Ask the Writer with Dennis Lehane

Dennis Lehane is the bestselling author of Mystic River and Gone, Baby, Gone. Mr. Lehane graciously agreed to take some time and answer a few questions for "Ask the Writer," including his thoughts on the movie business, his upcoming novel The Given Day (Sept. 2009), and whether there is in fact any hope for the aspiring novelist.

Just what does it take to make it as a writer? What are the perks and pitfalls of a writing life? And, perhaps most importantly, does Dennis Lehane hate ballpoint pens? Read on to find out.

Q:  In your forthcoming novel, The Given Day, you vividly bring to life an expanse of Boston history, from the Spanish influenza outbreak to the Police Strike of 1919. What was it like to write such a sweeping, complicated, and intricate novel?

A:  The short answer is it sucked. I would strongly recommend nobody ever attempt a historical epic. It's for crazy people. Way too much hard work. I'm glad it's done. I hope it's good.

Q:  What is your favorite aspect of writing, or of being a writer? Can you think of a specific story to go along with that part of your writing life?

A:  Sometimes, you go to your desk first thing in the morning and there's nothing in your head but the lyrics to Viva Las Vegas. Yet, somehow by the end of the day, you've created characters from nothing but ether and had them walk around doing interesting things. That "somehow" is why I love what I do. I also like having a job that doesn't require shaving. I enjoy being able to crack a beer at work if I feel like it. If I wore pajamas, I could spend my entire work day in them; I don't wear pajamas, but the principle still applies.

 Q: Events in The Given Day sometimes eerily parallel 21st century America. As I read the book I came to understand that this is not the first time America has faced such broad insecurity. To what extent did these parallels--the immigration tensions, terrorism threats, and economic uncertainties, to name a few--inform your writing for a contemporary audience?

A:  The parallels reared their head very early. I had no hand in that; the gods wrapped me a gift. All I had to do was put it to paper; editorializing or commenting on the parallels in any fashion would have been redundant. History proves that, time and time again, fear or the perception of powerlessness produces fascist impulses in people and societies. The more afraid you are, the more vicious and infantile you usually become. I don't think I say anything revolutionary in that regard with The Given Day, but that doesn't mean it shouldn't be said and said as much as possible.

Q:  Two of your previous novels--Mystic River and Gone, Baby, Gone--were made into major Hollywood films (to critical acclaim). How was your experience with those films, from preproduction to premier, and how do you view the relationship between film making and publishing?

A:  Film and books share a narrative identity, but that's about it. Film is passive entertainment; books are active. Film is interpretative of the book it adapts, but the book itself is procreative in a way that film can't be. Put another way, if a film is an omelet, the book is the hen. My experience with film, thus far, has been overwhelmingly positive. I've been blessed with two terrific scripts, two exceptionally talented directors (who, oddly, both came from an acting background) and their interpretations have been respectful of the source material without making the mistake of being reverential. Can't say enough about Señors Eastwood and Affleck really--both were true gentlemen in every sense of the word, both were very determined to deliver visions of my novels that were decidedly un-Hollywood, and both invited me into the process at the earliest stages and kept me involved through the premieres and, in the case of Mystic River, well into awards' season. In both cases, outstanding omelets.

Q:  John Gardner once wrote that the question he was most asked was, "Do you write with a pen, a pencil... or what?" He said he thought this question delved into the mystical aspect of writing, and questions, at its deepest level, whether there is in fact any hope for the young writer. So I have to ask, do you write with a pen, a pencil... or what? Is there any hope, and, if there is, what is your best advice to students and aspiring authors?

A:  Why wouldn't there be hope? You wake up, you decided you want to tell a story, you try that thing. Right from Jump Street, you are involved in an act of creation and what's more hopeful than that? Where people make a potentially catastrophic mistake is to think they can take shortcuts. Sorry, but there aren't any. No matter what the How To Write a Bestseller books tell you (normally written by people who've never written bestsellers; interesting) or the "10 Tips to Writing the Perfect Thriller Every Time!" articles in writers magazines, the truth is that this is hard, hard work. It is not for the lazy or those who confuse wanting something with earning it. Good writing is about depth--depth of character and structure and insight and language. If you're not willing to accept that and earn your keep, well, maybe there is no hope. But if you are willing to work, then, heck, there's no reason you can't be the next Toni Morrison.

      I write with a pen and it's got to be a rollerball. I hate ballpoint like I hate cilantro. In fact, if ballpoint was all that was left in the world, I might never produce another line.