Brad Parks: Monday Interview

Posted by John Kenyon

As I mention in the first question below, I got it in my head a decade or more ago that I would start writing a mystery with a newspaper reporter as the main character. There are many similarities between reporters and detectives, so it seemed like a no-brainer. And I was a reporter for a daily newspaper, so all of my source material was right in front of me.

I looked and found a few, but not as many as I expected, and few of any prominence. I decided that what the world needed was my take on things, and fired up my computer. That idea stalled about 5,000 words in as I realized that a great character was one thing; a great story is another. I had what I thought was the former, but nothing resembling the latter.

With his Carter Ross series, Brad Parks has both in abundance. In Ross, Parks has created a smart, witty, self-aware investigative reporter for the fictional Newark Eagle-Examiner, kind of like a transplanted Myron Bolitar without the athleticism (and without the creepily efficient sidekick). And, he has very well-plotted stories that blend ripped-from-the-headlines verisimilitude with the right amounts of action, grit and humor.

It’s no surprise that his debut, Faces of the Gone, became the first book to win the Nero and Shamus Awards, two of crime fiction’s most-prestigious prizes. The second, Eyes of the Innocent, picks up where the first left off, this time looking at the fallout of the home mortgage crisis (and yes, it is miles more compelling than that one-line description might suggest).

I have been a newspaper reporter and editor for 20 years, so I’m predisposed to like Parks’ work. Or rather, I’m predisposed to judge it harshly if he gets anything wrong. He doesn’t. These are as much a snapshot of an industry in evolve-or-die mode as they are engaging tales of crime fiction. Parks gets it right, and does so in a way that will have you coming back for more. The good news is that Parks has completed the next two Ross books, so while we’ll have to wait to read them, at least we know they’re in the pipeline.

TIRBD: I remember a decade ago searching for mystery books with reporters as the protagonists and finding precious few. Now, there seem to be many more (probably correlating to the number of laid-off journalists looking for a new career). What are your thoughts about joining the fray and did you ever consider having a main character who wasn’t a reporter?

BP: Well, in fairness, I started writing Faces of the Gone in 2005. So in my mind, I originated the trend. All these other guys – Bruce DeSilva? Todd Ritter? Frauds! Wanna-bes! Gauzy imitators of my greatness! OK, seriously… I wish I could tell you I put all kinds of thought behind creating Carter Ross, my investigative reporter protagonist. But, really, I was still working full-time as a reporter myself, writing this thing during mornings, nights and weekends. I needed a world I could create without doing a lot of research. And I knew, having started writing for newspapers when I was 14, I could write a reporter off the top of my head.

Journalism is a very particular form of writing: short, declarative sentences, the most important facts at the top, nothing unverified making it to print, etc. What has the process been like to transition to novel writing?

I probably never wrote much like a journalist should have. I tended to craft these longer, meandering sentences; I buried my ledes in the sixth, eighth or tenth inch whenever I could get away with it; and, as a sportswriter for much of the time, I got to play a little looser with the attribution than most. So I had less to un-learn than most of my journalistic brethren. But more than that, I’ve found there’s something universal about writing, and it applies no matter what media or genre you’re attempting. Writing is just articulating thoughts on paper. Sure, the conventions change based on the constraints of who you’re writing for or what you’re writing. But the basic act does not.

Did you always envision yourself as a novelist, and if so, was journalism a training ground?

In the back of my head, there was always this idea that, after a long and successful career as a journalist, I would transition into writing crime fiction as a semi-retirement career. Then the newspaper industry started going into its death spin, so I skipped the “long” and “successful” parts of the plan and made the jump about two decades earlier than originally thought. That said, I always knew journalism would be great training for whatever I did next. Working for a daily newspaper forces you into so many good habits as a writer and, for that matter, as a learner. You are constantly put into a position where you have to quickly master a subject and condense what you’ve learned into a concise, coherent narrative. That’s a rare skill in this world. I can’t recommend journalism enough for any young person who wants to have some kind of future with words.

Did you keep notes during your journalism career of things you might be able to use in fiction later?

Not in any organized sense. (Nothing about me, it turns out, is very organized). Mostly I rely on memory. And if it turns out that memory is slightly flawed? Well, what the hell, I write fiction now.

By setting your books contemporaneously, you have created a character whose profession is going to change drastically over the next decade or so. At the same time, you have already completed the next two Carter Ross books. Do you ever fear your writing might be outpaced by events?

Carter Ross is a reporter who is given time to flesh out longer stories and do the heavy lifting often required in serious investigative journalism. And, yes, I fear that means he is already being filed in the “Historical Fiction” part of the bookstore. But, at least for the moment, newspapers seem to have stabilized, albeit at a new normal that is something less than what they were. Hopefully they can stay there for a while. But if they really all do go over the cliff – and it won’t take much more than a strong breeze to send them toppling – well… did I mention I write fiction now?

You seem to have embraced the promotional duties that come with being a writer today. Frankly, you seem like a bit of a ham. Has the career change allowed you to indulge that more, or have you always been like that?

“Ham” is a much nicer word than the one most people use: “whore.” Either way, yeah, this is who I am and have always been – for good or ill. It’s not like I became an author and then suddenly started bursting into song everywhere I went. (Some of my ex-newspaper colleagues, who have shared a newsroom with me, have suggested I sing so much it’s more accurate to say I burst into speech). And I know it’s popular for authors to gripe about having to promote themselves, but I actually sort of like it (does it show?). The writing is what I really love, of course, but I only get to keep existing as a writer if I sell enough books. So I might as well enjoy that part, too.

You aren’t going to be named honorary chair of the Newark Convention & Visitors Bureau anytime soon. Do you feel you’re fair to the city in your depiction? Have you received feedback about it?

I have yet to hear one bad word from anyone in Newark – and, trust me, Newark is the kind of place where folks aren’t shy about voicing their thoughts. The fact of the matter is, I walked those streets for a long time and know the city intimately. Anyone who shares that level of familiarity would know my depiction of Newark is dead accurate. I mean, yes, I’m writing crime fiction. But guess what? There’s crime in Newark – just like there’s crime in most places. If anything, one of the goals of my fiction is to humanize (as opposed to sensationalize) that crime. In Faces of the Gone, one of the victims is a prostitute. Be honest: If you hear “hooker killed in Newark,” do you give that story a second thought? Probably not. But in Faces, you meet her best friend, her mother. You hear about her life. She becomes not just a faceless victim but a real human being. Maybe that’s not going to make me Grand Marshall of any parades in Newark anytime soon, but I’d like to think I present a compassionate view of the city and its people.