In Laymon's Terms

The bright side of my career in the U.S. aside from my fans, my reputation, and the collectors, is that I’ve found a pretty good home, for now, with Thomas Dunne at St. Martin’s Press. So far, I haven’t gotten much of a push there—but they are publishing my books regularly in hardbound, and the books are finding their way into the stores.

In fact, the St. Martin’s hardbounds turn up in larger quantities, for the most part, than my paperbacks.

My association with Thomas Dunne and St. Martin’s is the best relationship I’ve ever had with a U.S. publisher. I’m still waiting, however, for a U.S. publisher to decide one of my books is worth “getting behind.”

EG: You’re one of only a few writers, including Dean Koontz, who use humor to enhance the terror in your books. Most writers seem afraid to try that.

RL: Ed, please. That stuff wasn’t supposed to be funny.

The deal is, I like it when a book makes me smile or laugh. I like it when people make me laugh.

My feeling about fiction, regardless of the genre, is that it is meant to be a representation of life. I want my books to give a whole spectrum of experiences to my readers. Not just fear or terror or revulsion, but excitement, laughter, pain, sorrow, desire, etc.

Most of all, I like to surprise them.

EG: There’s not a “Richard Laymon World” literary theme park: white middle-class people who struggle, and sometimes perish, in a world so violent they can no longer comprehend it. There are great moments of humor, of tenderness, of sex, but there is almost never any respite from the sense of dread they all seem to feel. Is that a fair description?

RL: I would add that in my “World,” people are very often the authors of their own destruction. They may fall victim to temptation—or make a simple, grave mistake.

“For want of a nail, the shoe was lost...” is a big part of my fictional world.

Somebody gets careless.

Another aspect of my World: the bad stuff is generally perpetrated by people who are evil—not misunderstood.

And my protagonists meet evil with violence.

Usually the cops aren’t around, so normal, everyday citizens have to defend themselves or perish.

When I do have cops in my novels, they are always the good guys. They are the “thin blue line” that guards the gates of civilization against the barbarians.

A major theme underlying Quake is this: look what happens when the L.A.P.D. is put out of action. Chaos. We got a very small taste of it back in 1992, and Quake shows the possible results on a much larger scale.

EG: Describe your average working day.

RL: My average working day hit the skids when I started to watch the O.J. Simpson trial.

Normally, however, I get up and read for an hour or so. I’ll write from about 8:30 to 11:30 a.m., then have lunch, watch some news on TV, maybe read for a while and/or take a brief nap. Then I’ll return to my word processor at about 1:00 and continue writing until 3:00 or 4:00 p.m. Then I’ll quit for the day, read, and drink a couple of beers before dinner.

It’s a pretty loose schedule.

I might take a day off in the middle of the week and go to a movie or a mall.

I’ll usually work at least one full day each weekend.

My main goal is to write at least 30 pages per week on my novel. I’m very pleased when I go over 30, and delighted when I hit 50.

The main thing that messes up my schedule is travel. I generally spend about eight weeks per year away from home on various trips. They’re great for research, but they sure do interrupt my writing.

The great quantity of free time—and freedom in general—is one of the wonderful perks of being a writer.

EG: What are you working on presently? Do you see any big changes coming in your career?

RL: My next novel, to be published by Headline in June, is Island. It’s a contemporary suspense/adventure story in which a small group of people on a yachting trip gets marooned on an uninhabited tropical island.

It was inspired by Gilligan.

The most unusual feature of Island is that the entire novel consists of journal entries made by one of the castaways.

He got marooned with lots of paper. I’m joking, but not lying. People will need to read the book if they want to see how the guy found the time and supplies to write such an extensive journal.

Big changes in my career? I’m not planning on any major new directions in my writing. Things are obviously changing, though. I seem to grow more willing, all the time, to take big chances with my fiction. My philosophy is, “go for it.” If I blow it, I blow it. But I’d rather take a big risk, and fail, than find myself writing the same book again and again, just to be safe.

I’m actually allowed to feel that way because I know that Headline and my readers are on my side, rooting for me, and eager for more.

Originally Published in Cemetery Dance #25, 1996