Q&A/FAQ

1. Your most recent books, City of Masks and Land of Echoes, feature a paranormal investigator who uses science, psychology, and traditional mysticism to help people troubled by ghosts. Why did you choose this theme? What’s so compelling about ghosts?

The idea of writing about the adventures of an empathic paranormal researcher originated with my neighbor and friend, Christine Klaine, who approached me at a gathering and told me her preposterous idea for a fifty-book series. I was involved with other projects of the time and wasn’t sure I’d ever get to it, but after a couple of years of thinking about it I began to see its wonderful possibilities.

My take on the paranormal is distinctly my own, and my idea of ghosts doesn’t much resemble the images we usually see in movies, horror stories, or fairy tales. Like my protagonist, Cree Black, I’m trying to figure out a few fundamental truths that will help me live a good life. Cree and I believe in the literal reality of ghosts, but – just as important – we also think of them as allegories or symbols for psychological processes. Their occurrence provides an opportunity for people to better understand, and to change, their lives.

In the old days, ghosts were viewed primarily through a religious lens. But now there’s a world-wide paranormal research community in which every imaginable explanation, theory, or philosophy is represented. This ancient, universal idea continues to fascinate people, and science has by no means invalidated the idea of ghosts. On the contrary, it has provided new concepts, technologies, and terminologies to help us study them.

Ultimately, I chose the theme because I saw it as a way to learn while writing and to explore many fascinating aspects of the world. In our era, the phenomenon of ghosts bears upon many disciplines and domains of knowledge. History, of course, because ghosts are presumably the revenants of someone who lived in the past; physics, because we want to understand the mechanics of manifestation; philosophy and religion, because the idea of extra-corporeal survival of mind has important implications about our fundamental nature, the meaning of life, and what happens after death; psychology and neuroscience, because ghosts and the belief in them reveal the workings of the human mind. The list goes on: folk history, cultural anthropology, geography, forensics, architecture – you name it. Plus, with each book set in a different locale, there are America’s incredibly diverse landscapes and regional cultures to explore.

What’s great about this for me as a writer is that it allows me to bring all these fascinating aspects of the world into my stories, to weave them into exciting adventures and mysteries.

2. Have you ever had paranormal experiences?

Many. But they don’t much resemble the classic spectral encounters. Most occurred in the course of my studying shamanism and various meditation techniques. I’ve practiced yoga and other disciplines since I was seventeen, and have often sought insight by taking rigorous vision quests in wild places. Mostly this is done at night, alone, in remote places where the elemental powers of the world are still manifest. So I’ve had many experiences that defy conventional scientific explanations and that have profoundly affected my life. “Paranormal” may not be the best word for such events; “magical” is a more accurate term, and more poetic, too.

That said, I don’t want to sound too somber. I’ve been fascinated by the paranormal since I was a kid. I devoured Charles Fort’s books on unexplained phenomena, I marveled at Edgar Cayce’s prophecies; I drove myself crazy speculating about UFO sightings and abductions. I studied J.B. Rhine’s parapsychology experiments at Duke University and repeated them at home with my friends. I loved cryptozoology and reports about the Yeti, Sasquatch, Loch Ness monster, Mokele Mbembe, and the rest of the mysterious menagerie. I yearned to possess the powers of Mesmer and the fakirs, and wondered what they told us about the capacities of the mind. I shuddered with morbid delight reading histories of the Salem witch trials, squirmed at Medieval histories of possession and exorcism, and pestered my elderly aunts to tell yet again our true family ghost stories.

Most kids go through a similar period, during which they realize just what a strange place the universe is. It’s human curiosity at its most urgent and open-minded. I hope some of the sheer tantalizing wonder of it comes through in my books.

3. You were a guitarist who played twice at Carnegie Hall, recorded three solo albums of your own compositions -- including the popular Willow on Windham Hill Records -- and performed hundreds of concerts throughout the United States, Europe, and China. Why did you stop playing?

A medical condition affected my hands and made playing very difficult, even when I was an active performer; by 1986, it was getting just about impossible. Giving up the guitar was really tough, but, looking back, I’m glad I did. For one thing, my compositions were very “athletic” and required constant practice, and I never seemed to get as good as I wanted to be. More importantly, I was deflected into writing, which I consider my true calling. Telling stories comes naturally to me – even my guitar pieces were more “narratives” than “tunes” – and I seem to have an inexhaustible fund of ideas, observations, and passions to draw upon.

