Sign Up

Get the latest ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit.

All Mystery Coverage

Interview by

After writing several acclaimed novels, British author Jill Paton Walsh was tapped by the Dorothy L. Sayers estate to bring back Sayers’ iconic detecting duo, Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane. Walsh’s fourth Wimsey/Vane mystery, The Late Scholar, has just been published.

When did you discover the Wimsey novels, and what did you admire most about them?
I was about 14, I think, and voraciously reading everything I could lay my hands on. I loved the elegance and wit of both the detection and the characters, and fell hopelessly in love with Lord Peter. I still am.

Continuations of beloved series are seldom as beloved as the originals, yet your Harriet and Peter stories seem to be almost universally enjoyed. What do you think is key to your success?
I think I have a good ear for voices . . . the result of many years working as a novelist. Any novelist needs to be able to write different voices for different characters, and the narrative voice in a novel is one of the characters. The style of Sayers as a narrator is also a voice I remember hearing around me in educated adults when I was a child.

This is your fourth Sayers connection novel, and your second with no firm basis in Sayers’ notes or writing. Was it intimidating to “go off the map,” so to speak? 
Challenging, certainly. In some ways much easier because I could design the plot and episodes freely. But the task is not to write a novel of my own, using Sayers characters, the task is to write as Sayers would have done, or perhaps might have done.

In The Late Scholar, Harriet and Peter are drawn back to Oxford, the place where they got engaged (memorably, in Latin). You attended Oxford not too many years after this book is set. Did you enjoy revisiting it through your writing?
Oh, its been lovely for me to have an excuse to write about Oxford, and to bring Lord Peter very close to my own (nearly) adult experience. Oxford is extraordinarily beautiful, being built of local limestone which is a gorgeous golden colour that reflects even dull light like sunlight. Being a University city it is always full of dazzled and happy young people, of whom I was once one, and nobody ever forgets the happiness of their youth.

The context of the times—moods, trends, current events and even the philosophy of the day—is important in the Wimsey mysteries. Sayers was writing them as contemporaries, though, and you’re doing so from a historical perspective. How do you bring in a contemporary texture?
If you mean how do I bring in a sense of what is contemporary now, I am trying not to do that!  No doubt some things I have not noticed will one day seem laughably 21st century, because when the present changes, so does the view of the past. But perhaps you were asking how did I make things seem as they would have seemed to people reading and writing in the early 1950s?  That is the sort of task a historical novelist has to get right, and I have written a number of historical novels. It involves research, and a kind of synthesis of what you have learned about the period you are writing about, and what you know about human nature now, and then. However, as you have noticed, the 1950s are not history to me, but memory. History is the period before the speaker was born!

When we originally meet them, Peter and Harriet have both been changed (and scarred) by World War I. You’ve had to bring them through World War II. How did this change the characters? 
Since they are “real” people in the world of Sayers novels, they must change as they grow older. To freeze them where Sayers left them would turn them into paper cutouts. Its very interesting to work out how they would change, and how they would remain the people they once were. That’s interesting in the real people we know, too. From Peter’s attitude to his rank, and Harriet’s attitude to his rank, I felt pretty sure they would in a way welcome the hardships of the war, and they way it leveled people in Britain. Everyone had a ration book, and bombs were indiscriminate. I think it would have been Bunter, the manservant, who minded it most, and that’s how I have written them.

One of the most appealing things about this series is the intelligence of the characters and the honesty with which they interact with each other. Did you find attempting to replicate that intimidating? Exciting? Both?
Exciting. And also inspiring. I have tried to live like that myself. And I have been lucky—my second husband, who died, alas, this year, could quote by heart like Lord Peter, and he knew his John Donne.

Peter and Harriet are one of the few detecting teams where the two detectives are equal. Do you think it presents more of a challenge to the reader when there’s not a “sidekick” acting as the reader proxy?
It is indeed a challenge to the reader—and a compliment. Sayers assumed her readers did not need a less-than-brilliant person to identify with. She was writing unashamedly for an elite. They share the mystification of the two detectives, and are entitled to feel satisfaction when the clouds of confusion part and the puzzle is solved. I like it as a narrative strategy, very much.

If you had a chance to meet Dorothy Sayers, what would you say to her?
I would ask her why she abandoned Lord Peter, and Harriet with him. Although I can guess—having brought her two protagonists a long way round into, at last, happy marriage to each other, Sayers had run out of her own experience. She herself, alas for her, had very little experience of a happy marriage.

Why do you think Sayers stopped writing the Wimsey novels?
See above. But also she fell in love again—this time with Dante, and began on her monumental translation of The Divine Comedy, which like the last Lord Peter novel, was unfinished at he death, and was completed for her by her friend, Dr. Barbara Reynolds.

You have said that Lord Peter is “in terms of sheer enjoyment, the best company who has ever lived in my inner world.” Do you still feel that way? Why?
He is complex and modest; he doesn’t take himself seriously, but he does take love and duty, good and evil seriously. And he is endlessly witty. I shall be devastated if he deserts me.

What’s next for you?
I’m thinking about that.

 

A version of this article was originally published in the July 2014 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

After writing several acclaimed novels, British author Jill Paton Walsh was tapped by the Dorothy L. Sayers estate to bring back Sayers’ iconic detecting duo, Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane. Walsh’s fourth Wimsey/Vane mystery, The Late Scholar, has just been published.
Interview by

In a meteoric career that has produced two series and 13 crime novels in as many years, Georgia native Karin Slaughter rocketed to international bestseller status by granting women their rightful place at murder scenes and morgues.

Yet while her growing fan base eagerly awaits each new installment of her Atlanta series featuring Georgia Bureau of Investigation special agent Will Trent (Triptych, Fractured, Broken) and its country cousin starring Grant County medical examiner Sara Linton (Faithless, Indelible, Blindsighted), the restless Slaughter has kept busy crafting her new novel, exploring time travel—and bracing herself for space flight.

What!? Time travel? Space flight? Whose genre is this, anyway?

Slaughter admits her unquenchable thirst to break new ground has prompted a mid-career interest in exploring neighboring galaxies, literary and otherwise.

How did a small-town Southern girl wind up doing weightless somersaults aboard the infamous suborbital “vomit comet,” much less set her sights on a future space flight aboard the Virgin Galactic?

More about that later, though in a way, the process accelerated with Cop Town, her first standalone novel, which takes place back in mid-1970s Atlanta when cops were men and women weren’t welcome. Slaughter first wrote about the period in Criminal (2012), in which she united characters from her two series.

“I had so much fun that I wanted to visit that time period again,” she explains.

Just one problem: “I couldn’t come up with a good reason to put my characters Will and Sara back there, mainly because they would have been children then,” she says. Slaughter herself was only 3 years old at the time.

So she created two very different protagonists: veteran patrolwoman Maggie Lawson, whose brother and uncle are part of the all-male good-ol’-boy network on the Atlanta force, and her new rookie partner Kate Murphy, a Jewish neophyte from a privileged background whose husband was killed in Vietnam. Together, they battle the blatant racism, sexism and cultural ostracism of the day, while working their way into the search for a serial killer who is targeting their ranks.

Slaughter called upon the best possible resource to bring her characters to life.

“I talked to six female police officers who are now retired and in their 60s. If you want to get the truth about something, talk to a 60-year-old retired woman!” she chuckles.

“I thought it would be really interesting to explore the lives of patrol officers, because that’s something I haven’t really done before; normally, they’re detectives. And because there was so little structure to Atlanta policing at the time, a lot of patrol officers did detective work. Sometimes they had to, because the detectives were passed out drunk in their cars. Honestly, that was a real problem!”

To prepare for her immersion into the disco era, Slaughter chose her bedside reading accordingly.

“One of the books I was reading while working on Cop Town was Fear of Flying by Erica Jong,” she says. “Reading it now, this line stuck out to me: ‘An unmarried woman is taking a vow of poverty.’ And for a lot of women today, that’s true. When you combine households and you have someone—a spouse or partner—it makes things easier. If you look at the number of single mothers who are trapped in poverty, it really resonated for me.”

