It is not often that my Routledge Encyclopedia of Western Philosophy finds itself   on the desktop alongside the yellowing copy of Joe Bob Briggs's collected drive-in   movie columns from the Dallas Times-Herald. But then, Robert Ferrigno is that   kind of writer. He has college degrees in Philosophy, FilmMaking and Creative   Writing, collecting his BA in Philosophy on the basis of a thesis on logical   positivist Ludwig Wittgenstein, the influential British philosopher who was first a   pupil, then a close friend of Bertrand Russell. Joe Bob Briggs will, I hope, come   up with some detail on Shockwaves, the cult Nazi zombie movie by   schlockmeister Ken Weiderhom that Frank Thorpe, the protagonist of Ferrigno's   marvellously entertaining new novel, The Wake Up, uses to tempt into the open   his fellow `black ops' expert known as The Engineer, now operating as a maverick   independent.

Sadly both publications fail me. The Wittgenstein entry is obscure to me (even Ferrigno claims that he no longer understands a word of his thesis) and Joe Bob apparently never got to see Shockwaves (though he liked Meatballs 11, another key work by Weiderhom).

Wittgenstein, of course, was famously fond of crime fiction, particularly the hard-boiled variety (sceptics should read Josef Hoffman's persuasively argued article Ludwig Wittgenstein and Norbert Davis in the October 2003 issue of CADS) and it's a fair bet that were he around today, he might indeed be reading Ferrigno.

Enter, in The Wake Up, Frank Thorpe, the latest in a series of morally compromised lead characters that started with The Horse Latitudes (1990) with Danny DiMedici, an ex-drug dealer whose attempts to go straight are frustrated when he becomes the key suspect in the disappearance of his ex-wife. As Ferrigno points out in a recent interview for the US National Review, "None of my protagonists are cops, and there is little official police presence. This began instinctively and has since become quite deliberate, as a reflection of the moral imperative of my fictional universe. I don't like characters who are required to do the right thing as part of their job descriptions-so no cops, no fire-fighters, no crusading attorneys. I prefer the individual who is confronted with a moral choice and, out of his own free will, does the right thing. The fact that the consequences of such action are that things are frequently made worse is part of the moral conundrum."

At the same time, it is hard to imagine a setting more appropriate to these moral dilemmas than Ferrigno's southern California. Ferrigno likes it for its "linguistic mix, the amalgam of surf lingo with black street slang, Hollywood hype and homeboy Spanish, all clashing and clanging together" and regards the place as "the epicentre of a certain sleek, cutting edge cool, a place of vast ambition and a willingness to do whatever it takes to achieve it..:" Just the sort of setting in fact that might have intrigued Wittgenstein - a moral laboratory perhaps, a 21st century equivalent to the social turmoil of the 1930s onwards that may have influenced his later work.

But let's not get too philosophical. After all, you should read Ferrigno not just as a mordant observer of strange Californian life forms, but as a crime writer, a label incidentally he is proud to wear, one of America's best. 2003's Scavenger Hunt (shortlisted for the 2004 Shamus Award) was my introduction to his work, and it proved to be one of the sharpest, funniest crime novels I read that year - and certainly the most brilliantly plotted.

All that remains true of The Wake Up. But whilst there is no shortage of the Ferrigno trademarks - artful plotting, dialogue to die for, incisive characterisation, as well as sharp insights into the world of the Californian demi-monde - I do detect some differences of approach. For instance, this is his tightest, leanest book to date. Was that intentional, I ask? "Every novel has its own pace and arc", replies Ferrigno," I am a great believer in the stripped down lean machine model of fiction. I hate the sloppy, flabby-thighed cozy monstrosities. I'd rather leave the reader a little hungry than stuff them. I think there's an elegance in minimalism, a sense that there is more going on than the print on the page, sometimes even more than the writer him or herself knows. This allows the reader to breathe life into the work too."

