). The wily feminine bounty hunter chases down a variety of oddball perpetrators: a high-school girlfriend about to jump off a bridge, a dope-smoking burnout with a generous spirit, and a homicidal maniac whose weapon of choice is an elderly Ford. In between Plum finds time for romance of both the requited and unrequited varieties with her two main squeezes, Ranger and Morelli.

Many fans of the Stephanie Plum series may not be aware that Evanovich had a steady career as a romance writer for several years before her first mystery. "I didn't get my first book published until I was in my early 40s," she says." In that respect I think I'm a great role model for my children; I have shown them that you are never to old to try something new. I really enjoy genre fiction," she continues. "I wanted to write in the first person, and this is one of the only areas in which you can do that. I think I write adventure novels, rather than mysteries, like, um, Indiana Jones in Trenton, New Jersey." The Indiana Jones analogy is an apt one, as TriStar Pictures has bought the rights to the first Stephanie Plum novel, One For the Money. " That was five or six years ago, and we are still waiting," she laughs. And who should play the lead role? "That's a tough one. I sort of see Stephanie as a composite; there is some of me, some of my daughter, Goldie Hawn, Cher, Julia Louis-Dreyfus." Suggestions from the Evanovich website include Julia Roberts, Jenna Elfman, and Sandra Bullock.

Stephanie Plum, like many of us, is transportationally challenged. In Hot Six, her unloved Escort is reduced to cinders by a misplaced cigarette of dubious origins (another drug-related tragedy, if a deceased Escort can be considered a tragedy). Her new ride is a Buick of indeterminate age but impeccable provenance: "That car is based on my father's old baby blue Buick that he bought when I was a small child. It was so uncool. I always wanted a snappy little roadster like the one that Nancy Drew had, but we were stuck with that old Buick. It was still around when I learned to drive. All of my friends had Impalas and other cool cars, and I had this Buick." So, did Evanovich ever get the Nancy Drew-esque roadster? "No, she replies with resignation in her voice. Although I did have a '66 Mustang, which was pretty okay."

Between book tours, speaking engagements, and other promotional activities, Evanovich spends a large portion of her day writing. " I start each morning at 7:30 a.m., and work through until lunchtime. I'm supposed to get some exercise, and sometimes I actually do," says Evanovich, who claims her favorite exercise is shopping. "In the evenings, four or five days out of seven I work on the website, e-mails, etc, and answer letters." Letters? "We get 10 or 15 snail mail letters a week as well as a number of e-mails. When a new book is due out, those numbers can go up dramatically. We answer every one that comes in. It's our way of bringing the reader in and making him part of the family. Basically," she continues, "I'm just a boring workaholic. I motivate myself to write by spending the money I make before it comes in."

A Plum-crazy website

Don't miss the Janet Evanovich website. Designed by Evanovich's daughter, Alex, the website is exceptionally user-friendly and chock full of interesting factoids and fun stuff to do. There is an author bio (actually an autobio ), a bibliography, a chat room, a schedule of tour and book release dates. Readers can even supply the title for the next book in the series. The website also includes excerpts from each of the Stephanie Plum novels, the chatty Plum News newsletter, and some great graphics featuring the old blue Buick. Says Evanovich, "Nowadays I think that old Buick is kind of cool. Go figure."

As we speak, author Janet Evanovich is taking a well-deserved hiatus in her rural New Hampshire home; in a couple of weeks, she embarks on a 15-city North American tour to promote her latest Stephanie Plum mystery, Hot Six. "I hate the flying part, but I love meeting my readers, and I'm a real ham," […]
Travel

Paul Theroux

Interview by Bruce Tierney

Paul Theroux is one of those writers who needs no introduction. Something of a firebrand early on, but always a critical darling, Theroux has made a career of observing human nature around the world, and regaling his readers with tales (both fact and fiction) of lands and people they will likely never get to see firsthand. Genre-jumping from travel literature to mainstream fiction and back again, Theroux's books have repeatedly appeared on both fiction and nonfiction bestseller lists: Saint Jack, The Mosquito Coast, The Old Patagonian Express, Sunrise with Seamonsters, the list goes on and on (and on).

