October 2005
Crime
and Suspense editor Tony Burton was
lucky enough for award-winning author Thomas Perry to take some time from his
busy schedule and answer a few interview questions for him.
For anyone of you who is familiar only with Mr. Perry’s characters,
here is a little information about the man behind them:
Thomas
Perry was born in Tonawanda, New York in 1947. He received a B.A. from Cornell
University in 1969 and a Ph.D. in English from the University of Rochester in
1974. He has worked as a park maintenance man, factory laborer, commercial
fisherman, university administrator and teacher, and a writer and producer of
prime time network television shows. He is the author of thirteen
novels. He lives in Southern California with his wife Jo and two daughters.
C&S: You have achieved a great deal of success with your books, both critically and in sales. With a doctorate in English Literature, there are obviously other things you could have done, other things you could have written than crime and mystery novels. What drew you to that particular genre?
TP: Much of what we do in life has a huge component of luck. I had been writing fiction since I was in eighth grade, because I loved it. I wisely kept that fact to myself, and I almost never talked even to the people closest to me about any specific project I was working on: having told the story once, it’s hard to bring yourself to tell it again on paper. I held a variety of jobs—most notably ten years working in universities—and kept on writing. The first long work that I finished that struck me as likely to appeal to people who were not related to me was a story about a professional killer. I called it The Butcher’s Boy. I submitted it to an agent, he sold it to Scribner’s, and the Mystery Writers of America gave me an Edgar.
Being an unpublished writer is like standing for years in front of a huge, impenetrable stone wall. When a doorway suddenly opened in the middle of it, I didn’t hesitate and ask myself whether it was the right door, or the best door. I simply went through it, because it was the door.
C&S:
It very much seems like it was the right door for you, at any rate. What
can you tell us about Nightlife, your upcoming release?
TP:
I’m proud of Nightlife.
Although it won’t be published until March 2006, the first review just
appeared in Publishers’ Weekly, and it’s very positive. To be as brief as I
can, the book is about a young woman who kills people and another, slightly
older woman who is a homicide detective in the Portland Police Bureau
investigating the first murder.
C&S:
I'm eager to see that one! Some
authors say their characters are truly organic, that they take on a life of
their own and don’t always do what the authors tell them to do.
How do you feel about that?
TP:
While I like to think that
authors have absolute control, I agree that the process these people are
referring to is real. Once you have invented a character with three dimensions
and a voice, you begin to realize that some of the things you’d like him to do
to further your plot are things that such a person wouldn’t, or couldn’t,
do. When my wife and I were writing television, I heard the old joke about a
writer pitching a story to an executive producer. The producer says, “A
Martian wouldn’t say that.” It’s silly, but the point of the joke is that
the producer is right. We know what he means. If a script (or a novel) is going
well, the writer’s mind will warn him occasionally, “This character
wouldn’t say that.”
C&S:
That really leads to the next
question. When you write about psychopaths (as you have with great
frequency!), does it start to bother you? Getting inside the heads of these people, I mean.
You do a very good job of that.
C&S:
I know Arthur Conan Doyle got very tired of writing about Holmes.
We readers hope you have not reached that point about Jane Whitefield! Do you have anything in the works for her?
TP:
I didn’t stop writing
about Jane Whitefield because I was tired of her. I just knew that it was time
to give her a break. I enjoyed her very much. I knew almost from the beginning
that I was going to write five books about her, because that was the agreement
with Random House. It gave me a chance to examine a single character thoroughly.
In a way, the five volumes became one work. In each book Jane is a year older
and some of the things she knows come from last year’s book. Each time she
goes out with a client she’s in more danger because she was out last
time: she has one more set of enemies whom she’s outsmarted and who are
looking for her. It was a lot of fun, and writing a series is comfortable.
It’s almost like having a secure job.
But I’ve always felt that a writer’s biggest responsibility to his readers and to himself is to learn to be a better writer. Being comfortable isn’t the way to learn to expand your abilities. If you’ll think about various series you’ve read, can you think of any instance in which, say, the tenth volume of the series is notably better than the first nine? I can’t.
I do want to write about Jane Whitefield again, but only when I have a good enough idea—something I’ve figured out about her that’s news and that’s worth a reader’s time.
C&S:
Writers always speak of dry seasons, and I am sure you are no exception.
When those periods of time come to you, where creativity is at an ebb,
what are some of the ways you deal with them?
TP: I don’t have dry seasons, because I don’t allow them. I’ve been at this for a very long time now, and I know how to bully or fool myself into working. If I don’t have a project going, I sit down and begin to write something—a character sketch, a monologue, a description of some sight, or even just a list of ideas. At some point one of these written bits will stimulate my curiosity, and the pen will keep moving.
There are days when I intentionally don’t write. For instance, I never write when I’m traveling, because travel is a situation where I can learn more by looking and listening than by working.
C&S:
That's encouraging, that you can discipline yourself not to have such dry
seasons. When you are reading outside the genre, what sort of books
and magazines do you read?
TP: I read randomly, so I’ll have to try to piece it together. For years I’ve read very little in the mystery/crime genre. All writers are mimics, and I’m not interested in picking up somebody else’s style or voice. Early in the morning before I take the kids to school I read the Los Angeles Times. At the moment the periodicals I subscribe to are: The New Yorker, the Atlantic Monthly, Harper’s, National Geographic, National Geographic Adventurer, Smithsonian, The New York Times Book Review, Kiplinger’s, Money, (not that I have much, but I write about it lovingly) Guns & Ammo (of course), and a few that are incidental to memberships—AARP, Westways, etc. I usually read all of them. I’m also always reading a book or two. Most of the books I read are nonfiction. Some are connected with research for my work, but most are for pleasure. I generally have a tall stack of books waiting to be read, and so does my wife, Jo (also a Ph.D. in English and my TV writing partner). Hers are better, so I often read hers.
C&S:
How do you feel about the health of the crime and suspense genre markets?
Some have said that the present unease about world events causes people
to long for more “comfortable” reads, rather than things that make them
suspicious about the person on the subway beside them as they commute to work.
TP:
I’m not really
qualified to speak specifically about the health of the market for crime novels.
I only see general book statistics accidentally when I’m looking for other
information, and they seem to fluctuate very mildly. I do notice each week that
a great many mystery/crime/suspense novels are on the bestseller lists. I also
believe that a sluggish market can be—and periodically is—revived by the
arrival of the next book that captures the imaginations of a large audience. It
draws people back to bookstores for a time, and educates them about the number
of other good books that are available.
I don’t think the problem is that people don’t read enough mystery books, but that people don’t read. Not reading is a bigger problem and it has nothing to do with anxiety about world events (people who don’t read know nothing about them). It has more to do with television, game cubes, I-pods, and computers. I think what we need to do is teach parents that rather than spending $5,000 on a flat-screen TV, they might spend $4,000 on a smaller one and buy their kids two hundred $5.00 paperbacks from Scholastic. It would enrich their lives, probably improve their future prospects, and eventually, make our elections a less dispiriting experience for us all.
C&S:
I can't disagree with any of that! When you want to get out of the
house and away from the characters in your books, what do you do for recreation?
TP: For many years I’ve had the good fortune to do for a living what other people do for fun. When I’m not writing, I spend virtually all of my time doing things with my wife and daughters (who—more good fortune—are smart and interesting), and sometimes visit a few close friends or relatives. Since I have the world’s most sedentary occupation, I exercise a bit, take walks, and swim when I can. Above all recreational activities, I suppose I love travel the most, but since it’s time-consuming and expensive, I don’t get to do enough of it.