Pagan Babies Part 31

Or, I think I should start this book with the main character. Or I start a book with who I think is the main character, but a hundred pages into the book I say, "This guy's not the main character; he's running out of gas; I don't even like him anymore, his att.i.tude; he's changed." But he's changed and there's nothing I could do about it. It's just the kind of person he is. So then I have to bring somebody along fast. Do you run into that?

Amis: What I do find, and my father Kingsley Amis used to find, is that when you come up against some difficulty, some mechanism in the novel that isn't working, it fills you with despair and you think, "I'm not going to be able to get around this." Then you look back at what you've done, and you find you already have a mechanism in place to get you through this. A minor character, say, who's well placed to get the information across that you need to put across. I always used to think (and he agreed) that, thank G.o.d writing is much more of an unconscious process than many people think. What I do find, and my father Kingsley Amis used to find, is that when you come up against some difficulty, some mechanism in the novel that isn't working, it fills you with despair and you think, "I'm not going to be able to get around this." Then you look back at what you've done, and you find you already have a mechanism in place to get you through this. A minor character, say, who's well placed to get the information across that you need to put across. I always used to think (and he agreed) that, thank G.o.d writing is much more of an unconscious process than many people think.

I think the guy in the street thinks that the novelist, first of all, decides on his subject, what should be addressed; then he thinks of his theme and his plot and then jots down the various characters that will ill.u.s.trate these various themes. That sounds like a description of writer's block to me. I think you're in a very bad way when that happens. Vladimir Nabokov, when he spoke about Lolita Lolita, refers to the "first throb" of Lolita Lolita going through him, and I recognize that feeling. All it is is your next book. It's the next thing that's there for you to write. Now, do you settle down and map out your plots? I suspect you don't. going through him, and I recognize that feeling. All it is is your next book. It's the next thing that's there for you to write. Now, do you settle down and map out your plots? I suspect you don't.

Leonard: No, I don't. I start with a character. Let's say I want to write a book about a bail bondsman or a process server or a bank robber and a woman federal marshal. And they meet and something happens. That's as much of an idea as I begin with. And then I see him in a situation, and I begin writing it and one thing leads to another. By page 100, roughly, I should have my characters a.s.sembled. I should know my characters because they've sort of auditioned in the opening scenes, and I can find out if they can talk or not. And if they can't talk, they're out. Or they get a minor role. No, I don't. I start with a character. Let's say I want to write a book about a bail bondsman or a process server or a bank robber and a woman federal marshal. And they meet and something happens. That's as much of an idea as I begin with. And then I see him in a situation, and I begin writing it and one thing leads to another. By page 100, roughly, I should have my characters a.s.sembled. I should know my characters because they've sort of auditioned in the opening scenes, and I can find out if they can talk or not. And if they can't talk, they're out. Or they get a minor role.

But in every book there's a minor character who comes along and pushes his way into the plot. He's just needed to give some information, but all of a sudden he comes to life for me. Maybe it's the way he says it. He might not even have a name the first time he appears. The second time he has a name. The third time he has a few more lines, and away he goes, and he becomes a plot turn in the book.

When I was writing Cuba Libre Cuba Libre, I was about 250 pages into it and George Will called up and said, "I want to send out forty of your books" - this was the previous book [Out of Sight] - "at Christmastime. May I send them to you and a list of names to inscribe?" I said, "Of course." He said, "What are you doing now?" I said, "I'm doing Cuba a hundred years ago." And he said, "Oh, crime in Cuba." And he hung up the phone. And I thought, "I don't have a crime in this book." And I'm 250 pages into it. [Laughter] It was a crime that this guy was running guns to Cuba, but that's not what I really write about. Where's the bag of money that everybody wants? I didn't have it. So, then I started weaving it into the narrative. I didn't have to go back far, and I was on my way.

Amis: I admire the fluidity of your process because it's meant to be a rule in the highbrow novel that the characters have no free will at all. I admire the fluidity of your process because it's meant to be a rule in the highbrow novel that the characters have no free will at all.