What was he specifically trying to do with The Wake Up? " I'm fascinated," he says, " by the attempt to do the right thing in an imperfect world where our impressions themselves are suspect (the philosophy major emerges yet again). I wanted to write about a deeply flawed man attempting to redeem himself by doing a small bit of good, the most simple kindness, and having it all go terribly bad."

At the start of the book Frank Thorpe is kicking his heels after an abortive operation has failed to trap The Engineer and his associate Lazarus, a dope-dealing entrepreneur with ambitions in arms trading. That "small bit of good" Ferrigno mentioned is the wake up call that the unemployed Thorpe drops upon a business man who, full of his own importance, "hard charges" a ten year-old Hispanic trader at Los Angeles airport, sending his fruit and confectionery flying and injuring the kid in the process. But the wake up rebounds on socially ambitious Missy Riddenhauer (another spot-on portrait from Ferrigno) - and Missy, who is running a designer drug business to fund her ambitions, is not amused. Soon Thorpe is tangled up in a complex but skilfully handled plot that sees him, like some off-limits equivalent to Hammett's Continental Op, playing off the various factions to bring about some degree of justice.

Ferrigno's protagonists are what Ferrigno calls "talented outsiders" but he has never written a character more "outside" than this one. Thorpe is un-encumbered with either ex-wife or children, his past mainly an enigma. How did he come about? "I've been going through a particularly angry and hostile personal patch" says Ferrigno, "and the idea of a character devoid of most of the normal hu-man constraints and feeders is part of my psyche at the moment. While my ideal is sometimes this solitary outsider, the reality for Frank Thorpe is that it's a terrible, lonely isolation: no friends, no family, no one who touches him by the very nature of his black cps career. Yet when the career is suddenly over, Frank is bereft, without any of the normal mechanism of sustenance and delight. He is literally forced to recreate himself. In some ways, Thorpe is a highly dangerous infant."

Ferrigno's books are also notable for their range of great female characters , either as villains (like Missy Riddenhauer) or as romantic foils for his male characters. "Romance ups the ante for my protagonists" Ferrigno has said. But in The Wake Up romantic interest (in the form of Claire) though significant, is pushed well into the background. Why did Ferrigno feel that was necessary? "I felt that a deeply felt or significant romance would detract from Frank's odyssey," he replies. " The romance is frantic and misplaced and confused, because Frank is too conflicted. He's living in a world in which love puts both him in danger and the lover too. Frank needs love more than any character I've ever written. I rewrote the ending several ways before I was happy. There's even an earlier draft where he had a different love interest, but it was so nihilistic that I thought I would lose both Frank and the reader. This one worked for me without being saccharine."

Similarly, there are a lot of memorable villains in hard-boiled fiction, but many are caricatures. Ferrigno has written few more memorable heavies (I use the term loosely) than the sociopathic Arturo and Vlad, foot-soldiers for Missy Rippenhauer in The Wake Up. As so often Ferrigno delights in pulling the ground from beneath our feet, by revealing some unexpected aspect of their humanity which causes us to re-evaluate our feelings. Vlad, the "tall, pale" Romanian hitman "with wispy hair the colour of wet straw", is a classic case in point.

I fell in love with Vlad from the jump," says Ferrigno. " I had read in an article a few years ago about Ceausescu's human engineering programs - like the East German swimmers who were trained from infancy, goosed with drugs and growth hormone - only the Romanian dictator had more nefarious aims, superior soldiers and assassins. It never worked out very well. The science was still in its infancy and like the East German athletes, the subjects developed all sorts of odd cancers and had children with major birth defects. Vlad is one of my all time favourite bad guys be cause I care for him so much. Because of his upbringing in a lab, he's never had a childhood. So he has the sweetness of a child with the atrophied moral sensibilities of a white rat. The first time we meet him he's torturing a dope dealer and afterwards rides a ferris wheel, going round and round with pure delight. When I toured for The Wake Up in the US, everyone wanted to talk about Vlad. The girls love him."

