Questions and Answers
Having published only two books, it seems a bit presumptuous to have Questions and Answers on a web site. Come to think of it, it seems a bit presumptuous having a web site. However, you will ask about stuff … and a surprising number of you are interested in finding out about the same stuff. So, here are some of the most common questions (with answers).
Q: Is another Bradman Chen novel on the way?
A: The first four chapters of a third Chen novel (with the working title “Rip Off”) were written in November 2007 but I ditched the manuscript after my original publisher had problems scheduling the release of Smoke and Mirrors. I also disposed of most of the research materials. Although I now know it’s harder to reconnect with a project that was abandoned than to start something completely new, I can’t quite let go of the “Rip Off” plot. So, until I can organise a big enough block of time away from my day job (to get into the right headspace and reacquaint myself with the detail of “Rip Off”) a new Brad Chen won’t be in a bookstore near you.
That said, if someone out there can lend me a beach house without a TV, where I can lock myself away for 3 or 4 weeks next winter, anything is possible. Do I need to tell you that offers of places close to licensed premises or contingent on childminding, the supervision of teenagers or the custody of aged relatives (yours, not mine) will not be considered?
Q: Will Brad Chen always be so battered?
A: Who knows?! He’s a man who’s copped a lot of biff over the years and I did feel a bit guilty about adding to his physical problems in Dead Set and Smoke and Mirrors . However, we all need to recall that Brad is an ex-Rugby League star and that the injury lists of most footy greats are nothing less than awe inspiring. Chen isn’t immune to pain but unlike most of us, he is used to dealing with it.
Q: Why a Chinese detective?
A: The cliché was, of course, a tempting one to take on but what attracted me most to the idea of a Chinese Australian copper was the difference between what readers see when they encounter Chen and what they actually get.
Q: To what extent are you Bradman Chen?
A: This question always makes me laugh. Chen is a handsome, battered, ex-footy star with a prodigious memory, an obsessive interest in Australian political history and a decidedly strange collection of friends. He is clever and brave, if a bit flawed. He has a high tolerance of pain and is a fifth-generation Chinese-Australian.
Apart from also being a bit flawed and battered, I have none of these attributes, except a strange collection of friends and in interest in Australian political history.
Q: Would you like to be Bradman Chen?
A: Most certainly not. I envy the “interesting” nature of his work and some of his attributes but, no, I don’t want to be him. After all these years, I’m finally used to being me.
Q: What do you write with and on?
A: (This question always surprises me. Think about it; do you really believe that the answer to this question will help you complete your own detective story?) My day job requires me to sit at a computer screen for long stretches, so the last thing I want to do at night and on the weekends is swap screens and keyboards. As a consequence, I write initial drafts with pen and paper. I write with Uniball Signo pens into notebooks and then onto very good quality paper - outrageously expensive stuff - before dictating the text into electronic form using Dragon voice recognition software. (The idea is to make the business of getting it down as easy as possibly for me, physically). Once this stage is reached, I’m at the screen day and night.
Q: Do you plan the books?
A: I have a rough plan when I start plus some completed (key) scenes, along with bits ‘n pieces of conversations. But then I let things go where they will. The plan becomes a kind of safety net, in case I write myself into a cul de sac.
Q: What advice do you have for aspiring writers?
A: “Talk to people who’ve written more books than I have?” “Talk to people who’ve made a living from writing?” No, I’d probably say “you need to get on with it.” It probably also helps to write in a genre that you know something about.
The only writing book I’ve relied on (and that I recommend without reservation) is Lawrence Block’s “Telling Lies for Fun and Profit”. However, If you want good advice on the business of being a writer in Australia – everything from “what to do when you work’s been rejected” to “what constitutes success?” – get a copy of Ian Irvine’s article, “The Truth About Publishing”. I read this remarkable piece in three parts (abridged by Jodi De Vantier, Queensland Writers Centre) in the ACT Writers Centre magazine. It contains sobering, highly practical information of the sort I wish I’d read years ago. Highly recommended.
Q: What’s your response to reviews?