In the mid-1970s, Theroux embarked on the journey that would become the basis for his bestseller The Great Railway Bazaar. An epic tale of an overland passage from London to the mysterious East, it was the inspiration for a generation of off-the-beaten-path travelers, including yours truly. Thirty years on, Theroux decided to reprise his journey, to see what changes time had wrought, both in the people and places he had visited, and in his perception of them. The chronicle of that trip is Ghost Train to the Eastern Star: On the Tracks of the Great Railway Bazaar.

It must be said, I lost control of my interview with Theroux in the first five minutes, if indeed I ever had it at all. The conversation scampered off in various directions, clearly with a mind of its own, with me furiously jotting down notes in hopes of being able to craft a cohesive narrative at some future date.

"I set off with the intention of writing a travel book," Theroux begins, speaking from his home in Cape Cod, "so in some ways my experiences will be different than those of a pleasure traveler. I write in longhand. I keep a journal or a notebook that I write in every day. I travel fairly light. I don't carry a laptop with me. My only concession to modern technology on this trip was a BlackBerry that doubled as a cell phone and an Internet receiver."

Once outside the sheltering cocoon of "civilized" Europe, Theroux found himself in the Blanche DuBois-esque situation of having to rely on the kindness of strangers: "It's just a question of trust. When I set off, I assume that I need to take risks. Otherwise, nothing will happen, and there will be no story." There isn't any danger of that in Ghost Train to the Eastern Star: Theroux is at the mercy of unkempt taxi drivers, daredevil motorcycle rickshaw pilots and all manner of other perilous ground transport providers, the proverbial accident waiting to happen (all of which must have played hell with his digestive system, but makes great edge-of-the-seat reading for the rest of us). In one vignette, he actually has to crawl in the window of a dilapidated jalopy because the door is broken. No mean feat for a man in his seventh decade.

I was particularly interested in reading and hearing what Theroux would have to say about Japan, my adopted homeland for half the year. He had a superb guide in the person of Japanese author Haruki Murakami, with whom he spent the day seeing the "insider's" Tokyo. "You travel, sometimes you get lucky," he says. "I got lucky and spent the day with Haruki. He knows the city intimately. To be with a writer in his city is the best way to get to know a place. The writer has the key; they are the 'noticers' of everything."

Nevertheless, I find myself a bit at odds with Theroux's depiction of Japan as a somewhat aloof place, less than welcoming to the traveler, and broach that topic with him: "That doesn't surprise me that you would have a different experience of it," he says. "If two people take the same trip, it's not really the same trip, is it? That's normal." He's right, of course.

There is no doubt a certain cachet to being a writer, both with the reading public and with other practitioners of the craft; it can open doors that otherwise might remain firmly closed. In addition to meeting with Murakami, Theroux was able to spend an afternoon chatting with iconic novelist Arthur C. Clarke (2001: A Space Odyssey, Childhood's End) at his home in Sri Lanka shortly before Clarke's death in March. "He asked if I played table tennis." Theroux says. "It was his great hobby, his only sport. He was, of course, too old to play anymore. He was confined to a wheelchair." Theroux was more diplomatic in person: "I'll play you anytime, but I'm sure I'd lose." As an aside, I mention that some 25 years ago, while on a semester-at-sea program, my brother had the opportunity to visit Clarke in Sri Lanka, and had been soundly drubbed by the even-then-elderly pingpong hustler. "How good was your brother?" Theroux asks. "Not too darn bad," I reply, thinking of thumpings I had taken a time or two at his hands.

