Monday Interview: Steve Hamilton

After reading Steve Hamilton‘s first novel, A Cold Day in Paradise, it didn’t take me long to zip through the rest of his seven Alex McKnight novels. The last time I was this captivated by an author and his main protagonist, Michael Connelly was hooking me with his Harry Bosch books.

There are a few similarities there: A police background, a loner who pushes people away and a keen mind that is adept at solving crimes. There are similarities in the writers, too, in that both write extremely well about characters yet don’t let that get in the way of deftly plotted stories. Theirs are the kinds of books that reveal the whole “style over substance” argument as it relates to crime fiction a sham.

If Hamilton’s new novel is any indication, he and Connelly are soon to share another trait: successful novelists who are able to weave together a career alternating between series books and top-notch stand-alones. Connelly has proven adept at the practice, and Hamilton, with The Lock Artist, proves he is more than up to the task.

Instead of McKnight, a former pro baseball player and cop who now lives in a cabin in the remote Upper Peninsula of Michigan, we get Michael, someone once know as “the miracle boy” who now is a talented lock picker and safecracker. He is unlucky enough to show off his skills in the wrong company, and now he is forced into a life of crime. Further complicating things is that that “miracle” event left him unable to speak, so the best way he can communicate is through his detailed, skillful drawings. (If you want more than that, look around the web. Hamilton plays with time here, so to give away much more is to give away too much).

With this book, Hamilton has stepped up his game. Though the McKnight books are awfully good, The Lock Artist is the best thing he has done, a cleverly plotted, sophisticated story full of rich, well-drawn characters that leap off of the page. It should be a career-defining book, sating the appetites of patient fans pining for the next McKnight book, and drawing in many more who have been oblivious to this top-flight talent.

TIRBD: From a reader’s perspective, The Lock Artist is a book that clearly takes your writing to another level and is quite different in almost every aspect from the McKnight books. Does it feel that way from your perspective, and what signifies the differences for you?

SH: It does feel a lot different, yes. It’s a younger character, and the overall feeling in the book ties in a lot more closely to things I’ve felt in my own life. Not so much the lockpicking and safecracking, obviously, but the feeling of alienation and loneliness. With Michael, that feeling is a lot more dramatic, but otherwise the whole story could be like a strange dream version of my own teenage years.

You mention that writing Michael allowed you to write about alienation and loneliness. But Alex McKnight certainly deals with both of those things, too. How was this different?

I suppose you could do some psychoanalysis on me and find out why that’s such a recurrent theme – but in this new book those feelings hit a lot closer to home for me. Alex has his own brand of solitude, of course, but he was a good 10 years older than me when I first started writing about him (funny how I seem to be catching up to him now), and he’d already been through a career as a cop, a divorce, and a lot of other things that I can only imagine. In Michael’s case, he’s 17 and his life hasn’t even started yet. So, that’s something I could definitely relate to, looking back at that same point in my own life.

The book is quite specific in its detail about how to pick locks and crack safes, and has the feel of being more than a recitation of research. Did you try your hand at these things to get a feel for them and better your descriptions of the act?

I was fortunate enough to work with a lock expert – somebody who knows a lot about lockpicking and even more so about opening those $5 combination locks you see on every gym locker. (Very easy to open, it turns out.) I also found a gentleman who happens to be one of the best safecrackers in the world. He was incredibly kind and generous in helping me to understand what it feels like to open a huge, 800-pound safe. (He’s not a criminal, by the way! He’s a legal safecracker and that’s the only thing he does, every single day.)

Is technology getting to the point where a book like this might one day be historical fiction because everything will be electronic and skills like these will be dated?

Apparently (and don’t quote me on this), the electronic safes are fairly easy to crack if you have a special computer that can transmit the different codes at a high speed. There’s something about a good old-fashioned metal combination dial that people just naturally trust. I don’t think that’ll change for quite a while.

I would imagine that the character of Mike evolved for you as layers were added: young kid who suffered a tragedy and can now pick locks and can’t speak and is a great artist… did you worry at any point that you’d gone perhaps one step too far in giving Mike things to deal with, or did all of these seem vital from the start in terms of telling the story you wanted to tell?

It all started with the fascination with locks, and how that tied back to this thing that had happened to him. The muteness literally didn’t occur to me until I got to his first line of dialogue. Then it was just like, No, he’s not going to talk! That’s going to be the thing he has to deal with, every moment of every day. The talent with art followed after that, because without speaking he needs some way to impress a girl, right? Otherwise, it’s hopeless.

You set up an interesting premise that is fairly unique in crime and mystery fiction: the protagonist who is forced to use his skills in criminal pursuits. How does it change the dynamics of a crime story when there isn’t the clear cut choice between doing right or wrong?

Mike does know it’s wrong, of course, but he does it anyway, because it’s essentially the best choice he has. Although the first time was clearly a mistake, letting himself get roped into this seemingly innocent thing, because he succumbs to the basic idea of finally being popular at school. Eventually, he’s on the edge of becoming a full-fledged criminal, but at that point it’s just about
impossible to turn back. He does it for what he sees as a perfectly justifiable reason – to protect the one person he’s ever loved.

You mention on your web site that you’re back at work on another McKnight book. Does that process feel different now that you’ve been away for two books? Do you bring anything to it this time out that you learned from writing those other books that you might not have otherwise?

That was the idea. Take some time away from the series, recharge my batteries, become a better writer. (And never, ever get to the point where you’re just mailing it in!) I didn’t plan on doing two books outside the series – this new one just sort of got in my head and wouldn’t leave – but I’m glad it all turned out that way. Now that I’m back to work on the next Alex McKnight book, it all feels new again.

Given the success of The Lock Artist, do you foresee a new schedule that finds you alternating between series and non-series books like Michael Connelly, Laura Lippman and many others now do?

Absolutely yes. I’ll keep doing new and different things, and I’ll keep going back. (As long as people are reading the books, anyway.)

What is the status of the various film projects associated with your McKnight books?

I’ve been working (and reworking and reworking) on the “Cold Day” screenplay with Nick Childs – the director I worked with on “The Shovel.” He hopes to get that off the ground this year. Actually, this new book might get adapted first! There’s been some real interest, and talks are ongoing, as they say. Just think about it – some young actor gets to be in every scene, without ever having a line of dialogue! Talk about a breakout role, eh?