An Interview with Novelist Roy Freirich

An Interview with Novelist Roy Freirich

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Imagining the End of Sleep

Have you ever worried about being unable to fall asleep?
I have, and the worry itself began to keep me awake, in a kind of meta, vicious cycle.  

But, why?  What’s so great about sleep?
It’s a question I used to ask, before I knew better. 

I’ve led multiple lives as a writer, and each one gave me the same answer. In recording studios mixing songs, or in my office writing sentences of novels and drafts of screenplays, the longer I worked, the better the results.  Until… diminishing returns set in, and song mixes were merely different and no better than one another, sentences were overbaked, script scenes over-complicated and finicky — all as the work hours intruded on normal sleep hours.  The jury is in: deprivation results in diminished capacity in any area of endeavor. In my case, the stakes are admittedly low—if I write a weak line of song lyric, or a cheesy scene in a movie, we all live to tell. But if I were a surgeon, an airline pilot, a truck driver, a crane operator….?

When did it really hit home for you?
I had a real wake-up about the need for sleep, when I “came to” making a left through a red light across three lanes of oncoming traffic.  Those horns were loud. And that was something called a micro-sleep, from missing just three hours of sleep the night before.

I looked into it, and found that neuroscientists, sleep specialists, and psychologists everywhere understand and agree: Deprivation results in measureable body chemistry changes, which in turn degrade our physical and mental capabilities, and eventually our long-term health.  The science is complex, but beyond dispute.

There will be impairments to motor control, cognition, memory, judgement, and emotional stability.

But aside from the proven science, what does sleep mean to you personally?
For me, sleep is profoundly about a truly vital, beautiful, longing — for escape.

From three things: effort, consequence, and the past.

Most of us, most of the time, are variously trying, are attempting, something.  There’s effort at work, of course, and the ever-present to-do list for home and family, and even effort during time-outs for ourselves, ironically, when we’re following the tricky plot of Westworld, or just trying to fill in that crossword blank, or just trying to relax.  Sleep, when we get there, is finally a true respite from trying, which is lovely to contemplate, and even lovelier to experience deeply and often.

The second escape, from consequence, isn’t so bad either. For the one third of our lives we sleep (or should be asleep), we’re not responsible for what happens in the other two thirds. It’s not our fault! How wonderful to say that and have it be true! 

But escape from consequence has an even deeper benefit for all of us.  It’s escape from the self-editing process. It’s been called RISE, or regression in the service of the ego. In semi-waking states and in dreams, our minds are free to experiment without fear of outcomes. I no longer worry about what will happen to the end of my story if I change this scene, or try this line of lyric instead of the one I’ve settled on.  We let the new idea come and don’t sweat the consequences. I don’t see it as “channeling” or anything quite as grand or special, but as just getting out of our own way.

The third escape, and the one that became a central conceit and drove the drama of the novel:  escape from the past.

Here’s how: in dreams, we defuse the emotions connected to unresolved experiences in our lives.  We’ve all had these moments, from any sort of unfulfilled wishes, desires for a “do-over,” from small regrets to more serious trauma from violence, catastrophe, death.  In dreams, we replay versions of these, variously disguised or symbolized, more safely.

How did that become a novel?
As a novelist (and habitual worrier), this brought me a question: What if we couldn’t dream, because we couldn’t sleep?  How many nights of without dreaming would it take to for the unconscious to find other ways to surface, even in our waking lives?

The novel and the research behind it suggest that after four or five nights we lose the emotional stability that dreams maintain, and our unique preoccupations, desires, misconceptions, and fears could spiral into obsessions, urges, delusions and paranoia. 

So it’s not just about slurred speech and stumbling and impaired judgment, but we’ll each go crazy in our own special way. 

How does that novel dramatize that idea?
In my speculative writer’s mind, I wondered, what if were nine or ten nights without sleep, multiplied by the population of an entire town with no way out? If it sounds dire, it is.

It all begins innocently enough, mid-summer at an idyllic tourist destination like Martha’s Vineyard or Fire Island, with locals complaining about tourists, and tourists complaining about locals, and the heat, the bugs, their mattresses, or the neighbors’ music or outdoor lights.  

After a few days, there’s a run on bug spray, eyemasks, earplugs, Ambien. The sleep-deprived Chief of Police loses control as tempers flare, bar fights erupt, domestic spats turn into abuse. A lonely teenage girl joins a dangerous contest going viral: who can Tweet every fifteen minutes for the most hours?  A few tourists die from (accidental?) sleeping pill overdose, missing persons are reported, boating accidents claim lives, drownings. The desperate, sleepless urgent care doctor starts prescribing a few sleeping pills apiece—but how many does the little mom ‘n’ pop pharmacy have?