Ghost Train to the Eastern Star is likely unique in one respect; Theroux notes early on in the book: "What traveler backtracked to take the same trip again? None of the good ones that I know. Greene never returned to the Liberian bush, nor to Mexico, nor to Vietnam. In his late fifties, Waugh dismissed modern travel altogether as mere tourism and a waste of time . . . Robert Byron did not take the road to Oxiana again . . . Chatwin never returned to Patagonia." In revisiting the scenes of his earlier journey, Theroux takes note not only of the changes to the places, but also his markedly different outlook: "The first trip was about five months long. This trip lasted about a year with a short break in the middle. The first time out, I was homesick and very impatient. As you get older, I think you get more patient." This is quite evident in his writing, perhaps the most startling contrast in his work, particularly if you read the new book and one of his earlier travelogues back to back.

Theroux is among the most scrupulously honest of the contemporary traveler/observers, harkening back to a style pioneered by Sir Richard Burton and Robert Byron. He never goes for the sentimental anecdote or the easy laugh, although both can be found in his writing from time to time. Instead, he offers his readers a reporter's-eye view of strange lands: serious and thought-provoking, fleshing out the minuscule details that most of us would never notice on our own, thus giving his readers a sense of "being there," if only vicariously.

Bruce Tierney travels the world from home bases in Japan and eastern Canada.

Paul Theroux is one of those writers who needs no introduction. Something of a firebrand early on, but always a critical darling, Theroux has made a career of observing human nature around the world, and regaling his readers with tales (both fact and fiction) of lands and people they will likely never get to see […]
Mystery & SuspenseMystery

Michael Connelly

Interview by Bruce Tierney

Michael Connelly’s new book, The Scarecrow, hits bookstores this month, having garnered pre-release acclaim from every quarter. It is Connelly’s first novel to feature reporter Jack McEvoy since the runaway bestseller The Poet in 1996. Of all of the characters in Connelly books over the years, McEvoy has the trajectory that most closely resembles Connelly’s own: reporter for a small-town newspaper, a move to the Los Angeles Times, a successful book deal, fame and fortune; analogous events, albeit in a slightly different order.

I recently had the opportunity to interview Connelly via a crackly Tokyo-to-Florida cell phone connection. In addition to having read most of his books over the years, I did some research and learned that Connelly once lived in Raymond Chandler’s old apartment, a factoid I thought worth pursuing.

“Ah, you must have visited Wikipedia,” Connelly begins, with a knowing chuckle. “As so often happens with the Internet, they got the germ of the story right, but they missed out on the details.” Connelly says he was inspired to start writing mysteries after seeing Robert Altman’s film The Long Goodbye, in which Elliott Gould stars as the Chandler detective Philip Marlowe. “When I moved to L.A., I thought it would be cool to live in the apartment where Marlowe/Gould had lived in the movie,” he says. The apartment wasn’t available at the time, but years later it became vacant and Connelly moved in. “On the plus side, it had a great view overlooking L.A., and I could walk to the Hollywood Bowl to see the Rolling Stones. On, the minus side, it wasn’t air-conditioned, and it always smelled a bit like a gas leak,” Connelly recalls.

Connelly’s character, Jack McEvoy, lives in a Craftsman home south of Sunset, and does his writing from the pressroom of the Los Angeles Times. This is a room with which Connelly is intimately familiar from his years as a crime reporter, and one of his aims in writing The Scarecrow was to focus on the sad decline of newspapers like the Times. The real-life closing in February of the Rocky Mountain News, the site of McEvoy’s previous posting, forced the recall of The Scarecrow manuscript so Connelly could make last-minute changes to the book. As more newspapers around the country shut down, Connelly says, “I think what is lost is a community center, a place of news and ideas and debate. It will be splintered among websites and blogs. Perhaps more important is the loss of a watchdog. Who will keep an eye on the small stuff? Who will uncover the small corruptions that lead to the big ones? Will the bloggers do it? Will websites do it? I’m not sure.”