A: Apart from anguished sobs and bloodcurdling threats of vengeance? So many books are released each year; getting any sort of notice – good or bad – is something to be thankful for. I’m grateful for good reviews and especially grateful for ones that register my better jests, that recognise themes and that identify political trivia. As for the “qualified” or “less than enthusiastic” reviews, I haven’t (yet) had many of them and I try to be philosophical about their existence. After all, not everyone has a sense of humour (despite the protestations of humourless people to the contrary) and not everyone shares my sense of humour. Consequently, not everyone gets the Chen books. The important thing is to enjoy the good feedback and not be too troubled by the bad.
Q: What’s with the loopy scenes in each of the books – the altercation with the nurse in Dead Set and the reading of the journalist’s blog in Smoke and Mirrors?
A: I don’t know. Some times I wonder where this weird stuff comes from, myself. Part way through the writing of each book something zippo just happens …. and my view is that there’s no point in fighting it.
Q: How come it took you so many years to get into print?
A: I’ve been busy. I studied part-time for 17 years in a row. The years just disappeared. Before that I lacked the necessary self-confidence.
Q: What are you currently working on?
A: Not telling. All I’ll say is that I find having too many ideas a curse, instead of a blessing.
Other Stuff
No, I won’t tell you what music I’ve been listening to. (How Chen aficionados became interested in my musical tastes, I don’t know, although someone reckons it was at the ACT Writers Festival a few years back.) Anyway, what has it got to do with writing? Nothing. That’s right. So, stop asking.
Yes, there are some obscure political history references tucked away in Smoke and Mirrors - for the readers who like little political mysteries - and I continue to have fun with characters' names.
No, the fact that the first person murdered in Smoke and Mirrors is an editor is not (necessarily) a signal to future editors that they need to be gentle with me.
No, I don’t consult sex-education manuals before I write those (mandatory) scenes. At any rate, if my recall of female physiology is patchy, I just look at Video Hits with the sound turned down, trying not to get too excited, and it all comes back to me.
No, I don’t have fantasies about assertive women. Nowadays most of my fantasies are about pastry and part-time employment.
No, I won't read your manuscript and comment on it. I work full-time and write part-time. I don't have time to scratch. You are right, though, to ask someone you don't know to read your work. Ask your local writers' centre if they can recommend a manuscript assessment service which has a track record of asessing books in your genre.
Yes, I intentionally set Smoke and Mirrors in Canberra.
Yes, I promise that if there are more Bradman Chen books ... and more ministerial murders, a Liberal will be “done in”.
Q: What Have You Been Reading?
(Fiction) A Most Wanted Man by John le Carre (posted July 2009)
If it seems like I have been reading le Carre for decades, it’s because I have. Before Peter Temple, James Lee Burke, Robert Harris and Martin Cruz Smith there was le Carre, always le Carre.
The Smiley stories are so close to perfect that I would have retired after writing them, for fear of being unable to repeat work of such quality. Thankfully, le Carre didn't retire and some extraordinary books followed, including one that's part family history*and all “perfect spy story”.
If some of the later novels didn't seem to scale such remarkable heights -- whether because the end of the Cold War denied them essential impetus or because the high-tech spying of Jason Bourne seemed more in tune with the times -- there was something about every le Carre to reward the faithful.
For me the release of a new le Carre novel has always been an event. No one has captured the general tragedy of espionage and the defects and disappointments of its practitioners better. It is just as true to say, though, that le Carre is a master plotter -- there is nothing contrived or implausible in the course of his tales -- and the creator of entirely convincing characters.
A Most Wanted Man is proof of each of these claims. It's an entirely up-to-date story drawing on the fall of the old Soviet empire, Chechen terrorism, the “problem” of immigrant Muslim communities in Western cities, crooked banking and refugee politics. It is also about the competition between proliferating security agencies within and beyond individual nations. It is a story told from a number of different perspectives, all of them seemingly authentic. And at the centre of the book – for those of us whose devotion to le Carre goes back decades -- is Tommy Brue, who might reasonably have expected better of life and of himself, on the wrong side of 55, in love, in trouble and hoping yet to behave honourably.
Read this book but – bearing in mind the large cast of characters - do it over a weekend and not in confusion conducive pre-bed bits and pieces.