So did the changes America was facing back then.

“It definitely mirrors what we’re going through today: coming out of a very disastrous war, the economy was in the toilet, women’s pay equality, homophobia, racism. It’s easier to talk about these things in the past, because if you talk about them in the present, then you’re kind of a whiny bitch. But if you say, hey, look how bad it was in the ’70s, then you can let people draw their own conclusions,” she says.

She was shocked to hear first-hand accounts of the outright sexism of the day, which was slowly crumbling, in large part due to federal intervention.

“It was a huge change, and like any change, most of the guys didn’t want it to happen,” she says. “In Atlanta, they were also dealing with the fact that the good-ol’-boy network wasn’t white anymore; it was black, and [women] were excluded from it. As Maggie says in the book, ‘The good-ol’-boy network is fine as long as you’re one of the good old boys.’ They didn’t like being left out.”

Why did the women pursue crime fighting? “I asked every woman I talked to why they did it when no one wanted them to, and every single one of them said they did it because someone told them they shouldn’t,” Slaughter says.

A similar instinct may have inspired the author’s interest in space flight. How in the world did she wind up on the vomit comet?

“I was talking to the people at Virgin Galactic about doing the space flight, but my dad said I would have to let a hundred people go up before I go up,” she chuckles. “But one of the things they sponsored was letting us go on the vomit comet. It was really wonderful! If you plan to do it, do it with somebody you know or make friends with somebody, because you can do stuff together in weightlessness, roll people in circles and all that. I had a really great time.”

Slaughter hopes to not only go up in space, but back to the future as well with sequels to Cop Town.

“Maybe every two or three [series] books, I could do one of these, and maybe take Kate and Maggie into the Atlanta child murders in the late ’70s,” she says. “A lot of women worked on the Atlanta child murders. Although they were still plainclothes officers at that point and weren’t really called detectives, they were given what were called ‘vagina crimes,’ so if it came into or went out of a vagina, a woman was the investigator.” After a series of child murders terrified the city, “Women were the ones who started to put the pieces together, and then, of course, the men said, ‘Oh, we need to take this over because it’s a serial killer.’”

Would she one day take the leap into that final frontier, science fiction?

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” she readily admits. “The Centers for Disease Control are right up the street from me, and my neighbors are doctors there, so I’d like to do something, maybe about a virus and some horrible mishap happens. I’d love to do that.”

 

This article was originally published in the July 2014 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

In a meteoric career that has produced two series and 13 crime novels in as many years, Georgia native Karin Slaughter rocketed to international bestseller status by granting women their rightful place at murder scenes and morgues.
Interview by

Malla Nunn's fourth Detective Sergeant Emmanuel Cooper novel, Present Darkness, is our June Whodunit Top Pick! Set in 1953 Johannesburg during the early years of Apartheid, DS Cooper is grappling with the secret of his mixed race identity while aiding in a highly publicized murder investigation. But when one of the suspects turns out to be the son of Cooper's friend, Zulu DS Samuel Shabalala, Cooper can't shake the feeling that police corruption is playing a part. Our columnist, Bruce Tierney, can't get enough of Nunn's "fast-paced, intricate storylines . . .  deeply flawed hero and Oscar-worthy cast of supporting characters."

We chatted with Nunn about her Apartheid setting, her work as a filmmaker and more in a 7 questions interview.

Describe your book in one sentence.
When the son of Detective Sergeant Cooper’s best friend is accused of murder, Emmanuel plunges into the world of corrupt police, thieves and violent township gangs to find the truth.

What inspired you to set your Emmanuel Cooper series in 1950s, apartheid era South Africa?
The 1950s were brutal. My family (who are mixed race) lost jobs, land and relationships as a result of the hard line laws introduced in the early '50s. South Africa was divided into white and non-whites zones and activities that were previously frowned on (interracial sex for example) became criminal offences. I wondered how the police could enforce laws that were fundamentally criminal. The 1950s threw up huge moral choices for every South African and Detective Emmanuel Cooper is our guide through this tumultuous time.

What do you love most about Detective Sergeant Emmanuel Cooper?
I love that Cooper, a World War II vet, views South Africa from an outside perspective. He’s seen the worst in humans and believes that, black or white, people are people and equally capable of kindness and cruelty.

What was your favorite book as a child?
A book of fairy tales by Hans Christian Anderson. Blood, tears, drama and suffering!

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever received?
‘Finish the book.’

How has your work as a filmmaker influenced your writing?
My novels have a strong visual element and are essentially fleshed out films in book form.

What are you working on next?
A novel set in North Carolina about a kick ass female who saves the world. I’m loving the new location.

Malla Nunn's fourth Detective Sergeant Emmanuel Cooper novel, Present Darkness, is our June Whodunit Top Pick! Set in 1953 Johannesburg during the early years of Apartheid, DS Cooper is grappling with the secret of his mixed race identity while aiding in a highly publicized murder investigation. But when one of the suspects turns out to be the son of Cooper's friend, Zulu DS Samuel Shabalala, Cooper can't shake the feeling that police corruption is playing a part. Our columnist, Bruce Tierney, can't get enough of Nunn's "fast-paced, intricate storylines . . . deeply flawed hero and Oscar-worthy cast of supporting characters."
Interview by

R.J. Ellory’s standout new novel, Saints of New York, is our July 2014 Top Pick in Mystery. Past and present storylines are equally compelling in this vast and beautifully written novel.

The characters in Saints of New York—from the corrupt cops to the good cops—are all extremely flawed. They’re also surrounded by a world that is extremely dark, and even the “saints” are far from saintly. Was this a difficult book to write?
I think it’s an honest book, and I try to imbue every book I write with that kind of analysis and exposure of the human condition. I do not want to write material that strains someone’s believability. I understand that we have to suspend disbelief, but I am of the opinion that if you create strong, realistic characters, characters that people can really identify with, then the situations you place those characters in become all the more credible and acceptable. It is people that I am interested in. Emotions, the internal world, the subjective, the relationships and mistakes and passions and aspirations of people . . . all this kind of thing. People are flawed, each and every one of us, and some quite dramatically flawed. I just wanted to write a book that portrayed a real person dealing with real situations, and even though his life is something like a car crash, he does have this one true thread of decency and humanity as an innate part of his own make-up, and this is the thing that keeps him together. The unsettling realities in the book are nevertheless realities, and as one character says, ‘Just when you think you’ve seen the worst that one human being can do to another, someone goes and does something worse.’

Perhaps my favorite parts of the book are when Frank is describing in detail the history of the New York Mafia. What kind of research did you do, and how much of this history is based in truth? (Essentially, are you in danger of getting whacked?)
I would hope that I am always in danger of getting whacked! From exposés of the CIA in A Simple Act of Violence to the government-sanctioned actions of the Mafia in A Quiet Vendetta to anything I have ever written about the police and organised crime, I think that you can’t escape telling the truth. Inevitably, some people are not going to appreciate the truth being told, but if you can’t upset a few people, then what’s the point of writing this kind of book in the first place? As for research, I am a research junkie, to be honest. The information is out there, and people will talk. Using the Internet—not as a source in itself, but as a means by which you can find credible and reliable sources—makes life a lot easier. I tend to operate with the journalistic tenet: Find a source, confirm it twice.

“Inevitably, some people are not going to appreciate the truth being told, but if you can’t upset a few people, then what’s the point of writing this kind of book in the first place?”

You’ve described your writing style as being very organic—no outline or synopsis—which means your thrillers have the potential to surprise even you. Without giving too much away, what was surprising to you about Saints of New York?
I think the realness of it—the way in which I sort of pushed the characters forward only so far, and then they ran with the ball themselves. That may sound odd, but sometimes it really does feel as though the characters become so substantial as people that they influence the direction a novel takes. Speaking of working with no outline or synopsis, the first thing I decide when I embark upon a new book is What emotions do I want to create in the reader? or When someone has finished this book and they think about it some weeks later, what do I want them to remember? That’s key for me. Those are the books that stay with me, and those are the books I am constantly trying to write.