As The Scarecrow opens, McEvoy’s career is in flux: thanks to the double whammy of his large paycheck and the L.A. Times’ plummeting fortunes, he is about to be given the heave-ho. Asked to stay on for a brief period to train his replacement, Mc-Evoy faces a conundrum: on the one hand, he would love to leave his boss twisting in the wind, but he is working on an article that might well garner him the Pulitzer Prize, and he’d really like to stick around long enough to see it in print. His story focuses on Alonzo Winslow, a 16-year-old journeyman felon charged with rape and murder. It takes McEvoy next to no time to deduce that Winslow’s so-called confession is bogus, which begs the bigger question: if this fledgling thug isn’t the killer, then who is the Scarecrow? And how can one write about this stuff without giving real-life villains usable ideas?

“I think you always have to have some responsibility when you write up the bad guys,” Connelly says. “For example, I never give every step in a crime because I don’t want the books to be a primer for anybody. Most of the time, unfortunately, I am not plowing new ground. The bad guy in The Scarecrow may be unique, but the use of the Internet for nefarious deeds is nothing new. This so-called Craigslist Killer would be a case in point. The real thing is always much worse in reality than anything I put into fiction.”

A longtime cinema fan, Connelly has had only one of his books made into a movie thus far, the 2002 Clint Eastwood adaptation of Blood Work. It makes one wonder how Hollywood can pass over such intelligent and action-packed novels in favor of, say, a remake of Bewitched. “Hey, I liked Bewitched,” Connelly says with a laugh. “Seriously, though, I don’t think my books lend themselves to being made into movies, because so much of what happens in the book is in the head of the protagonist. You could do it with voice-overs, but Hollywood doesn’t like voice-overs.”

Asked if he has ever considered doing a Hitchcockian cameo role in a film of his work, Connelly says, “I visited the set of Blood Work a couple of times, but Clint Eastwood never offered me a role as an extra, and I never really thought much about it. Then Eastwood directed Dennis Lehane’s Mystic River, and toward the end of the movie, Dennis was in a great cameo in the parade scene, alongside the mayor, no less! Dennis is a friend of mine, and I have given him a good deal of grief about that.”

Speaking of cameo appearances, the McEvoy character has made several, in books featuring longtime Connelly stalwarts Harry Bosch and Mickey Haller. “The idea was that all my books would be part of one big mosaic of time and place. So I consciously look for places to cross-pollinate,” Connelly says. “I needed to have a reporter in The Brass Verdict so I made him Jack McEvoy because I knew I would be writing about him next and it sort of set the table for the next book. I wish there was a device for tracking all of this. I could use one.”

Connelly is not one to rest on his laurels. Indeed, it seems he is not one to rest at all; his next book, 9 Dragons, featuring L.A. cop Harry Bosch, is due out in the fall.
 

Michael Connelly’s new book, The Scarecrow, hits bookstores this month, having garnered pre-release acclaim from every quarter. It is Connelly’s first novel to feature reporter Jack McEvoy since the runaway bestseller The Poet in 1996. Of all of the characters in Connelly books over the years, McEvoy has the trajectory that most closely resembles Connelly’s […]
Mystery & SuspenseMystery

C.J. Box

Interview by Bruce Tierney

Tony Hillerman wrote of C.J. Box's first novel: "Buy two copies of Open Season, and save one in mint condition to sell to first-edition collectors." In his well-crafted debut, Box decisively set himself apart from the crowd of freshman mystery writers. Deftly sidestepping the dreaded sophomore slump, he is back with a vengeance in Savage Run, the second book featuring Wyoming game warden Joe Pickett.

Box, a Wyoming native who has worked as a ranch hand, a surveyor and a fishing guide, focuses his latest book on the battle between conservationists and ranchers for control of the West's open range. The scales tip one way, then the other, in this ongoing struggle, with neither side seeming to gain lasting advantage. In Savage Run the stakes have been raised, as an organization of zealous environmentalists locks horns with the Stockman's Trust, a well-heeled clandestine association of ranchers who will stop at nothing in pursuit of their objectives. When several "tree huggers" meet with foul play in rapid succession, the investigation falls to Joe Pickett. It will prove to be the toughest assignment of his career.