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Ferrigno was born of Italian parents in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, some fifty-odd years ago. " South Florida when I grew up was truly primeval," he tells me. "I used to walk around barefoot most of the year, wore a hunting knife on my hip and set fire to the woods behind my house with regularity because I liked fire engines. I was about twelve at the time. My family was very passionate, very angry - my dad at sixty years old finally snapped and shot a man in the face with a .357 magnum. I used part of my advance for The Horse Latitudes to hire a good attorney and he beat the rap."

It's an explanation that makes me curious about his other formative influences, particularly those that lead him to Philosophy, Film-Making and Creative Writing, his subjects later as a university student. "My mother was huge reader of popular fiction," he explains. "I remember seeing lots of Frank Yerby-type steamy potboilers around the house, Mandingo*, an inter-racial civil war romance being my favourite for its lurid cover. My father read non-fiction and Shakespeare. We were a highly dramatic family who discussed politics and current events at every meal. Intellectual courage was highly praised and individuality encouraged, the greatest gifts any parent can give a child. My brother James read comic books, which is actually a pretty good way to learn story-boarding. So I used it all.
(* In fact by Kyle Onstott. BC)

The political upheavals of the late 60s left the young Ferrigno with an abiding distrust of politicians, a fact that perhaps explains the lack of overt politics in his novels. He cites the Chappaquidick incident in which a young Edward Kennedy "while probably drunk" left his date, Mary Jo Kopechne, to drown whilst he swam free, "He got a wrist slap. Last week he was on television haranguing a Republican nominee for attorney general who had written a memo suggesting that terrorists don't warrant coverage by the Geneva convention. What Kennedy seemed most upset about was the nominee allowing the use of `water boards' which simulated the fear of drowning in the terrorists. I found Kennedy's outrage hilarious. I hate all politicians but I hate the ones who drown their date the most."

On his website Ferrigno has cited Kafka's humour "amidst a losing battle" as a key influence. Is that a fair summary of his position now, I ask. " Absolutely," he replies. "My favourite fragment of Kafka's is a two page `story' about a doctor called in the middle of the night to take care of a patient. He answers the call and in the middle of the dark he is snatched away by wild horses and taken off forever. The tag line is `one false ring of the night bell ...once answered it can never be made right. Not ever.' Amen, dude."

But it was to be some time before Ferrigno found his niche as a writer. After graduation, a period as a college professor proved unfulfilling, prompting five years supporting himself playing poker, a fascination of his since the age of twelve, in and around Seattle, providing contacts with a great variety of people "that would later populate my novels." Yes, he just might write the great poker novel: "Some day, honest," he says. Later, after invaluable journalistic experience running his own punk rock magazine The Rocket, he joined a southern California daily newspaper as a feature writer, covering what he has called "the adventure-and-new-money beat", interviewing "everyone from strip-club hot-oil wrestlers to the retired joint Chief of Staff Curtis Lemay." More grist to the mill.

His first novel came as the result of his own wake up call, his wife's illness prior to the birth of their first child. "She was sick for months, almost died and our son was bom seven weeks premature. He is now 6'4' and healthy as a Bengal tiger. This experience made me realise that death is not only inevitable; there is no telling when that jaunty bastard will come knock knock knocking. So...fulfil your deepest desire, that which you fear the most. In my case it was writing the book that had been in my head for fifteen years, a book that became my first novel, The Horse Latitudes."

Elmore Leonard was, as for so many writers of Ferrigno's generation, another key influence. Though in Ferrigno's case, rather more direct than simply reading the books. Ferrigno had been working weekends on the book and got nowhere. "I interviewed him, and asked how he had written seven novels while raising five kids and working a day job at an advertising agency. He said get up early, five am, write for two hours and then get ready for work. Everyday was the key. I figured he was a better writer than I was, so I got up at four am and worked to seven. He was right. It's the only way to do it and hold down a job."

What was his aim in writing the novel? "I wanted to write about a man who makes a moral decision, to quit dealing dope" says Ferrigno, "and thereby loses the woman he loves, who leaves him because of his diminished economic circumstances." "Doing the right thing" he adds, " is almost always a bad idea, but the hero is constrained to do the right thing anyway. That's the essence of my moral philosophy."

