Author Q&A with Dean Koontz

December 13, 2006

First: In the e-mails you leave for me at the e-mail address given above, I'm being asked to send signed photos, books for charity auctions, and old socks for Old Sock Festivals. I'm happy to do all of that, but I must have a mailing address. Because of the popularity of "Author Q&A," I can't respond to every e-mail and seek addresses where needed. If you're asking for something that has to be sent by snail-mail, either leave an address where the snail can find you, or write to me at the post office box listed below:

Dean Koontz
PO Box 9529
Newport Beach, California 92658

 

This installment of "Q&A" features eleven questions from the Barnes & Noble readers' group for THE HUSBAND. Most of you visiting this site will not have seen them. Yes, including 11 questions is a profound violation of the protocols of this column, and I deserve a spanking.

Question #1

Why is the word "ululate" in all your books.

I'm not going to read all my books over the weekend to prove this answer, but I suspect I don't use the word "ululate" in more than 39.5% of them. I'll admit that may still be a high ululate ratio, as compared to other writers, and my only self-defense is to say that I strive hard to use the best word at all times. Because I set many of my books in California and the Southwest, and because I depict nature as vividly as I can when the story calls for scenes in the green of things, coyotes from time to time appear. If you have ever heard a pack of coyotes crying with excitement while chasing down prey, you know that their singularly eerie voices, raised together, can best--and perhaps only--be described as a ululation. I'm sure most of the ululating that goes on in Koontz novels involves coyotes. Then, of course, because I live in California, I'm surrounded by all kinds of crazy ululating cults; I can hardly get through the day without encountering at least a hundred public ululators, so when I sit down to write, the word is always in my head.

Question #2

In THE HUSBAND, why are the chapters from Holly's point of view in present tense instead of past tense like the rest of the book?

Why are the chapters from Holly's point of view in present tense instead of past tense like the rest of the book? Previously, I have used this tense switch in a few books for different effects. For instance, in INTENSITY, the scenes from the killer's POV, and only his POV, are in present tense because it helps to convey his sociopathic personality; he lives in the moment, with no regrets for the past and no expectations for the future, he lives right here, right now with intensity. To discuss any of the several reasons I used present tense for Curtis in ONE DOOR AWAY FROM HEAVEN would be to spoil all the mysteries of Curtis for anyone who hasn't read that book. In THE HUSBAND, by the time we meet Holly, Mitch's situation has become so desperate, the pace so urgent that I didn't want Holly's more static situation--in the dark, chained to a ringbolt--to read as if I had slammed on the brakes. By using present tense for her scenes, I was able to give immediacy to the first line of her first scene and put the reader more in the moment. I also felt that Holly's ebullient personality, her humor even in a crisis, allowed her to be a refreshing counterpoint to the darker tone of the other material in the book, and that this effect was heightened by present tense. Several readers have written to me, saying that their hearts sank when they realized Holly's scenes were in present tense, because they at once assumed this meant her survival was a moment-to-moment thing and that in the end she would die. Their sinking hearts made me so happy, because it was, indeed, one of my intentions to put that thought in readers' heads, even if only subconsciously, and make them anxious.

Question #3

Are the quotes from Hemingway and Dickinson, at the front of THE HUSBAND used only because they are apt, or are they favorites of yours?

The quotes from Hemingway and Dickinson, used as epigraphs, were chosen for their aptness to the story. I've long been a reader of Dickinson, and after a long time away from Hemingway, I've recently been rereading some of his best short stories. I've also been reading Flannery O'Conner and find that every time I let five or ten years pass between rereadings of her work, I'm more blown away by it than I was the last time. Since the stories don't change, I assume this means I am changing. It may even mean I am growing up!

Question #4

What novel of yours featured a man-eating pig-like creature that lived in a sewer and was most likely written in the late 1980s? -- Reader #1892917

Wow. Here's an interesting question from Reader #1892917. What novel of mine featured a man-eating pig-like creature that lived in a sewer and was most likely written in the late 1980s? If I had ever done drugs, which I never have, this sounds like a book I would have written while totally stoned on some chemical that not only disoriented the mind but reduced the IQ by fifty points. I suppose if I have multiple personalities unknown to me, one of them might have written such a novel, but then I think I would have known it was happening because all the pig research done by that other me would have left the office reeking every time I came to work in my Dean persona. Sorry, but I think the novel you're remembering was written by someone else, possibly William Faulkner or Henry James. By the way, I have met #1892917's multiple personalities--#1892917A and #1892917B, and they were really nice people.

Question #5

Did Trixie like THE HUSBAND?

Yes, Trixie liked THE HUSBAND with one complaint. She felt that the role of the golden retriever, in the first two chapters, was too small. She felt that the book would have been a lot better if Mitch had proved not to be at all resourceful and if, instead, the golden retriever had found Holly, captured the various malevolent types in the story, and been given a significant part of the bad guy's money for squeaky plush toys.

Question #6

I bought a signed copy of a Koontz book, but it didn't have the middle initial in the signature. Later, I saw your books signed with the initial. Is this your signature or did I get ripped off?

Carrie, you did not get ripped off if you have a signed book in which I failed to include my middle initial. Years ago, I dropped the R from my by-line but for a while still included it in my signature. Then, after doing a series of book signings at which I signed over 8,000 copies, I realized that including my middle initial had been a reckless squandering of time. The initial and the precisely placed period following it required a full second to execute. In that single series of book signings, I had spent 133 minutes providing an initial that most readers didn't need, and that those people with a phobia about the letter R actually found repellent if not terrifying. I figured that if I did book signings every year for 40 years, I would have gained 88 hours of time for other pursuits. Recently, I have begun to wonder what I will do with those 88 hours when I have fully earned them, and the possibilities are enormously exciting. At the moment, I think that because there is little else I love doing more than eating nachos, I will have an 88-hour marathon nachos-eating session. (For a while, I considered that if I signed 8,000 books every day of the year, leaving out the useless letter R and the time-consuming period, I would gain more than thirty-three days of life each year. Then I realized there must be an even higher number of books that, signed without the initial every day, would save me so much time each year that I would live forever. But the math didn't work.)