"People seem to see environmental issues as black and white," says Box ("Chuck" to his friends) via telephone from his Wyoming office. "I hoped to present a fair look at both sides of the issue." The environment is certainly a running theme in both Open Season and Savage Run, but more compelling are the characters on either side of the fence: the ranchers who depend upon the use of government lands for grazing their cattle; the newcomers from out of state who hanker after a taste of the Old West; the environmentalists bent on conserving the dwindling natural resources of the region; and finally, the game wardens, who stir the simmering pot in an attempt to keep it from boiling over.

So, are the protagonist and the supporting characters drawn from people in Box's daily life? "Well, there are any number of game wardens who are absolutely sure that Joe Pickett is based on them, and their wives think so as well!" Box says, laughing. "But the truth is that he is a composite of several different people. A game warden has a unique and autonomous job, and that lifestyle attracts a certain type of individual, someone like Joe Pickett."

On a more personal note, Box reveals that his 15-year-old twin daughters are convinced that they are the models for Pickett's older daughter, Sheridan: "I guess there's more than a little resemblance between my youngest daughter and Lucy Pickett, as well," he says with a chuckle. "The girls take a bit of ribbing from their friends at school, because all their friends read the books to see if there is anything potentially embarrassing."

How does it feel to be an overnight success? "It's weird. Open Season sat on my shelf for three and a half years before anyone showed any interest in it. I went to a conference hosted by the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers Association, and they had agents on hand to critique new writers' work. The deal was, you could sign up to meet with two agents, so I signed up with two as C.J. Box, two more as Chuck Box. I think I signed up for eight in all. That was in November of 1999, and by the following May I had a publishing deal." Now, two years down the road, Open Season has been optioned for a movie, and Savage Run has received rave advance reviews. "Originally, I was signed to do three books in the Joe Pickett series; we have just signed for an additional three, plus another book that is not part of the series."

Things are nothing if not hectic for Box these days. He has not given up his day job (organizing tours of the western U.S. for European travelers), but writing demands more and more of his time: "I try to devote two entire days a week to writing. The rest of the time, I go in to the office and work just like before." And has he at done something wonderful to celebrate his new success-a round-the-world cruise, a Mercedes? "No time," he says ruefully. "I did take my wife out to dinner, though. Does that count?"

Tops on his wish list: "I hope that someday I have the opportunity to meet Tony Hillerman and thank him personally for his great review!"

Tony Hillerman wrote of C.J. Box's first novel: "Buy two copies of Open Season, and save one in mint condition to sell to first-edition collectors." In his well-crafted debut, Box decisively set himself apart from the crowd of freshman mystery writers. Deftly sidestepping the dreaded sophomore slump, he is back with a vengeance in Savage […]

Bill Bryson

Interview by Bruce Tierney

Think for a moment of the human brain as a computer, albeit a very primitive one, perhaps a Pentium "negative four." There is a finite, and severely limited, amount of permanent memory available, after which new data vanishes almost as soon as it has entered. So, despite the fact that it would be handy to know where you left your keys, or the exact date of your wedding anniversary, this is not to be, for your mind is filled to the brim with things like the Pythagorean theorem, or an endless series of dates (1066, Battle of Hastings; 1215, Magna Carta; 1959, Hawaii's statehood), or in my case, the second verse of "Louie, Louie" in its entirety. Somehow, with the exception of some basic English language skills (don't ask me to diagram a sentence), I seem to have forgotten pretty much everything I learned in school after the fourth grade.

This is normal, according to author Bill Bryson, who often wonders "Why didn't they teach me this in school, or more to the point, why couldn't teachers make it interesting?" Little did he realize that this simple question would occupy four years of his life in the production of his new book A Short History of Nearly Everything. "I had the sense that I ought to know a bit about how the world works," Bryson says. "What I had always considered to be 'dull stuff' must in some way be interesting after all."