The Horse Latitudes received an ecstatic reception in the USA. "The most memorable fiction debut of the season" said Time magazine. "There's a knowing heartache at its core that stays with you" said the New Yorker. But the review that pleased Ferrigno most came from Leonard himself. "An awesomely good writer" said Elmore. Says Ferrigno, "I have it framed in my office."

How did the book's early success affect his own ambitions? "Not a bit," says Ferrigno. " I always knew it was a permanent commitment. I quit my job at the paper when the book was half finished. Figured I would give it a year or two and if I failed I'd go back to another paper somewhere and keep writing. Fortunately two months after I quit the paper I found an agent who offered the half-finished book to nine New York publishers. Nine of them made offers." The Horse Latitudes was published by Wm. Morrow in the States in 1990 and in the UK by Hamish Hamilton that same year.

The second book Cheshire Moon (switching publishers in the UK to Simon & Schuster) followed three years later. It's the first of four novels (to date) that feature the highly unorthodox reporting staff of Antonin Napitano's Slap magazine ("attack journalism with attitude'), first the macho Quinn and its ace photographer, the green-eyed Jen Takamura, later the film columnist Jimmy Gage. In the UK, Mike Ripley, then the regular crime reviewer for the Daily Telegraph, was an early fan of the book. "The latest graduate - with honours - of the American hard-boiled school," he wrote, "...pacy and frightening." Whilst the late lamented John Coleman of the Sunday Times was probably the first UK critic to invoke that other key laureate of America's zanier byeways. "Rivals Carl Hiaasen at full tilt," he said. "Terrific entertainment."

Dead Man's Dance (1995), the second book to feature Quinn and Takemura, and Dead Silent (1996) were to follow. But it would be another three years before the remarkable Heartbreaker (1999), Ferrigno's first book for the US Pantheon imprint (mirrored by a UK change to Hutchinson/ Arrow) - and the first time under the editorship of the legendary Sonny Mehta, later President of the Knopf Publishing Group.

In an interview with J. Kingston Pierce of January magazine, Ferrigno has spoken about the "liberating" effect of working with Mehta. How has that relationship progressed? " I've done four books with Sonny," replies Ferrigno. " The first two he literally line edited with me, a very rare occurrence today and particularly from such a high calibre editor/publisher. I learned more about writing from Sonny than anyone else. The last two books have been more `conversationally edited' meaning we sit around and talk about the book as a whole and he tells me what he likes and what he wishes there was more of. It's been a great ride. I've always felt like the stand up comedian in the clubs who makes the band laugh. This is considered highly dangerous because the band are the hippest guys in the room so thre assumption is that if they're laughing, no one else gets the joke. I feel I don't have the number of readers I would like, but the fact that Sonny asked to work with me indicates somebody gets what I'm doing."

Completing the Ferrigno CV comes Flinch (2001) and Scavenger Hunt (2003), the two later books that feature Slap magazine, this time with film columnist and reviewer Jimmy Gage (flintily dismissing the latest "way-cool" serial killer movie in Flinch's opening chapter) together with a surprise reappearance from Jane Holt, the uptight policewoman (and an unlikely source of redemption for Danny Dimedici) from The Horse Latitudes.

Most of Ferrigno's books have been optioned by Hollywood producers, so far without success. He told January magazine about the time 20th Century Fox bought Heartbreaker and then decided they "thought the story was too much like Elmore Leonard's Out of Sight, which was another character-driven thriller. And I said, `That was made into an incredibly good film.' `Yeah,' his agent said, but it only made, like $11 million.' She told me that what Hollywood wants now are more movies like The Waterboy, with Adam Sandier, that can be cheaply produced and make $100 million. If that's the ideal, forget it." Have things changed, I ask? "The Wake Up is still up for consideration although the studios found it `too complex."' "Ah, Hollywood" sighs Fetrigno.

