Michael Connelly: Taking Crime Fiction to a new "Level" - An Interview by Bob Cornwell

Michael Connelly is tired. It is Sunday, the third and final day of Dead on Deansgate, the annual CWA crimefest in Manchester, where he has been the International Guest of Honour. Up half the night chatting with fans and fellow writers, he has found the relative intimacy of the small-scale Deansgate weekend more to his taste than its larger American equivalent. I too am tired. I also have been up half the night, then an early start to finish the most recent (1999) Connelly book, the superb Angel's Flight, subsequently shortlisted for this year's CWA Gold Dagger.
This morning Connelly has played to a packed room in the Sunday Guest of Honour slot. I am in the audience praying that Ian Rankin, Connelly's co-conversationalist, will not duplicate too many of the questions I have outlined in my notebook. A highlight of the subsequent packed signing session has been a meeting of Connelly, M with Every Dead Thing wunder-kind Connolly, J ("Did I get the spelling right?" asks Connelly, M).
When Connelly's first book The Black Echo (1992) was published, he was a reporter on the Los Angeles Times. The book introduced his major series character, police detective Heironymous (Harry) Bosch, so-called to give the character 'some kind of resonance right off the bat.' It won the Edgar that year for Best First Novel. There are now six Harry Bosch novels, including Angel's Flight, and Connelly's reputation and sales have soared to the point where he is a regular in the best-seller lists across the globe.
As has been his habit in recent years ('to keep the series fresh') his new book Void Moon is something rather different. Like The Poet (1996) and Blood Work (1998) before it, it does not feature Harry Bosch, and Las Vegas rather than LA is the background. And for the first time the main protagonist is a woman.
As we settle into the anteroom of Connelly's suite, I recall his one-time description of book tours and interviews as 'the scary part of my job.' Naturally reticent, and despite a hacking cough, he proves to be a lucid and thoughtful subject. We start by talking about Void Moon -and Cassie Black, its key character.
" I have obviously written about women before and being a writer I have a pretty large ego. So the women I've written about I've done pretty well, that's my opinion. So I thought it was time to move it up, to try to give the whole weight of the story to a female character." But the biggest departure "was to write a story which didn't have any police in it, that didn't rely on any kind of linear investigation or storyline to carry you through the book."
It is also "an underworld story. There are different levels or elements of criminality in it. This woman...is herself basically a criminal. I don't think that she is a bad criminal but how do you make a criminal sympathetic? One way, the easiest way, is to have an extremely bad individual after her, so she becomes the lesser of two evils. The second way is by making her extremely good at what she does. So there are a lot of scenes that show her skill, her preparation, the precision with which she carries out her crimes."
Connelly is understandably reluctant to give too much away but something else is new: "A couple of years ago I became a father for the first time, so that is something that I think has infiltrated my writing. So there is a lot about maternal/paternal instincts in this book. It's a lot about maternal responsibilities".
Michael Connelly was born in Philadelphia and grew up there and in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, the second of six children. His father was a builder, which explains Connelly's later appearance at the University of Florida as a student majoring in building construction. The more crucial influence however came courtesy of his mother, whose extensive library of crime novels formed a large part of the young Connelly's reading. I ask him if there were any English writers? "I was reading a lot of hand-me-downs from my mother, so a lot of that was English, standard writers like Agatha Christie and Conan Doyle."
His epiphany however, causing a dramatic switch from building major to one in journalism, is connected, not with Doyle or Christie or any of the other writers on his mother's shelves but with Raymond Chandler's The Long Goodbye. Not the book incidentally, at least, not at first, but the 1973 Leigh Brackett/ Robert Altman film version. He has described the event in the afterword he wrote for the recent Dennis MacMillan reissue of Brackett's 1944 novel No Good from a Corpse.
I ask him if the discrepancies between the two versions trouble him. "Altman plays with Marlowe's moral code. In the end he makes choices that the Marlowe we know from the books wouldn't make. That doesn't bother me. When you move from a book to a movie, it's good to change the story, to tell it in a different way. I had not even read any of Chandler's books when I saw the movie. Then I went back and thought this is a different character. It's still one of my favourite movies. Every now and then they show it as a double feature with Chinatown-and I usually go. Both these movies I really like and I guess they are part of my maturation as a writer."
Another perhaps surprising name that crops up in the Connelly biography is that of cult writer Harry Crews. Crews was a lecturer in creative writing at the University of Florida and gave Connelly "the single best piece of advice... really basic but he's the one who said it first to me and it is 'write every day.' If you write every day, you have to think about the story, so even if you end up with one sentence you have accomplished a good writing day because the story had to be alive in your head just to write that one sentence. It's something I live by."