And so it began, a mammoth work on virtually every topic you can think of (and some you can't pronounce): the Big Bang, dinosaurs, global warming, geology, Einstein, the Curies, evolution, leaded gasoline, atomic theory, quarks, volcanoes, chromosomes, chlorofluorocarbons, Ediacarian organisms, the Moho discontinuity, DNA, Charles Darwin and a gajillion other things, all duly annotated and footnoted. Oh, and did I mention this book is funny? "One of my favorite anecdotes in the book was about the contempt in which physicists hold scientists from other fields," Bryson says, laughing. "The Austrian physicist Wolfgang Pauli was floored when his wife left him for a chemist. 'Had she taken a bullfighter I would have understood, but a chemist?' "

Indeed, it is the human side of the equation that makes A Short History of Nearly Everything so accessible. In one memorable instance, Bryson spins the ironic tale of Thomas Midgley, an Ohio inventor responsible for two of the most devastating scientific developments of all time, leaded gasoline and chlorofluorocarbons. Having contributed so profoundly to the shortened lifespans of many of his fellow humans, Midgley's life was itself cut short by another of his inventions, a pulley-operated adjustable bed in which he became entangled and strangled to death. (I don't know about you, but that's the sort of detail that will always keep Thomas Midgley in the forefront of my mind.)

Bryson seems to intuit just when he is getting too deep for the average reader, and rescues those close to the edge: "The upshot of all this is that we live in a universe whose age we can't quite compute, surrounded by stars whose distances we don't altogether know, filled with matter we can't quite identify, operating in conformance with physical laws whose properties we don't truly understand. And on that rather unsettling note, let's return to planet Earth and consider something that we do understand though by now you perhaps won't be surprised to hear that we don't understand it completely and what we do understand we haven't understood for long . . . "

By comparison to, say, A Walk in the Woods, Bryson's 1999 book about his travels on the Appalachian trail, A Short History of Nearly Everything seems something of a monumental undertaking. "This was more 'huge' than I had ever budgeted for," Bryson admits. "In September, when the book was supposed to be ready, I knew I needed at least another month. In December it still wasn't ready. In January I said 'It will never be finished; that's simply all there is to it.' In fact, when my publisher took it, I was still writing. It's the sort of book that would never get finished unless you just agreed to stop." In the end, it took four years. "My normal writing work day is more or less equal to the school day, at least when life is not in hysterics," notes Bryson. "Of course, there was some travel, and huge amounts of research to do before and during the writing."

As many of his loyal readers know, Bryson was born in the States but lived in England for a number of years before settling for a time in a small New Hampshire town. His accent is pronounced, yet somehow elusive, with a hint of English lilt and perhaps a taste of Americanese here and there. "We moved back to the States for what was supposed to be five years; we've now stayed eight," Bryson explains. "I have a daughter graduating from high school this year, and a son starting middle school, so we have decided to move back to England." A political statement in these troubled times? "No, not really. It's more that the timing is right. I think that everyone should be compelled to spend at least a year in another country. It would help to dispel the ignorance of others' customs, and perhaps increase our tolerance for people who are different from us. We're not all so very different. Plus it can be great fun." And how are housing prices in England compared to New Hampshire? Bryson deadpans, "You'd swallow your tongue!"

Asked if he has a new project in the works, Bryson says no, rather emphatically. "Or rather, recovery," he adds. "The move back to England is on the horizon, of course. And, this is the first time in years that I have had the luxury of reading something that I don't have to write about. I am reading a William Boyd novel, and a wonderful biography of Samuel Pepys by Claire Tomlin. On top of that, I have acquired what seems as if it will be a lifelong interest in scientific publications. There is so much to learn. Science is huge!"

