Writing Between The Lines with Peter Straub
Peter Straub has achieved that enviable position of both critical and commercial success. Perhaps that's because, when he started, he faced the dilemma of needing to earn a living while desiring to take his writing beyond genre conventions.
"Essentially, I try to write as if there is no distinction between literary and commercial fiction," Straub says. "When I began, finding readers was very important to me. I wanted to be able to support myself with my writing, which meant that I had to sell a good number of books. At the same time, I wanted to write as well as I could, to do interesting things with structure and point of view, to create characters who were real human beings in real-world contexts. I wanted the reader to smell the cut grass, to see the undersides of leaves, to feel the earth underfoot."The author of such acclaimed novels as Ghost Story, Shadowlands and Koko, Straub has never lost a certain sense of play in his writing.
"One of my central concerns has been to ground the elements of horror and suspense in a firmly novelistic context. After that, I just tried to have a kind of fun, a kind of pleasure, in using the devices of metafiction, intertexuality, conflicting realities, shattered points of view, false endings, unreliable narrators, tonal shifts, whatever I could think of. My assumption going in was that horror was capable of doing anything and everything, that there were no real limitations or boundaries to it."
Straub has also collaborated with Stephen King on two projects, The Talisman and Black House. Not a bad writing partner. So I asked Straub, if he could collaborate with any other writer in history, besides King, who would he choose?
Straub's upcoming release is A Dark Matter. It has its roots in the crazy 60's, which Straub felt compelled to draw upon.
"The people I remembered were the wandering philosopher-freeloaders who began to appear on college campuses and in places like Haight-Ashbury in the mid-sixties. They attracted circles of admirers, followers, stooges, who supported them and listened to their endless explanations of everything under the sun. These guys were usually aged from 30 to 35, still young, but enough older than their victims to possess a kind of authority. They had sex with the good-looking girls, they were fed, they clothed themselves with the shirts and trousers of their male admirers. They lifted your jazz records and gave them to someone else. They talked and talked about The Tibetan Book of the Dead, Marcuse, Norman O. Brown, conspiracies, Buddhism, the apocalypse, drugs, politics. The 60s were filled with these phonies, rancid with them. Any account of the 60s that does not include them is incomplete.
"So I thought I'd write about the chaos left in the wake of one of these characters."
Straub continues a steady literary pace. I asked him about his "typical" wrtiting day.
"These days, I am no longer capable of the ten-hour stretches I used to put in, day after day, night after night. My work day begins around 11 in the morning and there is a break for lunch around 1:30 or 1:45. At 2:00, while eating lunch, I wander through Llanview, PA, an amazing little city where anything can happen: amnesia, resurrections, dopplegangers, serial killers, arson, rapes, visitations from the heavenly realms... I'm telling you, in Llanview they live life with a capital L. At 3:30 or thereabouts, I return to my desk and work till about 7:00. If I get in five hours of work, it's a good day, and I know I've had it until the next time."
James Scott Bell is the author of Deceived (Zondervan) and Try Darkness (Hachette/Center Street), as well as two bestselling books on the craft of fiction. His website is www.jamesscottbell.com