Local authorities aren’t immune from impaired judgement and delusions, either, and they cut the island off out of fear the insomnia will spread to the mainland.

 Denied the outlet of dreams, the unconscious finds other, primal ways to surface. Violence flares as a mob decides who to blame, and rioting erupts. 

Will help arrive before the worst happens? 

Desperate for unconsciousness, suicide is finally the only respite for some, as others set the island ablaze, howling in fury and fear.

Anarchy, mayhem, chaos.

The short story?  Dreams keep us sane, and sanity keeps the peace.

Killer Nashville Interview with Dean Koontz

An Interview with Dean Koontz

Killer Nashville sits down with Dean Koontz to discuss his writing process.

KN: You have created some of the best bad-guys: Edgler Vess, Junior Kane, Ticktock, and, Lee Shacket - these are characters that still haunt me.  How do you do it?  How do you build the perfect bad-guy?

DK: Maybe I am one. If I were, I might not know, because really bad guys are superb at self-justification. I’m sure the Cookie Monster thinks of himself as the Cookie Connoisseur, and the Hamburglar believes he’s just redistributing sandwiches in the interest of culinary justice.

Anyway, ordinary criminals are of little interest to me. I’m more intrigued by sociopaths who lack any normal human feelings but convincingly imitate them. Sociopaths exist in every race, every age group, and every economic class; more are men, but there are women among them as well. Scary stories like INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS or John Carpenter’s version of THE THING, in which evil extraterrestrials hide among us in human form, put the hair up on the back of my neck, but human sociopaths are in fact real and therefore far scarier. They are an immensely destructive force in society because not all of them become serial killers like Ted Bundy or predatory Hollywood moguls; others rise to positions of authority in government, business, churches, the arts, everywhere. They’re just a slice of humanity, but they are often so charismatic that they can lead numerous others into darkness.

The difficult challenge is to imagine how such a person thinks. They’re narcissistic almost to the extent of being solipsists, creatures of unrestrained desires, driven not by greed or hatred, but by a lust for absolute power over others, by arrogance and contempt, and by the particular kind of envy that is covetousness. This kind of character is capable of anything other than humility.

At the same time, choosing evil is a choice of fools, because though evil can win in the short term, it never wins in the long term. And because I never want to glamorize evil, I use that foolishness to make my antagonists objects of dark amusement, though they never realize that they’re unintentionally funny.

I think the scariest elements of your stories are those that are rooted in truth.  The nanobots from the Jane Hawk series or the microscopic archæa from your upcoming release, Devoted, for example.  How do you develop truly terrifying purposes from the seemingly benign?

I read a lot of science and technology, not with an eye for story ideas, just out of a general interest in everything from quantum mechanics to molecular biology. My head is a stew pot——or maybe a witch’s cauldron——in which everything cooks 24/7 until some irresistible story idea rises to the top. Whereas a lot of people are charmed by new technology or exciting theories of new social structures, I tend to see the dark side almost at a glace. Elon Musk said, “Creating a neural [brain] lace is the thing that really matters for humanity to achieve symbiosis with machines.” When I heard that, I immediately thought, “Yeah, well if you do that and achieve symbiosis with computers, then your brain can be hacked, and you can be controlled.” And so the Jane Hawk series was born. It’s strange, really, that I see the dark possibilities so easily and quickly, considering that I’m the biggest optimist I know.

KN: For over 50 years you have published multiple books every year.  I thought I had read them all, but after checking your webpage I see I have some catching up to do! How do you sustain such a pace?

DK: How do I sustain that pace? A passion for storytelling, a profound love for the beauty and potential of the English language, and a need to eat well. Besides, having grown up in poverty and on the bottom rung of the social ladder in every way, I was somewhat surprised to discover this talent and amazed that it opened a world of possibilities for me. Talent is a grace; I did nothing to earn it, therefore I feel obliged to explore it and grow it, work on the craft and art, until one day I fall dead into the keyboard. It’s hard work, but it’s also joyful, and it gives my life purpose that, as a child and adolescent, I never expected to find.

KN: There are certain elements I have come to expect from a Dean Koontz novel.  It will be scary; I will have to stop reading at least once to catch my breath; there will be at least one scene that breaks my heart – and there will be an awesome dog.  I know where the dog inspiration comes from – you have been blessed to have so many special dogs in your life.  But what about the terrifying parts and the tragic parts?  Where does that inspiration come from?