E.M. Forster said he used to line up his characters before beginning a novel, and he would say, "Right, no larks." [Laughter] And Nabokov, when this was quoted to him, he looked aghast, and he said, "My characters cringe when I come near them." He said, "I've seen whole avenues of imagined trees lose their leaves with terror at my approach." [Laughter]

Let's talk about Cuba Libre Cuba Libre, which is an amazing departure in my view. When I was reading it, I had to keep turning to the front cover to check that it was a book by you. How did it get started? I gather that you've been wanting to write this book for thirty years. It has a kind of charge of long-suppressed desire.

Leonard: In 1957, I borrowed a book from a friend called In 1957, I borrowed a book from a friend called The Splendid Little War The Splendid Little War. It was a picture book, a coffee-table book of photographs of the Spanish-American War - photographs of the Maine Maine, before and after; photographs of the troops on San Juan Hill; newspaper headlines leading up to the war; a lot of shots of Havana. I was writing Westerns at the time, and I thought, I could drop a cowboy into this place and get away with it. But I didn't. A couple of years ago, I was trying to think of a sequel to Get Shorty Get Shorty. And I was trying to work Chili Palmer into the dress business. I don't know why except that I love runway shows. I gave up on that. And I saw that book again, The Splendid Little War The Splendid Little War, because I hadn't returned it to my friend in '57. And I thought, "I'm going to do that." Yeah, the time has come. So, I did.

Amis: In a famous essay, Tom Wolfe said that the writers were missing all the real stories that were out there. And that they spent too much time searching for inspiration and should spend ninety-five percent of their time sweating over research. The result was a tremendously readable book, In a famous essay, Tom Wolfe said that the writers were missing all the real stories that were out there. And that they spent too much time searching for inspiration and should spend ninety-five percent of their time sweating over research. The result was a tremendously readable book, The Bonfire of the Vanities The Bonfire of the Vanities. Now you, sir, have a full-time researcher.

Leonard: Yes, Gregg Sutter. He can answer any of your questions that I don't know. Yes, Gregg Sutter. He can answer any of your questions that I don't know.

Amis: Were you inspired by the research he put into this book? Were you inspired by the research he put into this book?

Leonard: He got me everything I needed to know. I asked him to see if he could find out how much it cost to transport horses from Arizona to East Texas and then to Havana. And he did. He found a cattle company that had been in business over 100 years ago and was s.h.i.+pping cattle then. He found an old ledger book and copied it and faxed it to me. He got me everything I needed to know. I asked him to see if he could find out how much it cost to transport horses from Arizona to East Texas and then to Havana. And he did. He found a cattle company that had been in business over 100 years ago and was s.h.i.+pping cattle then. He found an old ledger book and copied it and faxed it to me.

Amis: Among the differences from your earlier books, this book is more discursive, less dialogue-driven and, till the end, less action-driven. Toward the end, you get a familiar Leonard scenario where there's a chunk of money sitting around, and various people are after it and you're pretty confident that it's going to go to the least-undeserving people present. And it's not hard-bitten; it's a much more romantic book than we're used to from you. Could your Westerns have had such romance? Among the differences from your earlier books, this book is more discursive, less dialogue-driven and, till the end, less action-driven. Toward the end, you get a familiar Leonard scenario where there's a chunk of money sitting around, and various people are after it and you're pretty confident that it's going to go to the least-undeserving people present. And it's not hard-bitten; it's a much more romantic book than we're used to from you. Could your Westerns have had such romance?

Leonard: No. In my Westerns there was little romance except in No. In my Westerns there was little romance except in Valdez Is Coming Valdez Is Coming, which is my favorite of the Westerns. No, I just wanted to make this a romantic adventure story.

Amis: And there's a kind of political romanticism, too. You've always sided with the underdog, imaginatively; one can sense that. And who could be more of an underdog than a criminal? And your criminals have always been rather implausibly likable and gentle creatures. What is your view about crime in America? And there's a kind of political romanticism, too. You've always sided with the underdog, imaginatively; one can sense that. And who could be more of an underdog than a criminal? And your criminals have always been rather implausibly likable and gentle creatures. What is your view about crime in America?