There are a million books that are brilliantly written, but mechanically so.  They are very clever, there are great plot twists, and a brilliant denouement, but if the reader is asked three weeks after reading the book what they thought of it they might have difficulty remembering it. Why? Because it was all very objective. There was no subjective involvement. The characters didn’t experience real situations, or they didn’t react to them the way ordinary people react. It was more of a mental exercise, a puzzle-solving exercise, than a real emotional rollercoaster. In fact, some of the greatest books ever published, the ones that are now rightfully regarded as classics, are those books that have a very simple storyline, but a very rich and powerful emotional pull. It’s the emotion that makes them memorable, and it’s the emotion that makes them special. Character is everything for me, so a book should be filled with the blood of the character, at least figuratively speaking!

In writing this book it changed along the way, as all my books do, and—as I said—they change because the characters become that much more real, and thus they actually begin to inform and influence the direction of the story. I don’t want that to sound pretentious, you know, but I am always working against an emotional barometer. If I don’t feel it, then the reader won’t. Personally, I have a major issue with central characters who are always right, who leap to the wildest conclusions about things, and are then proven right. People are not like that at all. They make mistakes constantly, and investigators and police are the same.

You’re born and bred British but write great, moody American crime. Why the fascination with the United States?
I think I grew up with American culture all around me. I grew up watching “Starsky & Hutch,” “Hawaii Five-O,” “Kojak,” all those kinds of things. I loved the atmosphere, the diversity of culture, the fact that every state is entirely different from every other, and there are 50 of them. The politics fascinated me. America is a new country compared to England, and it just seems to me that there was so much colour and life inherent in its society. I have visited many times now, and I honestly feel like I’m visiting my second home.

And I believe that as a non-American there are many things about American culture that I can look at as a spectator. The difficulty with writing about an area that you are very familiar with is that you tend to stop noticing things. You take things for granted. The odd or interesting things about the people and the area cease to be odd and interesting. As an outsider you never lose that viewpoint of seeing things for the first time, and for me that is very important.

Also many writers are told to write about the things they are familiar with. I don’t think this is wrong, but I think it is very limiting. I believe you should also write about the things that fascinate you. I think in that way you have a chance to let your passion and enthusiasm for the subject come through in your prose. I also believe that you should challenge yourself with each new book. Take on different and varied subjects. Do not allow yourself to fall into the trap of writing things to a formula. Someone once said to me that there were two types of novels. There were those that you read simply because some mystery was created and you had to find out what happened. The second kind of novel was one where you read the book simply for the language itself, the way the author used words, the atmosphere and description. The truly great books are the ones that accomplish both. I think any author wants to write great novels. I don’t think anyone—in their heart of hearts—writes because it’s a sensible choice of profession, or for financial gain. I just love to write, and though the subject matter that I want to write about takes me to the States, it is nevertheless more important to me to write something that can move someone emotionally, perhaps change a view about life, and at the same time to try and write it as beautifully as I can. I also want to write about subjects—whether they be political conspiracies, serial killings, race relations, political assassinations or FBI and CIA investigations—that could only work in the USA. The kind of novels I want to write just wouldn’t work in small, green, leafy villages where you find Hobbits!

What books have been the most influential to your work?
That’s a big question, but I would have to cite Conan Doyle, also Lovecraft, Poe, Ambrose Bierce, a whole host of British and American mystery and horror writers that I read as a child and a teenager.  And then on through Steinbeck, Hemingway, Capote, Carson McCullers, Mailer, DeLillo, Annie Proulx, Tim O’Brien, Cormac McCarthy. I am a huge fan of the different ways in which writers defy the “rules’ of writing.”  Language is so powerful that you can twist it and turn it and still have it hold fast. Nowadays, I spend a great deal of time looking for and reading writers who make me feel like a clumsy and inexperienced writer.

“Language is so powerful that you can twist it and turn it and still have it hold fast.”

What’s next?
Well, we have just released the 12th title in the UK, called Carnival of Shadows. I am currently close to competing the 2015 book for the UK, meanwhile working on numerous and varied music-related projects. I am releasing a graphic novel in France based on a trilogy of short stories called Three Days in Chicagoland, and starting the many and varied tours that happen during the summer and fall. I will be at Bouchercon in Long Island in November, and as for the title that is next to be released in the U.S., I am uncertain. We shall have to wait and see!

We chatted with the British author via email about his masterful new work.
Interview by

Antonio Hill follows up his Spanish sun-soaked crime debut The Summer of Dead Toys with his second Inspector Salgado mystery, The Good Suicides. A cryptic and unnerving message is sent to a select group of managers at a cosmetics company: a horrifying photo of dogs hanging from a tree accompanied by the line, "Never forget." Soon, those on the receiving end of the email begin committing suicide in grotesquely creative ways, and the rattled Salgado is thrust into the investigation.

We caught up with Hill and chatted about Barcelona's best (and not-so-great) qualities, his work in literary translation and more in a 7 questions interview.

Describe your book in one sentence.
After a woman in her 30s jumps in front of a subway train, Inspector Héctor Salgado will discover that one of her colleagues killed his own family and himself not long ago; besides their tragic deaths, working in the same company is the only thing both people have in common. . . .

What do you love most about Inspector Héctor Salgado?
There are a few things in Héctor that I like. For one, he’s stubborn—in the good sense of the word. He never gives up, and not only because he’s paid for doing the job. He is very sensitive to the idea of truth. Justice cannot always be achieved, but at least, for him, we owe the victims the effort of finding the truth and exposing it to the light. He is a good friend and tries to be a decent father, although he knows he’s far from being perfect. But for me, even his bad temper is becoming a good quality now that he’s learning to manage that anger in a positive way.

Both of your novels have been set in Barcelona. What makes Barcelona such a good location for a mystery?
Barcelona is a great location for any sort of story, but it’s been especially [great] in crime fiction, and I can’t explain it. In my case, I wanted to portray a city I love deeply with all its contradictions: Barcelona can be charming and elusive at the same time, and its biggest ambition—to stand out from Madrid, the capital of Spain—has made it a cosmopolitan place. It is perhaps the most “European” of all Spanish cities, but little by little the city has forgotten the needs of its real inhabitants and decided to show the world only a beautiful, modern and sunny façade. The fact that I used a cosmetics lab as a setting in The Good Suicides has something to do with that false idea of beauty that the city tries to project.

Name one book you think everyone should read.
The good thing about reading is that you can choose from millions of books. But if I had to name one or two, I’d pick up To Kill a Mockingbird and One Hundred Years of Solitude.

You have translated a great deal of acclaimed literary fiction from authors such as David Sedaris and Jonathan Safran Foer. What do you enjoy most about translation? 
There is something voyeuristic in translation. You get to know an author’s work even better than him/herself sometimes, [if] only because you have to deconstruct every sentence in order to write it again in a foreign language and, at the same time, keep the rhythm of the prose. It is very hard work and not always appreciated enough by readers and publishers.

What’s at the top of your summer reading list right now?
John Connolly. I cannot wait to read his last novel published in Spain: The Wrath of Angels.

What are you working on next?
I have just finished the third Salgado novel, Los Amantes de Hiroshima, and I plan to take a real break for a couple of months.

Author photo by Jaume Recoder

Antonio Hill follows up his Spanish sun-soaked crime debut The Summer of Dead Toys with his second Inspector Salgado mystery, The Good Suicides. A cryptic and unnerving message is sent to a select group of managers at a cosmetics company: a horrifying photo of dogs hanging from a tree accompanied by the line, "Never forget." Soon, those on the receiving end of the email begin committing suicide in grotesquely creative ways, and the rattled Salgado is thrust into the investigation. We caught up with Hill and chatted about Barcelona's best (and not-so-great) qualities, his work in literary translation and more in a 7 questions interview.
Interview by

August is First Fiction Month on BookPage.com! Click here to read all our First Fiction coverage on the blog; click here to read our most recent coverage of debut novels. 

