FEATURED INTERVIEW
with novelist ALLAN GUTHRIE
by
Mel Cartagena | Lowell, MA
(Allan Guthrie is the author of the noir novels TWO WAY SPLIT (2004) and KISS HER GOODBYE (2005). He has also published several short stories in a variety of magazines and anthologies, is webmaster/editor of Noir Originals and commissioning editor for both Pulp Originals and PointBlank Press. He lives in Edinburgh, Scotland with his wife, Donna.)
Itís my first time doing this, so letís start with some basic facts. Where were you born? Raised?
Born and raised in Kirkwall, Orkney (small town on a small island off the north coast of Scotland). An ideal place to grow up. I was back up there recently for my grandfather's funeral and I'm sad to say that it appears it's lost its innocence. Whilst I was there, I picked up a copy of the local paper. I still have it. There's a paragraph headed: Serious Vandalism in Kirkwall, which goes on to explain how a plant was uprooted from a private garden and some plant pots left lying in the middle of the road. A police spokesman was quoted as saying 'a serious accident could have occurred.' When I was a child, nobody would have dared perpetrate such a crime. Ah, the youth of today...
They should count themselves lucky. They have yet to deal with teenage alcohol/drug abuse and suburban vandalism born out of boredom. So there were no sudden violent incidents during your formative years there? No husband suddenly taking an axe to his wife? No paternal abuse? No lineal descendants of the Bean Clan? Nothing that roused your interest in abnormal/criminal psychology?
As you guys say, Iíll take the fifth on this one.
Alright, but when you look back on your childhood now, how do you remember it? Fondly? Resentful? Angry?
A heady mix of anger and anxiety. I was brought up in a very religious environment and I struggled with it from as early as I can recall. I was also a precocious musician (though unfortunately I was phobic about performing in public) and attended a specialist music school several hundred miles away in Manchester, England, from the age of 14. I no longer play, but the self-discipline which came from hours of daily piano practice has been extremely useful to me as a writer.
I guess you chose the right craft for someone who shuns the public spotlight.
I hope youíre being sarcastic! Iíve had more public engagements in the first month of being published than I had in the previous 20 years.
No, I was serious. I had no idea you had such a busy schedule. You ever wonder what frightens you about facing a crowd from a stage or a dais?
Nope. I donít like being centre-stage. Never have, and never will.
Any other fears or phobias?
Just the normal ones. Buttons, staplers, blue hand towels. And crucifixes.
I can understand buttons and staplers, but blue hand towels? Crucifixes? What about red or yellow hand towels? Metal or plastic crucifixes?
Iím fine with all of those.
Youíve had two books published in the U.S., but just recently (September 15, according to my notes) the UK version of Two-Way Split came out. Did this just work out that way or what your agent negotiated for you?
It just worked out that way.
Can you think back to the exact moment you decided writing was your calling?
I've never thought it was my calling, although there have been several occasions throughout my life where I thought I might like to write for a living. But I didn't decide to make a serious attempt at doing so until the turn of the millenium. First step was learning how to write. That took a couple of years and a couple of novels and a mountain of books on the craft of writing. My third book was the first to get published.
So can I assume youíd been ëscribblingí for some time? Writing things here and there for fun, without much thought to a deeper commitment?
My first short story appeared in the school magazine when I was five. I completed my first novel when I was nine.
Why crime, as opposed to science fiction, or 'literature'? (Don't you just hate this genre system that dictates you have to be one or other kind of writer?)
I don't consciously try to write within the genre. But several aspects of crime writing fascinate me: mortality and abnormal psychology, for instance. So I do tend to stick around the crime writing territory. Not mystery, though. I don't write mystery novels. I'm not necessarily so keen on puzzle solving. And detectives with no emotional stake in the outcome of a case tend to leave me cold. It's no coincidence that my favourite detectives are the ones who are fucked up, or fucked over, or both. And I can't write authority figures without ripping the piss out of them, so I tend to focus on the criminals.
Did you have an idea of what you wanted to do when you started your first novel? Or what you didnít want to do?
My first attempt at a crime novel was very much in the Christopher Brookmyre/Charles Higson style. My second was more of a thriller. Not until my third novel (TWO-WAY SPLIT), did I realize I was onto something, although I had no real clear idea of what I wanted to write, other than that it was going to be dark.
Off the top of your head, what writers youíd say have influenced you the most? European and American?
Thatís tough to answer. In the UK, the term ëEuropeaní excludes British writers, and thatís probably fairly accurate in terms of my current influences (not necessarily of my current reading, though). These days I do find myself reading a lot of American crime fiction, and a large chunk of what I read is pre-1970. Iím extremely fond of Hammett and his contemporaries (P. J. Wolfson, Benjamin Appel, W.R. Burnett, Edward Anderson, James Cain, particularly) but my main influences come from the 50s: David Goodis, Lionel White, Day Keene, David Karp, Gil Brewer ñ to name but a few. There are other influences, though. Jacobean drama, for instance. Wonderfully dark stuff. And Max Frisch, Eugene Ionesco, Dostoevsky, Camus, Kafka. I particularly enjoy the Absurdists. To my mind, thereís a close connection between absurdity and noir. Pick up a novel by Charlie (not Charles) Williams or Duane Swierczynskiís SECRET DEAD MEN and youíll see what I mean. Incidentally, just because somethingís influential doesnít make it good. And just because somethingís good doesnít make it influential. Iím sure you know that, but I just wanted to clarify that by saying somethingís influential, Iím not necessarily endorsing it. It may even be the case that ëinfluentialí writing ought to be avoided. Ionesco, for instance, isnít big on plot. Use RHINOCEROS as a template and youíll probably struggle to get that particular crime novel published. Mind you, Iíd happily read it.