Leonard: I don't have a view about crime in America. There isn't anything I can say that would be interesting at all. When I'm fas.h.i.+oning my bad guys, though (and sometimes a good guy has had a criminal past and then he can go either way; to me, he's the best kind of character to have), I don't think of them as bad guys. I just think of them as, for the most part, normal people who get up in the morning and they wonder what they're going to have for breakfast, and they sneeze, and they wonder if they should call their mother, and then they rob a bank. Because that's the way they are. Except for real hard-core guys. I don't have a view about crime in America. There isn't anything I can say that would be interesting at all. When I'm fas.h.i.+oning my bad guys, though (and sometimes a good guy has had a criminal past and then he can go either way; to me, he's the best kind of character to have), I don't think of them as bad guys. I just think of them as, for the most part, normal people who get up in the morning and they wonder what they're going to have for breakfast, and they sneeze, and they wonder if they should call their mother, and then they rob a bank. Because that's the way they are. Except for real hard-core guys.

Amis: The really bad guys. The really bad guys.

Leonard: Yeah, the really bad guys.... Yeah, the really bad guys....

Amis: Before we end, I'd just like to ask you about why you keep writing. I just read my father's collected letters, which are going to be published in a year or two. It was with some dread that I realized that the writer's life never pauses. You can never sit back and rest on what you've done. You are driven on remorselessly by something, whether it's dedication or desire to defeat time. What is it that drives you? Is it just pure enjoyment that makes you settle down every morning to carry out this other life that you live? Before we end, I'd just like to ask you about why you keep writing. I just read my father's collected letters, which are going to be published in a year or two. It was with some dread that I realized that the writer's life never pauses. You can never sit back and rest on what you've done. You are driven on remorselessly by something, whether it's dedication or desire to defeat time. What is it that drives you? Is it just pure enjoyment that makes you settle down every morning to carry out this other life that you live?

Leonard: It's the most satisfying thing I can imagine doing. To write that scene and then read it and it works. I love the sound of it. There's nothing better than that. The notoriety that comes later doesn't compare to the doing of it. I've been doing it for almost forty-seven years, and I'm still trying to make it better. Even though I know my limitations; I know what I can't do. I know that if I tried to write, say, as an omniscient author, it would be so mediocre. It's the most satisfying thing I can imagine doing. To write that scene and then read it and it works. I love the sound of it. There's nothing better than that. The notoriety that comes later doesn't compare to the doing of it. I've been doing it for almost forty-seven years, and I'm still trying to make it better. Even though I know my limitations; I know what I can't do. I know that if I tried to write, say, as an omniscient author, it would be so mediocre. You You can do more forms of writing than I can, including essays. My essay would sound, at best, like a college paper. can do more forms of writing than I can, including essays. My essay would sound, at best, like a college paper.

Amis: Well, why isn't there a Martin Amis Day? Because January 16, 1998, was Elmore Leonard Day in the state of Michigan, and it seems that here, in Los Angeles, it's been Elmore Leonard Day for the last decade. [Laughter] Well, why isn't there a Martin Amis Day? Because January 16, 1998, was Elmore Leonard Day in the state of Michigan, and it seems that here, in Los Angeles, it's been Elmore Leonard Day for the last decade. [Laughter]

[Applause]

Editor s note: Martin Amis is the author of many novels - including Martin Amis is the author of many novels - including Money: A Suicide Note Money: A Suicide Note; London Fields London Fields; and Night Train Night Train - and many works of nonfic - and many works of nonfic

About the Author.

Elmore Leonard has written more than three dozen books during his highly successful writing career, including the national bestsellers Tishomingo Blues, Pagan Babies, and Be Cool. Many of his novels have been made into movies, including Get Shorty, Out of Sight, Valdez Is Coming, and Rum Punch (as Quentin Tarantino's Jackie Brown). He has been named Grand Master by Mystery Writers of America and lives in Bloomfield Village, Michigan, with his wife.

"AMERICA'S GREATEST CRIME WRITER."

Newsweek Father Terry Dunn thought he'd seen everything on the mean streets of Detroit, but that was before he went on a little retreat to Rwanda to evade a tax-fraud indictment. Now the whiskey-drinking, Nine Inch Nails T-s.h.i.+rtwearing padre is back trying to hustle up a score to help the little orphans of Rwanda. But the fund-raising gets complicated when a former tattletale cohort pops up on Terry's tail. And then there's the lovely Debbie Dewey. A freshly sprung ex-con turned stand-up comic, Debbie needs some fast cash, too, to settle an old score. Now they're in together for a bigger payoff than either could finagle alone. After all, it makes sense . . . unless Father Terry is working a con of his own.

"The King Daddy of crime fiction-hip, funny, tough division-knocks another one out of the park."