* le Carre wrote a remarkable article a number of years ago about his relationship with his father, a professional con man. It was entitled “A Sting in the Tale” and appeared in the AFR of 8-12 April 2004. It originally appeared in the New Yorker and may be accessible through the magazine’s web site. It’s a riveting read.
(Biography) King -- The life and comedy of Graham Kennedy by Graeme Blundell (posted July 2009)
Certainly, this is the story of Kennedy but it is also the story of the end of radio, the coming of television and the advent of celebrity. For various reasons I never saw much Kennedy on television but was impressed by his film appearances, wondered how he came to inspire such fanatical loyalty and wondered what his comedy roots/influences were. All of the answers are here but, just as interesting, so are revelations about how “slap dash” early television was in Australia... and about how little its players, including those behind the scenes, knew of its power. Blundell also explains Gra Gra’s comedic technique -- what he learned, how he learned it, and how he built on it to become our greatest TV jester. These are observations that only an actor of Blundell's experience and intelligence could make both coherent and interesting.
It did seem to me that early Kennedy received a more sustained scrutiny in this book than the middle/late career Kennedy. This may have been because, despite the passing of time, earlier Kennedy was easier to find and analyse. But it may also have been because there was less Kennedy to reveal as the man’s obsession with performance came to dominate his life. I suspect that it’s also because Blundell is a kind man who knows well enough the cost of celebrity. Like or loathe Kennedy, this is a most accomplished and absorbing biography.
(Fiction) Bombproof by Michael Robotham (posted July 2009)
I am a fan. I've read Robotham’s four other crime stories – one of them twice -- and I was delighted to pick this up as a freebie when I was purchasing something else (that, incidentally, turned out to be only half as much fun).
Robotham creates memorable central characters, uses London (and other settings) with absolute confidence and plots like a master. The central character of Bombproof, Sami Macbeth, is - as someone released from jail in the first few pages - an unlikely but entirely credible investigative tool. Fans of Vincent Ruiz, the retired policeman who appears in other Robotham crime stories, will be delighted with his return in a subordinate role.
There is a siege scene in this book which is remarkable, like the bombing scenes before it. If I had to find fault with Bombproof, it would be with trivial matters - with the villainous Ray Garza’s back story and with the aftermath of a shoot-out in an abandoned building, well into the tale. But let’s be clear about Robotham; he is a class act. I foolishly started this book late on a school night. I desperately wanted to put it down and get some sleep. I went to work weary.
(Literary Interviews) The Paris Review Interviews Vol 1 edited by Philip Gourevitch (posted July 2009)
I own quite a few collection of interviews with writers and my three favourites – Writers on Writing by James Roberts, Barry Mitchell and Roger Zubrinich; Literati by James Phelan and Tasting Life Twice by Ramona Koval – were deeply satisfying reads. The interviewees in Literati are all Australian; in Tasting Life Twice they’re mostly international heavyweights and in Writers on Writing they’re a mix of local and overseas writers. Each volume contains lots of highlighting, the occasional tick and the odd (exasperated?) cross, demonstrating engagement.
Assuming that I’d learned something from this previous focus on the thoughts of accomplished writers, why read more interviews? It isn't a matter of searching for additional or better advice on technique or working methods, even though it can be reassuring to read that successful -- even great -- writers share the same fears, doubts and ways of proceeding as we lesser beings. (I was going to write something here about how pleasing it can be to read that other writers also view the administration of a couple of sharp blows to one’s todger with a heavy object at the beginning of the working day as the best way of regaining focus after a night on the champagne ... but that would have been just silly, so pretend that you didn’t read this bit.)
Reading the Paris Review Interviews Volume 1 was as much about satisfying my curiosity as a reader as it was about satisfying the darker needs of a a virtual stalker of literary celebrities.
500 pages of interviews - 16 subjects – and the only interviews lacking spark were with the poets (with the exception of Borges) and Saul Bellow - yes, that is right. But even then, T S Elliot rewarded my attention by stating that “in The Waste Land I wasn't even bothering whether I understood what I was saying" - my thoughts exactly, TS! - and Jack Gilbert shocked me with his (defiant) simple take on life
The best of the 16 interviews? Sure, Dorothy Parker was witty and reminisced most satisfactorily, as did Billy Wilder and James Cain (The Postman Always Rings Twice), and Vonnegut was Vonnegut - no complaints from me on that score. My points, though, went to “the surprises”.