There is better news for him in the international publishing market however. The UK has, of course, picked up on each book as it became available. In addition Heartbreaker broke through in Japan some years back, Italy has picked up on The Horse Latitudes, whilst Russia has recently bought Scavenger Hunt. How is it going in the UK, I ask? "No complaints," Ferrigno replies. " I have a great publisher at Hutchinson/Arrow. She's bought up a lot of my back list and reissued everything. Couldn't be happier unless she brought me over to tour." (Hint, hint! BC)

*********

But wait, there's more. Scavenger Hunt and The Wake Up, I remark, are superbly plotted, a process presumably as sisted by the outlining process of which, "a couple of years ago" James Ellroy was an advocate. Has it solved many of Ferrigno's problems in this area, or does his previously established outline sometimes clash with the direction of the characters? " I use more of a story-board - as in film making," he explains. " This allows me lots of leeway, which I take full advantage of. I usually follow a promising lead or plot development even if it's not in the outline. If I wanted to follow a plan, I'd have chosen another career path." Any examples of things unplanned that came off really well? "Most of the bad guys in my books start out as stock characters and then take on a life of their own. Arturo and Vlad in The Wake Up were regulation bad guys, but then Arturo became a tough guy worried about his cholesterol and his stock portfolio and Vlad wanted to make enough money to buy his own amusement park. The best writing is always serendipitous. I trust my unconscious more than my conscious any day."

As I've indicated, I love his women characters, particularly Jane Holt in The Horse Latitudes, chat show host Cissy Mizell in Cheshire Moon, Jen Takamura (wherever she appears!) along with the seductive Kyle Abbott and Jackie Hendricks (mistress of the " Tijuana douche" !) in Heartbreaker. How do women respond to them? "Based on my book tours, it seems like at least half my readers are women. They seem to enjoy the fact that I have a variety of women in the books, all shapes sizes and colours, and they are as likely to be bad as good. Actually everybody likes the bad girls. Nothing like a tough beautiful bad girl who's smarter than the boys and has a dirty mouth too."

What about reviews - how does he react? Has he ever said "Yeah, I could do that better" ? "I've gotten some amazing e mails criticizing my work," he says, "Very well thought out letters by people who clearly have put a great deal of thought into their analysis. I read them all. Most book reviews are pretty superficial in the US. They usually quote extensively from the books, which I like, and say kind things, but you don't really get too much in the way of useful criticism."

It is now thirteen years since Ferrigno and his family moved from California to Seattle. He does not however intend to abandon California as a setting. How does he retain his feel for the place? " I still go back a few times a year to hang out with pals, (there are) book tours, and in some ways I've internalised southern California to the point where it's just part of my cellular structure."

And might Slap magazine, Quinn or Gage, not to mention Jane Holt and Jen Takemura return? "I get asked that a lot," says Ferrigno "and consider it a high compliment. I am acutely aware that they are out there, alive and well and probably up to no good. I would never say never."

Seattle will however play a big part in Ferrigno's next novel. "It's an alternate history," reveals Ferrigno, "set in Seattle 30 years in the future. It's a political thriller with the usual assortment of my bad guys and bad girls, just... different. Seattle in the here and now is a little too smug, a little too clean and a little too whitebread for my tastes as a fictional locale. The nice part about writing about Seattle in the future is I've managed to transform it into my own little private hell." He adds, "it is, honest to Jesus, the best thing I've ever written:"

Economic considerations aside, why is it still necessary to write, I ask him. "To clarify my thoughts and fears," he says, "to make sense of that which makes no sense, to hear word rhythms, to read a book that has never been read before." And by what criteria does he judge his own work? "What moves me," he replies, "what seems elegant and electric and most of all true."

We finish on another philosophical note. Which of his own books does he reckon Wittgenstein might most have enjoyed? "Heartbreaker," he replies, "Because it's a book with a nasty twist at the end, and the brainy guys always like being fooled."

Robert Ferrigno, it's been a great pleasure.

The Wake Up (2004)