 

Elizabeth Little is making waves with her clever debut mystery, Dear Daughter. Written with what our Whodunit columnist calls "one of the cheekiest voices in recent memory," Little follows a now-notorious Los Angeles socialite's investigation into her mother's grisly murder: a murder that's been pinned on her. 

We caught up with Little and asked her about life in LA, her favorite heroines in mystery and more in a 7 questions interview.

Describe your book in one sentence.
When ex-LA It girl Janie Jenkins’s murder conviction is overturned—10 years after she went to prison for the death of her mother—she goes undercover to find out once and for all if she’s really as guilty as everyone says.

What do you love most about Janie Jenkins?
Her brains. I decided from the outset that Janie was going to be Paris Hilton: The Evil Genius Remix, and I’m so glad I did. She was such fun to write (even if I had to consult a dictionary sometimes)—and I hope she’s fun to read, too. She isn’t always the gentlest of creatures, but brilliant people tend to be brutally well defended, and I hope that people can see past the prickly surface to the much more expansive character inside.

How has your experience as an LA local influenced your interest in crime and mystery?
I’ve been a sucker for a good mystery since I was a kid: My after-school babysitter had the full library of classic Nancy Drews, and, as soon as I could read them, I worked my way through the entire collection. After that I graduated to Agatha Christie, to Ed McBain, to Elmore Leonard and so on and so forth.

But I’ve also always had a strong interest in noir, and coming to LA has really brought that out in my writing: compared to my beloved British whodunits, Dear Daughter has a harder stylistic edge, a more pessimistic worldview, a darker sensibility.

I often wonder how this book would have turned out if I had written it in any other city, because Janie is so purely a creature of Los Angeles: breezy-beautiful on the outside, sticky-dark on the inside. On the one hand we have beaches and bikram yoga and cafés where the employees are mandated to sit down each morning before work to discuss their “emotional experience.” But then we also have James Ellroy and the Black Dahlia and Sharon Tate. It’s such an eerie, ominous place really. This pervasive sense of past horrors—this underlying darkness that still resonates in the sunny present—has been absolutely key both to Janie’s character and also to the mood and atmosphere of the story as a whole.

(And maybe to me as a whole! But that’s a discussion for another time.)

Who are some of your favorite female protagonists in the mystery genre?
Harriet Vane, first and foremost, forever and ever. (She appears in several of Dorothy L. Sayers’s books, most notably Gaudy Night.) I also adore Mary Russell, the heroine of Laurie R. King’s Sherlock Holmes books. And I’m going to choose to classify the Harry Potter books as mysteries (which isn’t too far off, really) so I can also include Hermione Granger. Three brilliant, forceful women who are partnered with seemingly more powerful men but stubbornly outshine them all.

Name one book you think everyone should read.
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

What’s one piece of advice you would offer to a future debut author?
If you ever read a review that upsets you—that, like, makes your stomach sickly with shame and embarrassment and failure—go onto to Amazon and search for the book version of The Princess Bride. Then read the one- and two-star reviews.

Like this one:

I did not find it particularly funny and I did not like the characters. I suspect that it was a satire, but there was a nasty attitude that I really don't care to go back to.

There are similarly harsh reviews for the movie. For instance:

Silly movie, feels like it was written by a bunch of adolescents with only a beginning understanding of the great stories. Very juvenile.

If there are people out there who can hate The Princess Bride, there are people out there who can hate everything. You’re going to get bad reviews, but it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re bad . . . just that you’re in some good company.

What are you working on next?
Next up is my second mystery with another (hopefully) strong, memorable heroine. The working title is Do As I Say, and my narrator is a former shrink-to-the-stars whose patients all of a sudden start killing themselves—and it’s up to her to figure out what’s really going on. . . .

Author photo by Jonathan Vandiveer

Elizabeth Little is making waves with her clever debut mystery, Dear Daughter. Written with what our Whodunit columnist calls "one of the cheekiest voices in recent memory," Little follows a now-notorious Los Angeles socialite's investigation into her mother's grisly murder: a murder that's been pinned on her. We caught up with Little and asked her about life in LA, her favorite heroines in mystery and more in a 7 questions interview.
Interview by

Agatha Christie's grandson, Mathew Prichard (left), gives the family seal of approval to the new Poirot mystery by writer Sophie Hannah (right).

Question: How does one possibly attempt to add to the crime canon of Agatha Christie, whose 80 mystery novels and short story collections have sold more than two billion copies, trailing only the Bible and her countryman William Shakespeare?

Answer: Very. Very. Carefully.

In fact, since Christie’s death in 1976, Mathew Prichard, the only child of the only child of the queen of crime fiction, who has overseen her literary estate for decades, was dead set against the idea of any author attempting a Christie continuation novel.

But through “a very happy string of coincidences,” the literary world—including those diehard Christie enthusiasts who were “a bit nervous” about the prospect—is poised to fall in love with Dame Agatha all over again, thanks to The Monogram Murders, a darkly twisted new Hercule Poirot mystery crafted by best-selling psychological thriller writer Sophie Hannah (Kind of Cruel).

The Monogram Murders transports us to a coffeehouse in 1920s London, where the idiosyncratic Belgian detective’s supper has been interrupted by a woman who fears for her life. Poirot soon learns why: Three guests at a nearby hotel have been murdered by poison and carefully laid out with a single monogrammed cufflink tucked in their mouths. With Scotland Yard investigating officer and doubting-Thomas apprentice Edward Catchpool at his side, Poirot once again calls upon his “little grey cells” to suss the meaning of every delicious twist in the bizarre case.

Noted suspense writer Sophie Hannah puts her own spin on Christie's quirky Belgian crime-solver, Hercule Poirot.

Throughout, Hannah’s pitch- perfect dialogue and mastery of misdirection combine to weave a tangled tapestry that delights with its period detail, flashes of humor and grim glimpses into our darker nature.

The novel’s birth took an equally circuitous course, dating back several years to when Prichard was editing his grandmother’s letters and photographs for The Grand Tour, a travelogue of Christie’s 1922 yearlong tour of the British Empire.

“I suppose that editing those wonderful, charming letters of my grandmother that had never been published before drew my attention back and did have the effect of thinking about Agatha Christie anew,” he admits.

Slowly, his resolve against authorizing further works under the Christie imprimatur gave way to the realities of modern publishing.

“Our advice was that if we took our courage in both hands and allowed a new Poirot to be written and published, one of the big spinoffs would be a renewal of interest in the real Poirot books,” Prichard says. “So I think in some ways, this is a double event. Obviously, the publication of a new Poirot by Sophie Hannah is an event all on its own, but we also hope it will help renew interest in the real Poirot stories.”

As luck would have it, Hannah’s agent was speaking over lunch with a HarperCollins representative who mentioned in passing that the Christie estate was mulling over a continuation project.

“My agent knew I’d had a couple ideas in mind that I’d always thought of as Agatha Christie-ish, but I’d never quite gotten them to work in my regular titles,” says Hannah. “So when my agent suggested that I write a historical, that’s what won me.”

The happenstance sent Hannah back to the Christie collection that had inspired her own career trajectory. She knew she wanted to set half the book in London, the other half in a rural English village, with Poirot on the case rather than Christie’s venerable Miss Marple.

Prichard could not have been happier with the results.

“I think it’s her portrait of Poirot that is certainly one of my favorite parts of the book,” he says. “I think Sophie got Poirot exactly right; there is the humanity, the flashes of humor—and maybe, although she might deny this, even the occasional moment of irritation, which I think is very much a part of Poirot. Her great sensitivity to the various settings in the book, the hotel and the towns outside of London, are very like Agatha Christie. But some of my favorite bits are pure Sophie Hannah as well.”

The process of re-reading the Christie novels to prepare for the daunting task of filling the shoes of the queen of crime fiction left Hannah a changed person.

“It definitely made me realize afresh what a brilliant writer she is, and it helped change my attitude toward my own life,” she says. “If you do something very different from what you usually do, when you go back to what you usually do, you think about it more consciously. It’s been really good in that sense.”