DK:I write suspenseful fiction because suspense is arguably the fundamental quality of our lives. Suspense and an irresistible urge to search for cute kitten photos on the internet. I also include comedy in my work, because it’s how we deal with stress and terror and the realization that we’re baton twirlers in a parade of fools. Suspense. . . Well, we never know what’s going to happen to us tomorrow, later today, a minute from now. The best literary novels are also suspense novels woven through with quiet humor.

As far back as I can remember, I feared my own death a lot less than I feared the deaths of those I love. Tragic events are significant threads in the fabric of life; losing someone you love inevitably inspires a terror of eventually being alone in a world that can be hostile in the extreme. Young writers are always counseled to write what they know, and too many of them interpret this to mean they should write navel-gazing novels about the tedium of youthful desire. However, what they know, what we all know, is that the world is strange, the universe is a mystery, evil is real, love is our only hope, and we all die——which is pretty much all the material you need for an infinite number of novels.

KN: Series versus stand-alone books:  Which do you prefer writing?  Do you plan for a series or does the potential develop as you write? Will Devoted become a series?

DK: I prefer standalones. But sometimes a character seizes your imagination and won’t let go. Odd Thomas and Jane Hawk became as real to me as the people next door——though I’ve never known a neighbor as amusing as Odd or as kick-ass as Jane——and I just had to know more about them. I could never write 20 or 30 novels with the same character. Once I know everything about them, once they have allowed me to peel back the last layer of their hearts and minds, staying with them for more books would be all about finances, not art.

Many thanks to Dean Koontz for answering our quetsions and to Beth Parker for co-ordinating this effort.

Killer Nashville Interview with Harriet Tyce

An Interview with Harriet Tyce

Killer Nashville sits down with debut author Harriet Tyce to discuss her new book, Blood Orange.

KN: I believe that it is quite an accomplishment for a debut author to be published by Grand Central.  You are a very talented writer.  

Blood Orange

 is a novel that grabbed me from the prologue and didn’t let go – even after the ending so I completely see why such a prestigious publishing house would want it for their catalog.  But, HOW did you get there?  Here at Killer Nashville we work with new authors and that is always the question – how did she do it?  How did you get your work in front of the right people?

TYCE: Thank you very much! That’s very kind of you to say so and I’m glad it grabbed your attention. I studied for a Masters in Creative Writing – Crime Fiction at the University of East Anglia and through that was able to get the opening of my novel in front of the agents at David Higham Agency when I applied for a scholarship. I didn’t win the scholarship, but I was contacted by Veronique Baxter, one of their agents, some weeks later. She’d liked what she read, and suggested we meet, and after that meeting, offered me representation. This gave me a huge boost to finish the manuscript, and when it was finally done, Veronique submitted it to a number of publishers in the UK. It caught the attention of my UK editor Kate Stephenson, at Wildfire, which is an imprint of Headline, a Hachette publisher. She made a pre-emptive offer for world rights, which I was delighted to receive, and through this Blood Orange is being published jointly by Wildfire and by Grand Central, another Hachette publisher. I’ve been extremely lucky.

KN: “Show-don’t-tell” is a bit of advice that we give our authors.  You excel at this skill.  For example, when Alison managed to stick her hand in “it” outside the nightclub and her inebriated mind thought she could wash off that stink before anyone noticed – I thought that pretty much summed up Alison’s situation better than pages of detailed descriptions ever could. Contaminated by her actions and distractions she really hopes that no one will notice how bad things are until she can clean up the mess. But really she is going to leave a little bit of filth on everyone and everything she touches for quite a while.  This is a two-part question:  How do you do that? And – what was your inspiration? LOL.  On second thought, maybe I don’t want to know the answer to that part…

TYCE: I prefer to read prose which is terse and leaves something to the imagination, and that’s what I try to write. As with every student of creative writing, I started out reading the stories of Raymond Carver, and comparing the Lish edits with the stories as Carver originally wrote, I feel that less is always more. One gesture will convey more than pages of description. At least that’s what I try to do – I’m glad you think I succeeded with it. As far as that scene was concerned, I had in my mind Lady Macbeth trying to scrub off the blood spot, and the dogs refusing to eat the palms of Jezebel’s hands. And when I was a child, I used to go for walks in Edinburgh with my parents, and we would walk under a large bridge on which someone had daubed graffiti with dog fæces.