Question #7

I really believe that there is no one in this world with a knack for words quite like you. Is it really magic or just genuine talent? If it's magic, can you tell me where to get some? --Jane

Jane, thanks for your kind words. I've always loved writers who are enchanted by our beautiful language--perhaps beginning in my youth with Ray Bradbury. Over the years, I have come to feel that the way a story is told matters as much as the story itself, and that the language with which a character is revealed can bring the character to life more effectively than can the very details of that character's history and personality. Developing an ear for the music of language also helps a writer with his dialogue. Talent is required, but is not the sole factor. I suspect I have an ounce of talent, not a gallon; but what I do have is a love of craft, which is why I can sit at the keyboard long hours, revising every page many times. Craftsmanship, when it becomes a passion, can produce effects that seem magical.

Question #8

How often does Trixie ululate? -- Michael

Michael brings us back to the ululation issue by asking how often Trixie ululates. Trixie is in fact such an uncannily calm and well-behaved dog that she rarely barks and never ululates. Her barkless behavior was so remarkable in her early years that once, after she let go with a three-bark explosion of disapproval aimed at another annoying dog, we decided to keep track of how many days passed between that outburst and her next. She didn't bark again for 96 days. Sometimes at night, when she hears coyotes ululating in the canyon, she becomes anxious. She comes to our bed and sits beside it, panting, until invited aboard. Then she sleeps at the foot of the bed, confident that the coyotes can't get her as long as Dad and Mom are nearby. Dad and Mom are confident the coyotes can't get us because we keep the doors locked and because the coyotes don't have a key (we will never make that mistake twice). Michael, considering your interest in ululation when the rest of us have moved on, I suspect you may be a closet ululator or may be an unconscious ululator not even aware of the ululation in which you are periodically engaged. If so, some clues may be: 1) awakening from a trancelike state to discover that some of your windows and all your crystal glasses have been shattered; 2) sullen neighbors; 3) coyotes following you everywhere you go, with adoring gazes.

Question #9

Are you right or left-handed. I've heard that people who are left-handed (as I am) think differently from those that are right-handed.

Julia, I am right-handed, which would be all right except that I am one of those rare right-handed people who suffers from solodexterous ignoratio, a condition in which the right hand never knows what the left hand is doing. My right hand can be penning a love letter while my left hand is strangling an innocent passerby.My right hand can be sincerely waving bye-bye, while my left hand is making the most viciously obscene gestures, and my right hand remains blissfully clueless of what is transpiring only five fingers away. While engaged in a friendly shake with a new acquaintance, my right hand proceeds utterly unaware that my left hand is trying to gouge out this person's eyes, thus the right hand is surprised and its feelings are hurt when the new acquaintance, for no reason apparent to the right hand, tries to crush its bones. Conversely, my left hand always knows what my right is doing, but that is another story.

Question #10

Is there an intended parallel between Anson and Mitch, Cain and Able?

Absolutely, Mitch is the innocent Able, who does not recognize the evil in his brother; and Anson is the murderous Cain. This is a book about a man--Mitch--who was raised to see the world in shades of gray and to think like a moral relativist. He rejected the teaching of his father, and he leads an ethical life; but he has been numbed, by his upbringing, such that he cannot recognize true evil. In the course of this story, he awakens to the reality of evil in the world, perhaps even Evil in the upper case. When a story has twists in it, I always play fair with the reader, leaving clues, and when Taggart quotes God's words to Cain--"Blood cryeth unto me from the ground"--a little foreshadowing is indeed underway. I am fair but also sneaky.

Question #11

You go into detail describing Holly's grandmother's items in the garage attic. Why? They only become pertinent to the story at one point, but it's obvious you are saying that Mitch isn't seeing something, that they are necessary to the story. -- Laurene

Laurene wonders why I spent ten lines or so, in Chapter 12, describing Holly's grandmother's items stored in the garage attic. Well, a lot is going on in this scene aside from the action, and it has to do with the theme of the discovery of evil, mentioned above. Evil and chaos are often equated. The evil that has entered Mitch's life, for which he is unprepared, is about to spawn chaos when the gunman in the garage accidentally falls to his death, complicating Mitch's situation enormously. Mitch's cruel upbringing was evil, while Holly's grandmother raised her in a benign atmosphere of love and order--which is one reason Mitch is so intensely drawn to Holly, for she embodies the reason and order for which he yearns. By bringing to your attention the grandmother's collections, and the ebullient traditions with which she celebrated every major and minor holiday, I am hoping to establish, in ten lines, the contrast between Mitch's childhood and Holly's. In Chapter 15, on page 98, when Mitch stands in the garage attic, thinking that an important truth is hiding from him in plain sight, he is beginning to come to the recognition that Evil and Good exist, that the definition of evil is not relative, and that the loveless and irrational world of his father is beginning to poison the loving and ordered life he has built with Holly--which it is indeed poisoning, through the medium of his brother. Now I've just spent ten times more words explaining why grandma's collections were described than I used to describe them in the first place. But I've always believed that this kind of subtle building of background is preferable to three pages of flashbacks to show the grandma being a loving person and a keeper of traditions!

Next Installment Coming Soon!