One question weighs on everyone’s mind: Is the world ready for more Agatha Christie?

“We have promised ourselves to give the first one time to get launched and get a reaction, not only from critics but from the real fans as well, before making up our minds on what we’re going to do,” Prichard explains. “It would surprise me if, occasionally, we didn’t do something like this again, but don’t worry; it won’t be every year or anything like that. I don’t think that would be right.”

How would his famous grandmother have felt about The Monogram Murders?

“My grandmother was a very intelligent person, and I think if you had asked her five years ago whether she wanted someone to write more Poirot stories, she would unquestionably have said no,” Prichard admits. “But if you had told her that if she wanted to prolong the enjoyment that her readers still have for the stories she herself wrote, and that one of the modern ways of doing this was to publish a new version of her character by somebody who is a great fan and admirer of hers, I think that at the very least she would have understood the reasoning.”

So, somewhere Dame Agatha is smiling?

“I’m sure she’s doing that,” he chuckles. “She was very good at smiling.”

 

This article was originally published in the September 2014 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Question: How does one possibly attempt to add to the crime canon of Agatha Christie, whose 80 mystery novels and short story collections have sold more than two billion copies, trailing only the Bible and her countryman William Shakespeare? Answer: Very. Very. Carefully.
Interview by

Fans of Tana French's Dublin Murder Squad novels have undoubtedly been eager to discover the protagonist of her fifth book, The Secret Place. The wait is over, and this time Detective Stephen Moran takes the spotlight in this clever, fast-paced mystery set at an all-girls Irish boarding school. 

We caught up with French and chatted about her love of crime fiction, why everyone should read To Kill a Mockingbird and more in a 7 questions interview.

Describe your book in one sentence.
Detective Stephen Moran gets his longed-for shot at the Murder squad when 16-year-old Holly Mackey brings him a postcard she’s found on the secrets board at her fancy boarding school: a photograph of a murdered boy, with the caption, “I know who killed him.”

Your Dublin Murder Squad series shifts narrators with each book. Why did you choose this structure?
I love reading the traditional series that follow one detective through all the ups and downs of life—P.D. James’s Dalgliesh books, for example—but I’m not interested in writing them. I’m more interested in writing about huge crossroads—moments when the narrator finds himself in a situation where whatever he decides to do will shape the rest of his life. The thing is, though, people don’t get those life-changing moments on a regular basis. So when I started thinking about a second book, I realized that I had three options: keep dumping my poor narrator into huge life-changing situations every couple of years, which not only is pretty implausible but would probably give him a nervous breakdown by about book four; go with the traditional framework of following him through more minor ups and downs, which, again, didn’t interest me; or switch narrator. So I went with the third option: I used a supporting character from In the Woods as the narrator of my next book, The Likeness, and so on.

This also means that I get to focus on different themes in each book, without losing the intensity of the narrator’s connection to the themes. For example, The Secret Place is about friendship, secrets, identity and how it’s defined—and those matter immensely to Stephen Moran, the narrator. For most of my other narrators, those issues aren’t all-important, so the events of this book wouldn’t have anything like the impact on them that they do on Stephen. Instead, their books spin around the themes that matter most deeply to them.

What did you enjoy most about writing from Detective Moran’s perspective?
Contented characters are mostly boring. Reading about someone who’s totally contented and secure is like watching a guy sprawled on his sofa shooting Playstation baddies and eating Doritos: He’s happy, but it’s not exactly fascinating viewing. Stephen Moran is the opposite of that guy: He’s restless right to the bone—constantly searching for the mythical something that will magically transform him into what he dreams of being. I enjoyed writing someone like that, because his lack of a real sense of himself colors the way he sees everything. When he has to work with Antoinette Conway, he’s wary of her because she’s tough and rough-edged, and he doesn’t want to find himself defined by that, even by association. When the case takes him into an elite boarding school, he loves it for the beauty and elegance that he longs to be part of. When their investigation leads them deeper and deeper into the web of friendships among the girls, he’s captivated—and, ultimately, changed—by the way these friendships define and transform them. I liked writing the ways that Stephen’s search for definition drove him forward.

What do you love most about crime fiction?
I love mysteries. I always have. I think this is one of the fundamental things that make us human—our fascination with mysteries, real or fictional, solved or unsolved—and the whole crime genre has grown from that fascination. The genre isn’t just about mysteries and their solutions: it’s about the complex techniques and systems that we’ve developed in order to solve them, about the dedication and passion we pour into that process, the experts who dedicate their lives to it, the ways we succeed or fail at it, about the profound effects mysteries have on those who get caught up in them from every angle . . . This genre is a paean to the crucial part that mysteries play within our lives, and I love that.

I also love the level of insight that crime fiction can offer. Murder happens in every time and place, but the specifics are shaped by the fundamental preoccupations of that society—its deepest fears, its priorities, its most intense desires, its history, its darknesses. In the great crime novels—Dennis Lehane’s Mystic River, say, or Stef Penney’s The Tenderness of Wolves—the murder becomes a window into the dark heart of the society where it happens.

How do you conquer writer’s block?
Touch wood, I don’t think I’ve ever had full-on writer’s block—the kind where a writer is paralyzed to the point where he or she can’t get anything down on paper—but I do get days or weeks when nothing works, I don’t get anywhere near enough written and what I do write is either awful or pointless (oh, look, it’s a cheesy dream sequence and four pages of irrelevant waffle about some character’s childhood). I fight it with rewrites, more rewrites, long walks and caffeine. Lots of caffeine.

Name one book that you think everyone should read.
To Kill a Mockingbird. There are other books that I love even more, in spite of their flaws, but I can’t think of any book that’s so close to perfection. To explore issues like classism and racism without ever being sanctimonious or preachy, to show the story through the eyes of a child without ever getting cutesy or patronizing, to weave together all those separate little storylines without ever letting them feel sloppy or disjointed–it’s a rare author who can manage even one of those, and Harper Lee makes them all look effortless. And that’s before I even start on the writing and the characterization and the atmosphere . . . No wonder she never wrote another book. Where do you go from there?

What’s next?
I’m working on my sixth book, and Antoinette Conway is the narrator this time. She and Stephen are partners in the Murder squad now, but she’s still not getting on well with the rest of the squad, to put it mildly. They pull a case that at first seems like a routine domestic murder, but gradually they realize that someone within their own squad is working against them—and they need to find out whether that’s because someone is desperate to get rid of Conway, or whether there’s more going on.

Author photo by Kyran O'Brien

Fans of Tana French's Dublin Murder Squad novels have undoubtedly been eager to discover the protagonist of her fifth book, The Secret Place. The wait is over, and this time Detective Stephen Moran takes the spotlight in this clever, fast-paced mystery set at an all-girls Irish boarding school. 

Interview by

It’s rare to find two successful writers in one household, and even more rare when both authors have new books published at the same time. But for Tasha Alexander and Andrew Grant, it’s all part of the everyday reality (and delight) of being a married couple who share the same profession: writing novels.

Grant’s new thriller, Run, was published on October 7 by Ballantine, while Alexander’s The Counterfeit Heiress, the ninth book in her Lady Emily mystery series, was released on October 14 by Minotaur. Both Alexander and Grant had launched their careers as writers before they married in 2010, and Grant already had one best-selling author in his family: His older brother is suspense writer Lee Child.

We caught up with the busy couple, who divide their time between Chicago and the U.K., to find about more about the writing life times two.

How do your writing routines differ?

ANDREW: Our approach to our work is very similar in some ways—we’re both very disciplined when it comes to shutting out distractions and doing whatever needs to be done to ensure we never miss a deadline—but I’d say there are two main differences in our routines. The time of day that we work, and what we need to do before we begin. Tasha works early in the morning, whereas I’m better late at night. And Tasha has the extraordinary ability to be fast asleep one minute, then awake and fully functional the next while I need several hours of coffee drinking to cajole my brain into anything approaching a productive state.