 

 

Think for a moment of the human brain as a computer, albeit a very primitive one, perhaps a Pentium "negative four." There is a finite, and severely limited, amount of permanent memory available, after which new data vanishes almost as soon as it has entered. So, despite the fact that it would be handy to […]
Mystery & SuspenseMystery

Tony Hillerman

Interview by Bruce Tierney

There is a sense of symmetry as I sit in a cozy cabin overlooking the Grand Canyon's Bright Angel Trail and begin collating the notes of my interview with Southwestern mystery author Tony Hillerman. Hillerman's latest novel, Skeleton Man, takes place in the Grand Canyon, reuniting veteran Native American policemen Joe Leaphorn and Jim Chee for an investigation into the aftermath of a plane crash, the worst airline disaster of its day, which took place more than 40 years before. Among the victims was a diamond dealer carrying a briefcase full of diamonds, one of which has recently surfaced in a local crime.

It's another fascinating scenario from Hillerman, an Oklahoma native and longtime journalist who launched his Native American mystery series in 1970 with the publication of The Blessing Way. Since then, he has turned out 15 more Navajo mysteries, as well as several other novels, nonfiction books about the West, essay collections and a memoir. From his home in Albuquerque, Hillerman talked to BookPage about his long career and his new book. What was intended as a short interview turned into an hour-long conversation on a variety of topics, ranging from Grand Canyon history to homeland security, only a small portion of which are covered here.

BookPage: Can you tell us a bit about the 1956 airline crash over the Grand Canyon that plays a pivotal role in Skeleton Man?
Tony Hillerman: Sure. The crash took place on June 30, 1956. Two planes were involved, a United Airlines DC-7 and a TWA Constellation. There has been speculation that one of the passengers requested that the pilot turn the plane a bit to afford a better view of the canyon, but I think that is largely speculation. In any event, there was a midair crash, and 128 passengers and crew were killed. It actually caused the FAA to revamp their regulations regarding airspace usage, regulations that remain in place to this day.

BP : You've summoned Joe Leaphorn out of retirement to take part in Skeleton Man. Are there any parallels between Leaphorn and yourself in this regard?
TH: [laughs] I am 82 years old. I imagine that I will keep on writing as long as anyone wants to keep reading. In fact, Leaphorn figures quite prominently in my upcoming novel [a follow-up to Skeleton Man], which will tie up some loose ends such as the ongoing romance between Jim Chee and Bernie Manuelito.

BP: Jim Chee is, as you say, something of a romantic, while Joe Leaphorn is a bit of a pragmatist by comparison. Do you identify more with one than the other?
TH: I would say that Leaphorn is more an extension of my personality than Chee. He is closer to me in age and attitude, and he can be a bit grouchy from time to time.

BP: Your books are icons of mystery fiction; you have virtually invented the subgenre of Native American mysteries. How do you account for their ongoing popularity?
TH: You write for two people, yourself and your audience, who are usually better educated and at least as smart. But an author knows his landscape best; he can stand around, smell the wind, get a feel for his place. You try to create characters who invite a strong reaction from readers, whether pity, contempt, empathy, whatever.

BP: A number of television adaptations of your Leaphorn/Chee novels have been aired over the past few years. What is your reaction to seeing your characters on the big (or small) screen?
TH: Well, Wes Studi [who plays Joe Leaphorn in PBS adaptations] is perfect. In fact, when an image of Joe Leaphorn crosses my mind, it is Wes Studi's face I see. Adam Beach [who plays Jim Chee] is an excellent actor as well, but much too handsome.

BP: This has nothing whatsoever to do with the current book, but Finding Moon, the tale of an average fellow who goes to Vietnam to discover what has happened to his missing brother, has always been a particular favorite of mine. Can you give us some insight into how that book came about?
TH: [laughs again] Well, you certainly know the right questions to ask! Finding Moon is a favorite of mine as well. It would have been my first book. It was originally set in the Belgian Congo during their civil war in the aftermath of the Belgian armed forces' pullout. What with work and family obligations, I wasn't able to get it finished quickly, and then the situation changed in the Belgian Congo, rendering some of my plot ideas unworkable. I kept it on a shelf for all those years, and was able to rework the bones of the story using Vietnam as the geographic focal point. Although I wasn't able to get a visa for Vietnam, I was able to talk with swift boat veterans and others to get a feel for the time and place, and I visited a tropical prison in the Philippines to get a sense of what a Vietnamese prison might have been like.