Yeah, like Britney Spears is influential, but far from talented. On the other hand, many people will never know of the fantastic works of Gerald Kersh or Gil Brewer, and Jim Thompson almost suffered a similar fate, and letís not forget Dan Marlowe. Is there any writer you feel should have gotten better treatment from the world at large but died in obscurity instead?
A lot of writers died in obscurity but were discovered or re-discovered posthumously. Kafka, for one. Jim Thompson, who you mentioned, for two. David Goodis, for three. Even Gil Brewerís making something of a comeback, with all the movies (3-WAY was utter crap, but I have high hopes for 13 French Street; Memory of Passion has been optioned too). Whatís worse is to die reasonably well known, but not get reprinted. Or the worst of the lot, perhaps: to live and write in obscurity, which is the reality for most of todayís writers. In the paperback heyday you were assured a massive print-run. Half a million copies wasnít that unusual, so a debut author could create an almost instant fan base. Canít do that any more, cause the print runs are way too small, even for mass market titles. Itís very difficult to make a living exclusively as a writer. It always has been, but I think itís harder than ever now. Particularly in the States, where advances seem to be much lower than in the UK (it may just look that way because of the exchange rate). But nobody asks us to become writers and the world owes us nothing. If we die in obscurity, at least we tried. Itís much easier not to make the effort; not to give your life over to writing every weekend and evening whilst working fulltime; not to set yourself up for rejection after rejection; not to expose yourself to criticism you have no means of replying to; not to give yourself the chance to fail. If you get published, itís possible (no, likely) that youíll die in obscurity. But youíll have achieved the near-impossible whilst you were alive, so who gives a fuck what happens when youíre dead? (Bit of a rant there, sorry).
While I've got you worked up tell me a little about Kiss Her Goodbye. The bloodlines discussed at the end of the book remind me of soap operas, but the path to THE END is mayhem and bloodshed.
Itís about a fatherís attempt to deal with the suicide of his teenage daughter. As if that wasnít difficult enough, his wife gets killed and heís the prime suspect for the murder.
I found it funny how at the beginning Joe Hope tries to keep a tough front, but his nagging wife and the grief of the news of his daughter betray him. Itís almost like a little boy trying to be tough in the face of a spanking.
Heís very immature, which is almost as common a criminal trait as egotism.
The artwork for Kiss Her Goodbye (and for the whole Hardcase Crime series) is fantastic. Lurid and bold, alive with color and motion. Itís a throwback to the days of the Gold Medal and Ace paperbacks. It must be a heady feeling to be in the same line of paperbacks as Donald Hamilton, Lawrence Block and Donald Westlake?
Itís a superb line, with some terrific authors on board. The ones you mention are great, but perhaps the biggest thrill for me is to be on the same list as Wade Miller, who wrote the original KISS HER GOODBYE, and Day Keene, whose reprinted HOME IS THE SAILOR was a personal recommendation of mine to Hard Case Crime.
Will you be writing for Hardcase Crime in the near future?
KISS HER GOODBYE was a one-book deal, so, no, not in the near future. But longer term? You never know.
I just finished reading Two-Way Split. It has the same melancholy (to me) feel of Kiss Her Goodbye, but the characters are more perverted. Just about everyone has a skeleton or a demon in their closet, and they seem to come out at the worst of times.
ìMore pervertedî. I like that.
Did you model Robin Greaves after yourself? You and he have a musical background in common.
And heís extremely perverted! Um, the short answer is that I lifted some of my backstory, but thatís because it was a perfect fit for the character. Unlike Robin, though, Iíve no history of mental illness, and despite my musical background, I never wanted to be a performer.
Is he (Robin) the protagonist of the novel or Pearce? I found myself rooting for Pearce. He seems the most stable of the bunch; a guy just trying to get by, but to whom bad stuff keeps happening. Seemingly a doomed character, like a hardboiled version of Willy Lomax.
Robin is the protagonist, Pearce is the hero. Robinís noir, Pearce is hardboiled. Robin supplies the engaging insanity, Pearce supplies the emotional heart. I think.
Any chance of Kiss Her Goodbye? (however slim) becoming a movie?
I would like to think so. Filmís a visual medium, and Kiss is pretty heavy on dialogue, so Iíll probably have a go at adapting it myself and try to sell the screenplay rather than the source material.
When can we expect new material from you?
I have a couple of books almost finished, but nothing quite ready to shop around yet. Youíll have to be patient.
Alright Allan, I think thatís all. Thanks for your time, and good luck with upcoming projects.
Thank you, Mel.