Truman Capote, detached from his annoying voice, is revealed as someone with a blazing intelligence; I'll be publicly recanting at the first opportunity and reading him, quick smart. Rebecca West, whose Meaning of Treason I picked up a couple of years ago, lived a remarkable life; I’ll also be reading more of her. Richard Price (scripts for various films as well as a swag of novels) provides an excellent insight into script writing and into the differences between writing for viewers and readers.
The blue ribbon, though, goes to the interview with Robert Gottlieb, editor and publisher - the man behind a large number of significant writers and well-known books. (The list of books he’s worked on is astounding.) The interview with him contains extracts from conversations with writers like Morrison, le Carre, Crichton, Heller, Caro and Richler. The man is clearly the editors’ editor. What he has to say about editing (and what his writers have to say about him) is recommended reading for all would be writers ie lots of highlighting, lots of ticks and no (exasperated) crosses.
Which writer(s) did the interviewees cite as the greatest influence? Conrad ... and at least a couple, maybe more, cited Victory as the novel to look at. And that reminds me of the indisputably bad thing about interviews as good as these: they make you want to read things that weren’t on the literary horizon and they make you want to revisit things that you’ve already got through. One life; so many books.
Before I'd finished volume 1 I'd ordered volume 2, without bothering to see who the interview subjects were.
(Did I express disappointment with the Bellow interview? I shouldn’t have. In it, Bellow states: ”Obliged to chose between complaint and comedy, I chose comedy, as more energetic, wiser and manlier.” Full marks to Saul.)
(Fiction) Up at Killen’s Corner by Alan Pierce (posted February 2009)
Don’t judge this book by its cover and don’t be put off by some early “och(s)” and “to be sure(s)”. This is an accomplished tale about a young Irish boy transplanted to coastal Victoria in the early 1950s. It’s an engrossing work in which the minor dramas and misunderstandings of childhood are used to propel the story with considerable skill. In short: an excellent read with many memorable scenes.
(Fiction) The Real World by Graeme Wicks (posted February 2009)
Again, don’t judge this book by its cover. This is a big, vastly entertaining tale about a would-be writer who retreats to the outback opal fields to pen the great Australian novel but is too quickly in beery company and soon possessed by the need to dig (to find himself). A big cast of often bizarre characters (including members of a Christian cult), along with interaction with local aborigines and some serious soul searching make The Real World a terrific read. In how many books set in the Australian outback is one likely to encounter a reference – in the one breath – to Foucault and Derrida? In short: lots of fun and plenty to think about, too.
(Fantasy) The (First) Chronicles of Thomas Covenant by Stephen Donaldson
(posted February 2009)
I don’t read much fantasy and I certainly don’t make a habit of reading fantasy novels of greater than 1,100 pages. However, I first read these books more than a quarter of a century ago, it was Christmas when I rediscovered them and I was curious about their “staying power”. The central premise is still spellbinding and the story proved to be as riveting as it was first time around, even if I winced at the first few mentions of Kevin Landwaster and his lore. (Kevin’s Lore sounds like the corporate memory of a bunch of wargaming geeks.) In short: a great adventure … and I’ve still got the second volume of three books to come (next Christmas).
(Biography) The Naked Truth: A Life in Parts by Graeme Blundell (posted February 2009)
Anyone who has read Blundell in the Weekend Australian will know that he is a clever chap and that he writes like a champion. The Naked Truth does not disappoint. The early (growing up) chapters are beautifully evocative of childhood in the post-war years, while the middle (Melbourne theatre and Australian TV/film in the 60s and 70s) chapters demonstrate what a busy, “schizophrenic” and theatrically important life the writer led. However, it’s the material about Blundell’s relationships with the important women in his life – and, in particular, his ability to identify and explain the complexities in those relationships, without being self indulgent or letting himself off the hook – which most impressed me. In short: a thoughtful, beautifully written account of an interesting life.
GOT QUESTIONS YOU WANT ANSWERED? SEND THEM VIA THE CONTACT PAGE. I CAN"T GUARANTEE I'LL PUT RESPONSES ON THE SITE BUT TRY ME. | 