BP: Now that I've posed a number of questions that either I or our readers were curious about, is there anything that you would like to add?
TH: Well, I have another new book called Kilroy Was There. It was published by Kent State University as a World War II memorial. I was asked to write the text for the book, but I replied that I was "much too busy." Then I saw some of the photographs by Frank Kessler and I knew I had to do it. The photos depict down-and-dirty street fighting, the realities of war with no sugarcoating or romanticizing.

 

There is a sense of symmetry as I sit in a cozy cabin overlooking the Grand Canyon's Bright Angel Trail and begin collating the notes of my interview with Southwestern mystery author Tony Hillerman. Hillerman's latest novel, Skeleton Man, takes place in the Grand Canyon, reuniting veteran Native American policemen Joe Leaphorn and Jim Chee […]
Mystery & SuspenseFictionSuspense

Greg Iles

Interview by Bruce Tierney

Mississippi novelist Greg Iles’ bestselling Natchez Burning trilogy comes to a close with a gripping tale of revenge and dangerous family secrets.

In 2011, a nearly fatal car crash jump-started Iles’ desire to continue the story of Penn Cage. In Mississippi Blood, Penn, a former prosecutor turned mayor of Natchez, Mississippi, must face deep hatred and the ghosts of a painful, brutal Southern past before making a final attempt to save his family from complete destruction.

How does it feel to complete this 2,000-plus-page project? How did you celebrate?
I’m actually still decompressing from that ordeal. I’ve lived with this story for eight years, and you don’t shake something like that off easily. As far as celebration—first I slept, then my wife and I opened a bottle of champagne we’d been saving since before my accident.

You had a longstanding rule against writing a series. What prompted you to break that rule?
In spite of my rule, Penn kept pushing his way back into these stories about once every seven years. For an inquiry into race and family in the South, Penn was the perfect narrator, and his family the perfect vehicle.

Did you have an outline of the trilogy from the very beginning?
I did begin the trilogy with an outline, but early on this story began to turn in directions I did not expect. Tom Cage [Penn’s father] and his secret, in particular, took control of the narrative and steered the story to an unexpected conclusion.

What element of this series are you proudest of? Did you accomplish what you set out to do with this story?
I can’t reveal what I’m proudest of about the series without giving spoilers. But as for whether I accomplished my goal, it is with great relief that I can say I believe I did.

You are often referred to as “Southern author Greg Iles.” How much does “Southern-ness” influence your writing?
Like Pat Conroy and Rick Bragg, I am as Southern as they come. I’m descended from a Confederate cavalryman from Louisiana and an infantryman from South Carolina, but I am proud to say that I have outgrown a lot of the programming that cripples our region. I love the South, but we still have a very long way to go.

Your work defies genre pigeonholing. How did you make the jump from writing about the supernatural to a legal thriller?
I have jumped between genres because I always write about what interests me most. On one hand, I am lucky to be able to do that, but I’ve paid a price for that right. Had I written a series from the beginning, I’d probably be a lot wealthier, but I’d also be more confined in a rut.

What do you think about the possible TV adaptation of the Natchez trilogy? Any favorites for the leading roles?
This has been a long and educational road for me. I shouldn’t talk about casting preferences. I am a producer and do have input into those decisions, and speaking publicly about casting choices can close doors that might have led to surprisingly good outcomes.

Have readers seen the last of Penn Cage?
I can’t answer that without giving spoilers either, but I’m not quite finished with Natchez as a setting. And that certainly leaves the door open for certain things that readers would love to see.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our review of Mississippi Blood.

Mississippi novelist Greg Iles’ bestselling Natchez Burning trilogy comes to a close with a gripping tale of revenge and dangerous family secrets.

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