After graduating, Connelly became a journalist, first in Daytona and then in Fort Lauderdale. On the latter's Sun-Sentinel he was a member of a team that interviewed survivors of the airplane disaster Delta Flight 191. The subsequent feature was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize in 1986 and led directly to his job on the Los Angeles Times.
Earlier, in the Rankin conversation, I have been intrigued by Connelly's statement that he fended off promotion so that he could stay on the street as a reporter. I ask him if by this point the ambition to become a crime writer was fully formed. "It wasn't that obvious. It was always a hope rather than a prayer. You know, like, some day I hope to do this, so I'm picking up on some of the details so that I can." Those 'details' inform and enrich the texture of every Connelly novel. Two of the early Bosch novels (The Black Echo, The Concrete Blonde, 1994) feature crimes known to Connelly as a journalist. His experiences interviewing survivors of Flight 191 fed into Blood Work. But the novel in which he most directly uses his experience is his most popular book, The Poet. Like some of its readers I have a problem with the credibility of its final twist, but one of the book's undoubted strengths is in the portrayal of the pressures, both public and personal, that go with the job of the book's key protagonist, journalist Jack McEvoy.
As well as Bosch and McEvoy, Connelly's books have featured as protagonists ex-FBI heart-transplant patient Terry McCaleb (Blood Work) and, in Void Moon, burglar (or 'hot prowler' in police parlance) Cassie Black. Does he have a favourite? "My favourite is probably always going to be Harry. There are aspects of the other characters that I like a lot. Probably my least favourite, and the one I am least likely to write about again is Jack McEvoy. As I've said before, he's just too like me. And it's hard to sustain a whole year of writing about yourself."
The breadth of Connelly's reading can be illustrated by the references scattered throughout the books to such varied writers as Chester Himes, James Lee Burke, Bill Moody and Seicho Matsumoto, to say nothing of Sun Tzu. In Blood Work, both Matsumoto's Inspector Imanishi Investigates and Moody's Death of a Tenor Man are (briefly) the subject of a conversation between 'beach bum' Buddy Lockridge and Terry McCaleb. This latter reference brings to mind Harry Bosch's love of jazz. Does this reflect his creator's own tastes? "Oh yes, but I get nervous when I'm asked that as I'm by no means skilled at jazz or knowing about it like, say, a John Harvey. So in the books if there is a mention of music, it's what I was playing when I was writing that."
And Matsumoto's Imanishi? "It was one I remember reading from the shelves of my house. I re-read it fairly recently. I liked the book particularly because of the way it showed the detective's life." That conversation in Blood Work cites both Moody and Matsumoto as examples of the 'reassuring' nature of crime fiction, ironic in view of Matsumoto's social, even political agenda. It's a thesis that Connelly has explored in The Mystery of Mystery Writing, a short article he wrote for the Walden Book Report in 1998. I put it to him that many details in his books suggest that he too likes to leave some questions in the mind of the reader. "Definitely." he replies. "I have trouble with the tradition of everything being tied up, when it is so unreflective of society. Coming from journalism and knowing that the cops in LA only clear two out of three murders and that means that many many murderers are walking the streets. It is hard, continually, every year, to write a story in which everyone gets caught. So I leave things open. The Poet was the main one left open. People think it's because I can do a sequel. But there will never be a sequel. I want, in my literary landscape, there to be at least one bad guy who never got caught. Void Moon has a bit of an open end also."
Essential to the 'act of reassurance' is the Chandleresque 'noble man or woman.' Sceptical of the validity of this idea in the more cynical present day, I ask him if he has met such individuals in real life. "Yeah I've found a few. In my years as a journalist, there were some detectives that I knew of that didn't put it away when they went home. To them, what they were doing was an all-consuming mission. I think that is the way it is with Harry. He almost feels that he is God's soldier, that he's been put down on this planet to do this. And that's why he makes compromises and basically does what he has to do, so that he can continue to be on this mission."
The serial killer has now featured as a major plot strand in several Connelly books, in particular The Poet. In a panel on this topic the previous day Connelly has indicated his current discomfort with the conventions. I ask him to expand on the thought. "The thing that bothers me about The Poet is not the serial killer thing. It's that there is split narrative in that book, so that in short segments I write from the point of view of the killer-a child killer. None of that is on the page-the killing and all that-it's more or less a psychological study. I have no problem with the book. I think it's a good book. A lot of people think it's my best and that's fine. I am very happy with that book. But you can read a book in a day, two days. But to write a book like that you have to be in that mind set for months. Now being a father, who in their right mind would want to spend a year trying to think of how a kid-killer thinks. It's really from a writer's standpoint, not a reader's, that I would not want to do that again."