KN: I am the mother of a 6-year-old, so the scene where young Tilly is missing really spoke to me.  My heart was pounding out of my chest and I almost couldn’t read fast enough to find out what happened.  But that was also the scene where I began to really feel for Alison.  Up until then, I was pretty much in the “yes, you are a terrible mother” camp.  But there she was being a “good” mother playing with her daughter and it still all falls apart.  She wasn’t concentrating on something else, she wasn’t lost on her phone or talking to someone.  This was a situation that could happen to me… easily.  What was your process for developing this scene?

TYCE: I have children myself and while neither of them has ever gone missing for any period of time, even thirty seconds can feel like a lifetime. I walk on the Heath regularly, and watch my children climb the tree I’ve described, and I’ve seen police cars occasionally on patrol, and it came to me organically as a scene. I knew it was a point in the book where a catalyst was necessary to bring the hostility between Carl and Alison entirely to the surface, and given how critical he is throughout of her parenting, it seemed logical to me that he would be bound to blame her entirely for this scare, even though as you point out, it’s something that could have happened to anyone. I actually don’t think Alison is ever a terrible mother – even the night that she doesn’t come home doesn’t put Matilda at any risk, and she always does her best. It’s just not always very good…

KN: Obviously, you are an experienced criminal barrister, so it makes sense that those parts of the story were so believable.  But what about the other parts?  How do you go about researching the gruesome details? And do you ever worry what someone might say if they saw the search history on your computer?

TYCE: I think that’s an occupational hazard! My next book will be dealing with divorce, amongst other things, and I’ve had to tell my husband up front that all of my searches about family law and custody battles are for book purposes and not because I’m planning an escape route. It took quite a lot of logistical planning to work out the final scene in Blood Orange, for which I had to do a lot of internet searches that threw up some sites I really would never want to visit. And it’s fair to say I’ve had my share of hangovers, so those parts weren’t too hard to write…

KN: Finally, even though it is perfectly acceptable and usually expected for women to have careers and families, we torture ourselves with guilt when we aren’t always present for

them.  We tend to see other women as having it all together and judging us for being unworthy somehow (whether or not that’s true.)   So, I really liked the way that you included the “forgiving mom” – the one that said that she turned off the notifications in WhatsApp and seemed genuinely friendly to Alison.  What was your inspiration for this?  

TYCE: The UK agent Juliet Mushens made an excellent point some time ago which was that no domestic thrillers would work as real-life situations if the female protagonists had girlfriends. Alison has isolated herself from her friends, and she is paranoid that all of the mothers at school are judging her adversely, but actually, she’s her own harshest critic, so eaten up with guilt that she can’t see what is really happening around her. I felt that it was more realistic to have people being friendly around her – even though she thinks she’s a terrible person, she’s not that bad, and they can see that. I also wanted to make sure she has a potential future after the end of the book – if she can actually get through all the awfulness, there’s a great circle of women out there ready to catch her and give her support moving forward.

Killer Nashville Interview with Sara Blaedel

An Interview with Sara Blaedel

Killer Nashville sits down with best-selling author Sara Blaedel to discuss her latest book, THE DROWNED GIRL.

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KN: Is it more difficult to create a new main character or build upon a character that is well known by your readers?

For me, whether introducing a new character or digging into the evolution of an already existing one, it all falls under the same umbrella.  And, I love to engage in both.  I’m especially excited about character development; it’s always the people who get under the reader’s skin and drive the action, don’t you think?  It is the characters we think about long after we’ve finished reading, who we connect and relate to, and whom we look forward to getting back to in a series.  While it takes a lot of time to construct a new character, making sure they possess layers and flaws and strengths and authentic characteristics, having a character evolve and grow according to their experiences and maturity, as we all do in one way or another, also takes a great deal of focus and commitment to getting it right.

KN: Is Camilla based upon your own experiences and/or observations as a journalist?

While I wouldn’t say any of my characters is based on me or meant to be a stand-in for me, I definitely use what I know, when appropriate, in the building of a character’s life and work.  In this case, absolutely; I was a journalist for years and tapped into that part of my life to support Camilla’s profession, how she approaches her work, and that whole world.  It’s super-fun!

KN: I love the growth in Camilla’s character when she became more of the solution to racism instead of perpetrating stereotypes. Was this based upon something you have experienced on one side or the other?

Again, I come at this in a sort of hybrid fashion, a mix of the real and personally experienced and what I perceive would be the genuine experience of my characters.  I spent a great deal of time developing them from the start- no single figure in any of my books shows up without a history and backstory of their own that I’ve worked on, along with a construction of them from the ground up and inside out.  It is essential, for me, that my characters’ personalities and choices reflect what they’ve been through so far, whom they meet and have relationships with along the way, and what they witness in the world around them.