TASHA: I like to start first thing in the morning, before I can be distracted by anything else, but Andrew is far more civilized. He has tea, then breakfast, then coffee, and always showers and shaves before sitting down in his office. Me, I am generally in pajamas and guzzling tea all day long. Plus, I work in our bedroom rather than an office. I’ll shower and put on new pajamas before going to bed. This is probably why I could never have a normal job…

"We find that people are very curious about what it is like to have two writers in one house."

Do you ever work side by side? Or would that be too distracting?

ANDREW: We did try this once, and could do it if necessary, but I prefer not to. Tasha just works so fast! It’s dispiriting to be pecking away at the keys on my computer while the smoke is rising from hers as she types at the speed of light…

TASHA: Never, ever, ever—it is far too hard to have someone else right there. Especially when that someone is as charming as Andrew. Way too distracting.

 

 

Do you read and critique each other’s work?

ANDREW: Absolutely. In fact, Tasha is the only person to see my manuscripts before I send them to my agent and editor.

TASHA: Always. We read each other’s work before anyone else. It is incredibly helpful to have someone in the house able to do this—particularly another writer who understands that hideous all-consuming feeling of waiting for someone to read.

Do you ever feel competitive toward one another in terms of success or sales?

ANDREW: Absolutely not! What would be the point? That would be crazy. We’re on the same side, and I honestly believe we each find more pleasure in the other’s successes than in our own. Plus writing is not a zero sum game. For one of us to succeed, it’s not necessary for the other—or anyone else, for that matter—to fail. In fact, it’s the opposite. If a reader buys a book and enjoys it, they’re more likely to buy another, then another, so everyone wins.

TASHA: Definitely not. My perfect scenario would be for Andrew to be the world’s best-selling author.

Have you ever toured or made book appearances together?

ANDREW: Yes! Quite often. I love doing it, and I think we work very well together.

TASHA: We find that doing events together is loads of fun. Our books tend to appeal to different audiences, but often wives like mine and their husbands like his. We find that people are very curious about what it is like to have two writers in one house.

How is Tasha’s personality reflected in her writing style?

ANDREW: Tasha is very clearly reflected in her writing because on the surface her style is beautiful and witty, but underneath her books are intelligent, captivating, and extremely well informed.

How is Andrew’s personality reflected in his writing style?

TASHA: Andrew is sleek and spare, like his prose.

Though you both work in the same general area (mystery/suspense), your books are very different. Can you each of you really appreciate and enjoy the other’s work?

ANDREW: I certainly believe so. Tasha is a master storyteller who incorporates a range of magnificent, captivating characters so her books are very easy to appreciate! Plus writers tend to be voracious readers, and generally enjoy a wide range of genres beyond their own.

TASHA: Absolutely. I have always read widely across genres, so it’s not a stretch to read Andrew’s work. I really appreciate his consummate skill when it comes to writing action scenes and the way he makes his prose reflect the way his protagonists think. The man is good. Very good.

What’s the very best thing about being married to someone who shares your profession?

ANDREW: I feel very privileged to be the first person in the world to read Tasha’s new material, but beyond that I think it’s enormously beneficial to live with someone who intimately understands the peculiarities of what really is a very bizarre way to make a living.

TASHA: We both wholly understand each other’s situations, and that is a true gift. We don’t have to explain the industry, and we instinctively know what times in the process will be more stressful, consuming, or joyous. Makes it a lot easier to anticipate each other’s needs.

 

It’s rare to find two successful writers in one household, and even more rare when both authors have new books published at the same time. But for Tasha Alexander and Andrew Grant, it’s all part of the everyday reality (and delight) of being a married couple who share the same profession: writing novels.

Interview by

Czech writer Heda Margolius Kovály, best known for her memoir chronicling her time in Auschwitz (Under a Cruel Star), drew from her later harrowing experiences in 1950s Soviet Prague for her only work of fiction, Innocence. This espionage thriller follows the chilling and stifling atmosphere of political oppression during the post-WWII days of Communist Czechoslovakia. Friends and neighbors are suddenly not to be trusted as informants are hidden everywhere, and innocence begins to lose meaning to those in the government. Innocence is available in an English translation for the first time thanks to award-winning literary translator and co-chair of the PEN America Translation Committee, Alex Zucker. We asked Zucker a few questions about his translation process for Innnocence, the Czech language and more.

In past interviews, you have somewhat jokingly compared translators to dockworkers. Why do you think translators are so underappreciated in the literary world? 
I think there are three types of reasons for it: psychological, cultural and legal. 1.) Psychological because many translators are the kind of people who don’t like to call attention to themselves. Some don’t even mind when their name doesn’t appear on the covers of the books they translate. Maybe this has to do with the fact that the ability to subsume your own personality—or, more accurately, your personal preferences—to that of the writer you’re translating is a requirement for a translator to be skillful. Humility is far from the only requirement, but it is fundamental. 2.) Cultural because the idea of authorship is so primary to our understanding of literature. Every work of translated literature has (at least) two authors, and the relationship between them can be hard to wrap your head around. It’s easier just to ignore. As Stephen King told the New York Times, “I actually avoid novels in translation when I can, because I always have the feeling that the author is being filtered through another mind.” (And as a translator friend of mine quipped in response, “Lucky all the other books don't get edited, then!”) 3.) Legal because for a long time literary translation contracts were written as work-for-hire agreements, meaning that translators gave away ownership (copyright) of their work to the publisher. As a result, translators’ names were erased from literary history. This still goes on today, though we don’t have the data to know whether it’s happening more or less than it used to.

Did you ever have a chance to meet Heda Margolius Kovály before her death in 2010?
No. I’m sorry to say I did not. I did meet her son, though, and we corresponded throughout my work on the translation.

When did you start studying Czech, and what drew you to the language? 
I began studying Czech in 1988, following my first trip to the Czechoslovak Socialist Republic in 1987. After going there, I decided I wanted to work on human rights in Czechoslovakia, so my interest in the language was initially as a tool to that end. But then I went to get a degree in international affairs and studied Czech with Peter Kussi, one of Milan Kundera’s translators. I was already fluent in French, but had never thought to translate, so Peter gets the credit for inspiring me to go down that path.

What do you love most about Czech literature?
As I said, my initial interest was not in literature, but in human rights, although it was a Milan Kundera novel, The Unbearable Lightness of Being (in Michael Henry Heim’s translation), that introduced me to the political reality of Czechoslovakia in particular and Communist Eastern Europe in general. So from a reader’s perspective, what got my attention was the difference (for lack of a better word) from the mostly U.S. and West European writing that I had read up to then: more black humor, more overt politics, more foregrounding of history. From a translator’s perspective, now, nearly 30 years later, I still appreciate those features of Czech literature, but what I enjoy about translating is more the experience of working with language. The decoding and recoding. And I love the end result of having a book I can touch and hold and share with other people—that matters a lot to me.

How long did you spend on this translation project?
Depends how you count, since I’m always working on multiple projects simultaneously. But, roughly, three months translating and another two months or so editing.

Do you read many mysteries in your off time? 
No, none at all.

Was there a section or scene in the novel that was particularly difficult to translate?
Dialogue is always tricky. Readers (and critics) are more willing to suspend their disbelief that a character is Czech yet by some work of magic is “speaking” (or thinking) in English when reading a narrator’s voice. As soon as you put quotation marks around a character’s words, it sets off an alarm, raises a flag. “Wait. Is that how a Czech person in 1950s Prague would say that? In . . . Czech? English? Wait. How are they supposed to sound?” Suddenly the spell is broken, and readers can no longer ignore the fact that they’re reading a translation. They bridle. I think it’s a natural reaction, but it’s just that: a reaction, as opposed to a response involving thought about what options the translator has. If you as a translator ignore the fact that characters are speaking in colloquial language and using slang vocabulary, and portray them as using neutral language, you’re taking away part of what defines them. On the other hand, how far can you push it and still be convincing? I suppose it’s analogous to U.S. actors speaking with a German accent when they play Nazi Germans in Hollywood films about World War II. It would seem strange, wouldn’t it, if they sounded too “American”?