Another key element of the Bosch books is Los Angeles as a place. How important was the Robert Towne/Roman Polanski 1974 film Chinatown in triggering that idea? "Chinatown is probably my favourite movie of all time, and I think it's a perfect grounding of a character in his place. I admire it so much for that. Yes, it is definitely as influential for me as the Chandler book. (That sense of place) is something I try to pull off with my Bosch novels."
The Bosch books have featured both the brush fires (The Black Ice, 1993) and occasional earthquakes (The Last Coyote, 1994) that bedevil the city, as well as the man-made plagues of drugs, pornography, racism and police corruption. What issues does he see coming over the horizon? "I'm not sure I can answer that. I am continually disappointed by what happens in Los Angeles, but I am also continually hopeful."
Has LA learned anything from its recent past? "Well you would think so and then something will happen. It probably hasn't hit the news here yet but another horrible horrible police scandal has erupted where a whole cadre of cops are now under arrest for killing drug dealers. Right out of the blue. I am obviously going to try to be topical, so I'm basically ready to react. On a wider scale, not just LA, I am continually fascinated by the Internet-whether there should be controls, and the crime aspects."
In Angel's Flight the Harry Bosch series has reached its highest point to date. For the first time Connelly has widened the canvas, explicitly embracing the city as a melting pot of racial tension and political intrigue, a society in which it becomes clear that its police force is a thin blue line between order and chaos. It is not surprising therefore that some policemen buckle under the strain. I instance the moving, superbly written scene between Bosch and his long term associate Frankie Sheehan, now under suspicion of beating up a suspect. Under questioning Sheehan finally reveals how he finally cracked and "became the very thing that I spent all these years hunting." But the stress of life in the low-wage, high unemployment ghettos produces similar faultlines in the black and Hispanic communities. I ask Connelly if he could write a similarly sympathetic scene featuring say, a black rioter. "There was some perspective from the black side in that book...that would obviously be a large challenge to me as a writer. It's definitely something I think about. I am probably intimidated by it because I'll be questioned on it. 'Do you even have the right?': because everything is so politically, racially and socially sensitive. In fact I got a lot of feedback on Angel's Flight from black readers that was both good and bad."
Time to broach what is perhaps another sensitive subject. Hollywood has optioned all of his books at some time or other. Indeed Connelly has dubbed his house in Laurel Canyon, Los Angeles 'the house Hollywood built'. Paramount has options on the Bosch series with Harrison Ford in mind for the role, and the script of The Black Echo by Ted Tally, the screenwriter of The Silence of the Lambs, has been seen-and approved-by Connelly.
No less than Clint Eastwood optioned Blood Work at a near-final draft stage and suggested changes to the tentative ending that Connelly had written at that point. But nearly two years later, the movie is still not in production. Was it a hint to the dilatory Eastwood that early in Angel's Flight Bosch spots a street ad for the forthcoming film of Blood Work? "First of all, I'm not really sensitive about any of it. Unfortunately I can't really give you any answers. I'm not really sure what is going on. On the Blood Work deal I have lesser involvement than any other deal."
Connelly has clearly learned his lessons however, for at the morning session he has revealed that a condition of the screen option on Void Moon is that Connelly himself gets to write the script's first draft.
We move on to talk about the Internet. The Internet's potential for both good and evil is already a sub-theme in a number of recent Connelly books. He has his own web site, run on his behalf by his sister Jane. Famously too, Connelly has intervened in the debate that ensued on the Amazon cyber-space bookshop website after many readers reacted unfavourably in on-line reviews to the ending of The Poet.
I ask him if the advent of the 'Net has fundamentally changed the relationship between writer and reader. He agrees, mentioning the popularity with readers of his own website. (Check it out at www.micha
elconnelly.com). But as regards on-line reviews, he regrets his intervention. "I've stopped looking at them. And I realise now that by replying, I only threw gas on the fire." There were 27 reader comments on the Amazon site at the point at which Connelly intervened; there are now 96, the most that a Connelly book has generated to date. But the Internet remains a key interest.
Indeed Connelly reveals that he has written the script for the pilot (now shooting) of a possible new television series under the title Level 9. This will dramatise the workings of a federal task force committed to the detection of and prevention of internet crime in such key areas as commerce, public safety, and national security, together with the tensions created when dealing with local enforcement agencies such as those in Connelly's key stamping ground, the LAPD. A major problem in the writing has been to maintain dramatic and visual interest in an area where much of the detection centres around a computer monitor.
Time is running out. Connelly's bags are piled near the door, ready for a quick exit. I close by asking him whether there has been any change in the status of The Last Coyote as his favourite book. "With every book, it's an essential part of the process that I arrive at a clear idea of what I want to achieve. So the answer to that question depends on how close to the goals I set myself I eventually came. I'm very happy with Angel's Flight."

 

Bob Cornwell