Seattle Times "Criminally funny . . . a sinfully good read. . . . Don't wait for the movie. Get the book now."

New Orleans Times-Picayune "Satisfying . . . resoundingly genuine, and refres.h.i.+ngly unexpected."

Buffalo News THE CRITICS CAN'T RAVE ENOUGH ABOUT PAGAN BABIES!.

"At the top of his game. . . . A crisp and searingly funny book involving a cast of characters only Leonard could supply.... The style is cool and knowing, the dialogue spare and telling, the effect usually wonderful and astonis.h.i.+ng."

San Francisco Chronicle "Pure reading pleasure."

Playboy "Some of the sweetest prose between covers this year ...a crime thriller that takes admirable chances."

Publishers Weekly "Riotous."

Kirkus Reviews (*Starred Review*) (*Starred Review*) "Pure gold."

Fort Worth Star-Telegram "A sharp exploration of loyalty and disloyalty, trust and betrayal." New York Times New York Times "Catches fire."

People "It's tough to imagine a crime novel that blends the carnage of war-torn Rwanda with Detroit mobsters, an ex-con comedian and a priest who doesn't take his vows too seriously. Elmore Leonard pulls it off. . . .

Mr. Leonard hasn't lost any steam."

Providence Journal "[Proves] once again that Leonard . . . stands head and shoulders above the compet.i.tion."

San Diego Union-Tribune "The work of an old master showing once again how it is done. And making it look easy. . . . An astonis.h.i.+ng, gravity-defying display. . . . Leonard is at the top of his game, exploiting his own patented conventions with new shadings. Leonard still has the daring and energy to match, and sometimes to surpa.s.s, his previous achievements." Raleigh News & Observer Raleigh News & Observer "A book whose ambitions should expand his fans' ideas of what a Leonard novel can be."

Des Moines Register "Enjoyable. . . . Leonard keeps the pace fast and the dialogue sharp and funny." Boston Herald Boston Herald Grand Rapids Press "Elmore Leonard's engaging mix of mordant humor, nervous tension, mayhem and poignancy has been imitated by many, but the author remains the original. And he's even getting better."

Wall Street Journal "Like Shakespeare, Leonard is generous with characters, even minor ones. ...Most chapters end on a twist, and only a gifted psychic will be able to predict the end of this novel." Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel "America's coolest writer."

Columbus Dispatch "A winner . . . truly unique."

San Francisco Examiner "Some of his best, most effortlessly detailed writing, Leonard strikes a perfect tone in balancing pulp fiction and literature, satire and realism."

Chicago Sun-Times "Leonard transposes the conventions of popular fiction as adroitly as he rattles off his signature dialogue-to-die-for." Booklist Booklist "Sleek and effortlessly entertaining."

Newark Star Ledger "n.o.body does it better."

Detroit News "This man can write. ...Fast-moving, smoothly orchestrated. ...Just when you think you've figured it out, you find you're wrong." Deseret News Deseret News "Graceful prose, crackling dialogue and an a.s.sortment of unusual characters."

San Antonio Express-News "Leonard has . . . a special ability to conceive stories that seem effortlessly real without requiring even the slightest suspension of disbelief. And he's done it so consistently that readers have come to count on it."

Boston Globe "Elmore Leonard is as good as ever....If Pagan Babies Pagan Babies does not surprise you at least once, you probably are not paying close enough attention." does not surprise you at least once, you probably are not paying close enough attention."

Omaha World-Herald "The novel pleases, cajoles and thrills."

Memphis Commercial Appeal "Moves at a breakneck pace. . . . Elmore Leonard does not disappoint." Rocky Mountain News Rocky Mountain News The Bounty Hunters The Law at Randado Escape from Five Shadows Last Stand at Saber River Hombre The Big Bounce The Moons.h.i.+ne War Valdez Is Coming Forty Lashes Less One Mr. Majestyk 52 Pickup Swag Unknown Man #89 The Hunted The Switch Gunsights Gold Coast City Primeval Split Images Cat Chaster Stick LaBrava Glitz Bandits Touch Freaky Deaky Killshot Get Shorty Maximum Bob Rum Punch p.r.o.nto Riding the Rap Out of Sight Cuba Libre The Tonto Woman and Other Western Stories Be Cool Pagan Babies Tishomingo Blues