Is there a particular translator whose work you admire and are inspired by? 
I already mentioned Peter Kussi. Paul Wilson was also instrumental in my formation as a translator. He was the first experienced translator to edit my work, and for decades now has served as an informal mentor to me. His 1989 translation of Bohumil Hrabal’s I Served the King of England was also the first translation I ever read side by side with the original, an invaluable learning experience that I would recommend to every translator. We probably all do it at some point.

Are you interested in writing a novel of your own some day?
I’ve had ideas for novels—like lots of people I know—but never any real drive to sit down and write one.

What projects are you working on next?
Next year my translation of Tomáš Zmeškal’s first novel, Love Letter in Cuneiform, is coming out with Yale University Press. At the end of June I’ll be turning in a novella from the mid-1950s, Midway Upon the Journey of Our Life, by Josef Jedlička, for Charles University Press. Incredibly, there has been only one Czech work from the ’50s published in English before (Josef Škvorecký’s The Cowards, translated by Jeanne Němcová), so that’s an exciting one. Then I have a novel by Magdaléna Platzová, The Anarchist, for Bellevue Literary Press, due at the end of August, and I’m hoping soon to sign a contract to publish Angel Station, the only work of Jáchym Topol’s that has yet to appear in English. Also, by the end of the year, I’ll be finishing Arnošt Lustig’s novel Colette, a job I’ve been hired to do by the author’s daughter, so there’s no publisher for it yet.

 

Czech writer Heda Margolius Kovály, best known for her memoir chronicling her time in Auschwitz (Under a Cruel Star), drew from her later harrowing experiences in 1950s Soviet Prague for her only work of fiction, Innocence. This espionage thriller follows the chilling and stifling atmosphere of political oppression during the post-WWII days of Communist Czechoslovakia. Neighbor and friends are suddenly not to be trusted, as govenrment informants are hidden everywhere, and innocence begins to lose meaning to those in the government. Innocence is available in an English translation for the first time due to award-winning literary translator and co-chair of the PEN America Translation Committee, Alex Zucker. We asked Zucker a few questions about his translation process for Innnocence, the Czech language and more.

After 11 years, seven national best-selling books and a hit television series that became something of a pop culture phenomenon, author and Dexter series creator Jeff Lindsay closes out the series with his eighth and aptly titled final novel, Dexter Is Dead.

Unlike the star of the iconic television series for Showtime and later CBS, which was loosely based on the first two novels, the literary version of Dexter has far less redeeming qualities than the likable character portrayed by actor Michael C. Hall. In this suspenseful final installment, Dexter has lost everything and faces a murder charge—ironically, for a slaying he’s not responsible for.

Lindsay talks candidly about Dexter’s surprising success, his decade-long relationship with the iconic character and his uncertain future as a novelist and playwright.

It’s been more than a decade since you wrote Darkly Dreaming Dexter. Did you have any idea then that you were just beginning to explore a character and storylines that would still be here eight books later?
No, and it’s kind of weird. All my life I’d wanted to write a series. I’d started one (Tropical Depression and Red Tide, coming soon as eBooks from Diversion Books), and the publisher, Don Fine, promised me he was going to build it up and make it work. But he died, and nobody else jumped out to grab it. I started to wonder if it was going to happen for me, and in kind of a dark, angry place, I thought, “I’ll show them. . .” And I wrote Darkly Dreaming Dexter. I never in a million years thought it would be a series, nor intended it to be one. I mean, I told the story, it ended—how could it go on?

"I thought it would be easier. But when I was done, my wife pointed out to me that my behavior was showing all the classic signs of grieving."

After living with this ongoing series of stories for so long, how do you go about bringing it to a close?
Well, I hope I go about it the right way. It took a lot of thought and a lot of work, and you can never be sure, but I think I did it in a way that won’t let my readers down. You know, that’s what I live for—at heart, I’m an entertainer, and I want people to leave the theater satisfied.

Because it’s been eight books and more than a decade, is it easy to finally say, “I’m done with it”? Or does that investment make it harder to and, perhaps, scarier to close that chapter of your creative life?
You know, I thought it would be easier. But when I was done, my wife pointed out to me that my behavior was showing all the classic signs of grieving. I didn’t even know. So I guess I miss him. But I had always promised that, if I ever started phoning it in, I would quit. I wasn’t there yet, but I could feel it around the corner, so—is it scary? Hell, yes. I’m terrified. I secretly believe that nobody really likes me—they like him—and without him I’m scared that nobody will want to read me anymore.

The title Dexter Is Dead is fairly definitive, but there’s a previous interview where you noted there being a little ambiguity. Could you bring the series back? Would you want to?
I hope there’s always ambiguity. They taught me in college that ambiguity is good. It’s very powerful and moving—I saw Gone Girl recently, and the ambiguous ending was fantastic. It keeps you thinking about it; what’s going to happen? Who will do what to whom? I love that. I always try for that quality. But the series, the character Himself—I have no plans to bring it back.

What would it take to revisit this series?
It would take three things to bring the series, and the character, back. First, there would have to a groundswell of support for the idea. I would have to feel the love. Second, I would have to feel that I could do it justice—as I said before, I don’t ever want to phone it in. And third, it would have to be worth my while, and not just financially, although, you know, this is how I make my living.

You had incredible success with Dexter as a series. Will you look to create another series or look to write some stories that are independent of one another?
I think I would very happily launch another series—but I’d also like to try some one-shot stuff. I mean, Dexter was never intended as a series. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanted to read even ONE book about a lovable serial killer. But a new series would be fun, now that I practiced. And I want to get back to some theater, too—I’ve been working on a few new plays, dusting off some old ones. I have a little time right now, and there’s a giddy sense of freedom, of unlimited possibility. But it’s also like jumping off a cliff. On the one hand, it’s “Damn! I’m flying!” And on the other, I know the ground is coming up at me fast. But I think I’ll let people know pretty soon what happens next. I just hope they care.

 

Author photo credit Hilary Hemingway.

After 11 years, seven national best-selling books and a hit television series that became something of a pop culture phenomenon, author and Dexter series creator Jeff Lindsay closes out the series with his eighth and aptly titled final novel, Dexter Is Dead. Lindsay talks candidly about Dexter’s surprising success, ending his own decade-long relationship with the iconic character and his own uncertain future as a novelist and playwright.

Interview by

Writing a gripping mystery is a lot like performing a masterful magic trick—knowing when to grab the audience’s attention, when to provide distractions and how to wrap it all up with a dazzling finale.

British mystery master Elly Griffiths enters the world of illusionists with The Zig Zag Girl, the first in a new series that has us looking behind the curtain in a whole new way.

 
Playbill

One of Griffiths' grandfather's playbills: Dennis Lawes "on laughter service."

Tell us a little about the World War II Magic Gang that inspired this new series—including your own family connection.
My granddad, Frederick Goodwin (stage name Dennis Lawes), was a music hall comedian, modestly famous between the wars. Granddad was often on the bill with a well-known magician called Jasper Maskelyne. During the Second World War, Maskelyne was a part of a group called the Magic Gang, recruited for their skills in camouflage and stage magic. The Magic Gang were based in North Africa where they created dummy tanks, ghostly platoons and a fake battleship called HMS Houdin. I’ve adapted some of these escapades for the Magic Men in The Zig Zag Girl.

The Magic Men are flamboyant showmen, very different from what fans might expect from the creator of Ruth Galloway, forensic archaeologist. What drew you to these characters?
I was passionate about acting at school and university and would have loved to pursue it as a career. But I was drawn to the world of music hall by my grandfather and—more specifically—by the playbills that he left me in his will. These bills are a treasure trove of long-forgotten acts: Lavanda’s Feats with the Feet, Lou Lenny and her Unrideable Mule, Raydini the Gay Deceiver. I knew that one day I would have to write about them.