4. You’re known for doing in-depth research for your novels. How do you conduct research, and why is it so important?

Research is one of the most enjoyable parts of writing! I like to read dense novels, and so I tend to write dense novels, rich in fact and detail. I do a lot of reading research, of course, but I especially enjoy the hands-on side of it – meeting people, interviewing them, traveling to the places where my books are set and walking around, getting the feel of the place, eating in the restaurants, prowling about at all hours. I love being on my own two feet in a new and interesting environment, and I like being able to bring that feeling to readers.

For City of Masks, I read books on Louisiana history, folklore, botany, politics, arts, etc.; but more importantly, I also spent five weeks living in New Orleans. I explored old houses, ate regional foods, got drunk on Bourbon Street, visited museums and research libraries, interviewed people, wandered, hung out. I was a spy. I like to think that I know the city so well I could get a job as a cab driver there!

Preparing for the next book in the Cree Black series, Land of Echoes, I spent over a month in New Mexico and Arizona, lived with a family on the Navajo Reservation, went for walks among Anasazi ruins, climbed around in canyons and lava fields, went to museums, gorged myself on delicious Navajo fry-bread and roast mutton, and went for long, wild horse rides over the open desert.

Research isn’t just part of writing, it’s part of the life of the writer – a way to live an adventurous life and to continually hone the edge of one’s enthusiasm for the topic at hand.

5. Neuroscience plays some part in all of your books – it’s a central theme in Skull Session and The Babel Effect, and you even take a neuroscientific look at serial killing in Puppets and at the paranormal in City of Masks and Land of Echoes. What’s so fascinating about neurology and neuroscience?

The human brain is the real “final frontier.” Whatever we see in our microscopes or telescopes still comes to us through the filter of our own senses and central nervous system. Recent advances in neurology, neurochemistry, and cognitive neuroscience are rapidly changing our view of self, family, society, behavior, belief, values, good and evil, and personal responsibility. There’s great promise and great risk in what we’re learning, and that combination of hope and danger makes fertile material for the writer.

The brain is also amazingly quirky and mysterious, as Oliver Sacks’s books show so well, and thus endlessly fascinating.

The fundamental question I asked in Skull Session and explore to some degree in all my books is, “Are we biochemical machines or intentional personalities?” In the Cree Black books, the question becomes, “Are we merely material beings, or can mind and personality exist beyond the physical brain? Are we mechanical or magical?” The answers are ambiguous and intriguingly complex.

I’ve always been fascinated with the mysterious interface between brain and mind, material reality and thought, body and spirit. For the writer, the neurosciences offer a new vocabulary for dealing with these important concerns, and a new conceptual environment in which to set marvelous adventures.

6. Although you took up writing professionally only after many years as a musician, you attended the famous Iowa Writers Workshop and have been very prolific in the years since you graduated. How do you write? Are there particular techniques you recommend?

I write every day. Every writer has different way of working, but for me it’s best to start first thing in the morning. It’s always hard, but I find it enjoyable and I’m completely addicted to it – I turn into a monster when something prevents me from writing. When I’m composing new material, I can manage only three or four hours before I burn out. On a bad day, this might produce no usable material at all; on a great day, ten pages; on average, three pages. When I’m done, I wander around in a post-verbal haze for the rest of the day, doing something very physical (like running or swimming, or maybe carpentry, in a hopeless attempt to fix up my old barn of a house), or doing other writing related work such as research, correspondence, organizing my notes, talking to agent and editor, and so on. Revising and copy-editing is much less demanding for me; I can manage eight or ten hours in a day.

The best techniques are very simple. Live a life. Look around. Don’t be afraid to ask questions. Read good writing. Be patient. Don’t be afraid to write badly; you can fix it up later. Try to eliminate distractions. Look for your own passions and trust that they’re what you should write about. Remember that the best stories are found where forces converge, where multiple interests or concerns or topics collide and create conflict, synergy, and spark: “Connect, only connect,” as E.M. Forster said.