KN: Was it difficult to publish The Drowned Girl in a different language than it was originally written? What were some of the pitfalls? Why was the original title changed?

This is an excellent question!  For an author, and I am sure I speak for many (if not most) here, any adaptation is always a scary thing.  There is a great deal of reliance and trust required of the translator, who must organically capture the nuances of the plotting, characterizations, description, and timing.  I am always super-obsessed with making sure that happens, and I have a person who carefully studies each one of my translated books to make sure that nothing has been missed or misinterpreted.  It’s amazing how getting one word or phrase even just a little bit off-base can change the tone or direction of storytelling.  The changing of titles is most often left to the publisher of the translation as frequently the original title doesn’t completely work in that specific language.  It is important for storytellers to protect the integrity of their work and their visions, while at the same time trusting the publishers and people they work with, who want to do everything to support the book and make it accessible to their marketplace.  I always try to find that balance between staying very involved and allowing some space to let the experts do their thing.

KN: I felt the setting in a small town where some might not be as willing to accept outsiders made it perfect by creating the tension needed. Racism is a tough topic to conquer, what type of research did you do to bring it to the readers so realistically?

Research plays a massive role in my preparation for writing.  It is a part of the author’s job that I truly love and look forward to.  Of course, this goes back to my days as a journalist, wherein research and accuracy are imperative.  I go deeply, mining into nearly every aspect I write about, from the locations (I go to the sites where my action takes place, and breathe that air and study the people, the geography, the very essence) to the professions (authenticity is crucial), to the history and natives, and everything in between.

I have always been fascinated by the differences between small towns and big cities; I’ve personally lived in both.  I’m intrigued by the familiarity of life in smaller, more contained, more traditional, and more slowly-changing towns, where, typically, everyone knows everyone else, and there is very little anonymity and lots of secrets simmering beneath the surface.  Which means, treasure troves of potential tension and suspense and drama.  A playground for a crime fiction author!!

Killer Nashville Interview with David Baldacci

An Interview with David Baldacci

In this Killer Nashville interview, award-winning author David Baldacci gives us a behind-the-scenes look at how he makes his characters and locations come to life and highlights the differences in writing a stand-alone novel versus a series.

How is the plotting different for a stand-alone novel and the first novel in a series?

With a stand-alone you know you have one shot to get it all out there. With a series, you can hold things back and wait until the time is right in another book. You can build character arcs more methodically. I like to drop little nuggets or Easter eggs in series books that I know will not be resolved in that novel, much as I did in Long Road to Mercy.

Did you plan to write a series or did Atlee Pine develop into someone who needed to tell more about herself after you began writing?

I planned all along to bring Pine back, and thus built her character correspondingly in the novel.

I love the growth of Carol Blum. Much like anyone we know casually, she seemed ordinary until the reader gets to know her. How and why did she become such an important character? 

I was unsure of what Carol’s full role would be when I started, whether a help or hindrance, loyal sidekick or bureaucratic foil to Pine.  But I quickly decided she would be a full-bore character, loyal but independent. Quirky but resourceful. I really liked the idea of an older and younger woman partnering together and supporting the other. You almost never see that, at least in thrillers.

Is it more difficult to create a woman protagonist that is tough, yet shows us glimpses of her feminine side than a male? In general is it easy to get into the character’s head if they are male?

Both genders have sets of challenges. With men, the temptation is to write them as strong but vulnerable and in times of action, indomitable. And that can get sort of formulaic so you have to watch that. But there are so many male characters portrayed that way it doesn’t seem to matter to readers or moviegoers, which I’m not sure is a good thing. I’m obviously not a woman, so writing from another gender’s perspective is challenging. Writing a woman as strong but feminine sounds like a safe compromise, but it can also throw you into cliché land. What I tried my best to do was be true to Pine’s character and not really dwell on the labels readers might throw on her. She is strong and capable and at times bossy or overbearing, but so can we all be, men and women, depending on the situation.  She can be aloof, suspicious of people’s intentions. But then again, so can all of us. I guess I just tried to make her human, with all the advantages and disadvantages that come with that.

The setting of the Grand Canyon intrigued me. The facts about the location as well as the descriptions pull the readers into the scene. How did you choose the setting? Did you travel into the Canyon? Speak with locals?

I traveled to the Grand Canyon last year and found it fascinating. I talked to locals and guides and people who had done the mule rides, raft rides, and hikes. It just really spoke to me as an ideal location for both the sort of story I wanted to tell and also as a geographic location that a character like Pine would be comfortable existing in.