How was it different to write about 1950s Brighton than the Norfolk marshes featured in your Ruth Galloway series?
I’ve lived in Brighton since I was 5, so in some ways it was a lot easier. If I needed to research a location I’d just pop out and have a look. But in other ways it was more difficult. I think there is something to be said for writing about somewhere slightly alien to you. I spent a lot of time in Norfolk as a child, but it still seems huge and slightly frightening. I almost know Brighton too well, and it’s a safe and happy place for me. However, the 1950s setting helped make it seem more mysterious.

Some of the murders here are pretty gruesome, yet the book doesn’t have a dark tone. Do you consider it important to focus on the optimism of your investigators rather than the depravity of the villain?
The Zig Zag Girl definitely contains my more gruesome murders to date! However, I don’t like writing—or reading—about gratuitous violence. I haven’t described any of the crimes in too much detail, and I have tried to lighten things up with a bit of humor here and there. For me, it’s important to focus on the characters and not on the mechanics of murder.

Is the charismatic Max Mephisto based on a particular magician?
His career is based on Jasper Maskelyne’s. However, I think Max also owes a bit to my father and grandfather—both handsome, urbane, charming men. My grandfather had three wives—all dancers—and was still a debonair man-about-town in his 80s.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our review of The Zig Zag Girl

 

This article was originally published in the September 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

British mystery master Elly Griffiths enters the world of illusionists with The Zig Zag Girl, the first in a new series that has us looking behind the curtain in a whole new way.
Interview by

Woe be unto the free-range American reader who casually picks up any of Louise Penny’s Chief Inspector Gamache mysteries, set in the French-Canadian village of Three Pines, expecting a “Murder, She Wrote”-style cozy. The author erupts at the mere suggestion. 

“To call them cozies is to completely misread!” she protests by phone from her home in Sutton, a French-speaking village in Québec, east of Montreal. “I get very annoyed at anyone who calls them cozies, or even traditional. I think it’s facile for people to think that anything set in a village must, per force, be superficial and simplistic.”

Far, far from either, Penny’s addictive series may be the quintessential anti-cozy, centered as it is on a village that bears more resemblance to Twin Peaks than Cabot Cove and an erudite chief inspector of the Sûreté du Québec whose demons are never far behind him.

Publisher Minotaur Books says more than three million copies of the Inspector Gamache books have been sold worldwide since the series debuted in 2006, with growing sales and buzz for each new release. Penny’s 11th Gamache mystery, The Nature of the Beast, marks her largest first printing ever.

As series devotees know, the brooding, wounded Armand Gamache left the Sûreté and retired to Three Pines after tearing the lid off of internal corruption in 2013’s How the Light Gets In, only to resurface last year, shaken but not deterred, in The Long Way Home. Penny focuses as much on whether Gamache will overcome his demons as on whether his next demon will be his last. 

In The Nature of the Beast, 9-year-old Laurent Lepage goes missing after annoying the townspeople yet again with another of his signature far-fetched stories, this one about a monster and an enormous gun hidden deep in the surrounding woods. When the boy’s body is found, the search for his killer leads authorities to the unthinkable: an enormous rocket launcher, expertly concealed, provenance unknown. 

Who built it? How? And most importantly, why? It’s just the knotty puzzler to lure Gamache and his ever-inquisitive wife, Reine-Marie, out of early retirement.

A similar unfathomable horror—the terrorist attacks of 9/11—proved to be a game-changer for Penny as well. Back in 1996, after jettisoning an 18-year on-air career with the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation and winning a 14-year battle with alcoholism, she’d retreated with her physician husband Michael to the Eastern Townships to try her hand at historical fiction. But five years in, she was getting nowhere.

“I realized I was writing for the wrong reason; I was trying to impress my family, my former colleagues—trying to write the best book ever written. The judgment of others has played a terrible role in my life for much of my life, and I became frozen,” she recalls.

Shortly after 9/11, a desultory glance at her bedside table helped dispel her ennui.

“Like most people, I read catholically; I read just about anything. But among my pile of books were crime novels. I remember sitting on my bed looking at them and thinking, that’s it! I will simply write a book I would want to read,” she says.

Those tenuous, post-traumatic days even inspired where she would set her mysteries.

“I was feeling, like the rest of the world, fairly vulnerable and thinking that the world might be a dangerous place, and I wanted to create a place where there was a sense of belonging and community,” she recalls. “The books aren’t about murder; they’re about life and the choices that we make, and what happens to good people when such a harrowing event comes into their lives. It’s an exploration of human nature, I hope.”

Re-inspired by her new direction, Penny tripped out of the gate by shooting for a perfect first draft.

“The danger, at least for the first couple of books, was that I had to get it right the first time. As a result, it paralyzed me because it didn’t allow for creativity, for flights of fancy, for inspiration,” she says.

That’s when her years of journalism with the CBC crashed the party, lending offbeat spontaneity and quirky humor to the otherwise serious task at hand.

“My first drafts are piles of something very soft and smelly. They’re huge, almost double the size of the final book,” she chuckles. “I throw everything in—I have to—and then I edit, because I know I’m good at editing. That’s part of the beauty of having a big, messy first draft, because then I feel like I’m in a warehouse full of ideas and words and thoughts and stories. Then I can just pick and choose.”

Her unique creative process produces that rarest of wonders in fiction: verisimilitude. In Three Pines, clues to the mystery are often dropped casually over café au lait at the bistro, and so subtly that we talk ourselves to sleep wondering whether to trust them, and if they’ll ultimately form a whole. Only a writer with Penny’s instincts could wait until an author’s note at the end of The Nature of the Beast to reveal a walloping fact that’s as shocking as the book’s climax (don’t peek; it’s worth the wait!).

While it’s not a spoiler to note that a serial killer haunts this latest installment, Penny admits she’s not about the body count, and never will be.

“I’ve been on a number of writer panels where people say, ‘Well, when it gets slow or boring, I just throw in another body!’ And I think, that can’t be right,” she says. “I’m not interested in body counts or serial killers; I’m really interested in the why. What would make a real-life human being do something like that? The murder is just a conceit to allow me to look at all sorts of other issues.”

Which explains why the village setting not only appeals to Penny, but may well have been inevitable.

“What always amazes me is, there is a tendency to dismiss crime novels set in a village or rural setting rather than in a city. As someone who lived in cities all my life, murders in Montreal are in the briefs column of the newspaper. It’s always tragic but it’s not horrific; it’s not a shock, it doesn’t set the whole community on edge,” she says. “But a murder in a tight-knit community? How big of a violation is that? Not only has a person’s life been taken, but your whole sense of security has been taken. And knowing that someone you know was murdered and someone you know did it? How horrific is that?”

Although Penny had a brief brush with cinema, serving as a consultant and executive producer on the 2013 film version of her first Gamache novel, Still Life, she’s an admittedly poor candidate to go Hollywood anytime soon.

“I don’t know about films. I was involved, but I’m not anymore, by my own choice. While they did consult me, they did not take a great deal of what I said; there was no onus on them to take anything to heart, and I found that very difficult,” she recalls.

Nor should readers expect any non-Gamache standalones. Penny readily admits she has found the perfect cast and setting to accomplish her primary goal as a mystery writer.

“I want the reader to care, and if you don’t care, why bother? I want the books and characters to follow the reader for days or weeks after,” she says. 

“I want to try to bring down the fourth wall, to where they feel they’re actually sitting in the bistro listening to the conversation; they can smell the wood smoke and taste the café au lait and feel what the characters are feeling. I think if someone just reads my book with their head, they’re missing probably two-thirds of the book. You have to absorb it through your heart.”

This article was originally published in the September 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Woe be unto the free-range American reader who casually picks up any of Louise Penny’s Chief Inspector Gamache mysteries, set in the French-Canadian village of Three Pines, expecting a “Murder, She Wrote”-style cozy. The author erupts at the mere suggestion.

Sign Up

Stay on top of new releases: Sign up for our newsletter to receive reading recommendations in your favorite genres.

Recent Reviews

Author Interviews

Recent Features