Q. You've written thirteen novels. Do you find writing difficult?
A. My maternal grandfather began his working life as a coal miner. Writing isn't coal mining.
Q. Do you ever suffer writer's block?
A. I don't believe in writer's block. I believe in a failure of concentration, and I suffer that plenty.
Q. What's your favorite simile?
A. "His face was as cold as a carving." I'm not sure whether I invented it or Raymond Chandler. Probably Chandler. Or is that a metaphor?
Q. What's the worst review you've ever received?
A. Though my first novel received excellent reviews, one newspaper called it "ludicrous twaddle."
Q. That must've hurt.
A. Nah, no more, say, than getting an ice pick in my eye
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Q. Anything about monkeys?
A. The weirdest thing that ever happened to me researching a novel occurred in a Thailand forest, when a monkey jumped from a tree onto my back. Suddenly and without warning. I'm not talking about one of those cute little chimps wearing a diaper from the Ed Sullivan Show. This animal weighed fifty pounds, and had mustard yellow, mangy hair and green teeth and villainous hazel eyes. He gave me a big hug. This was fun for about one second, until I tried to put some air between me and that critter. But he clung to me like a life ring. I grabbed two of his paws to peel him away, but he still had two feet and a tail connected to me. So I released a paw and grabbed one of his feet, but he was still glued to me with three appendages. And all the while this simian face--knobby and leering, full of deep nostrils and bad teeth and a juicy rolling tongue, resembling the Wicked Witch of the West--was squarely in front of me, its fangs bared, exhaling a rotten odor that chased away all the good air. I don't know how long this struggle lasted, but eventually a man stepped from behind the tree. The fellow was wearing a singlet, shorts, and a knowing smile. Then I had one of those awful instants of total revelation. I asked wearily, "How much?" He replied, "Five dollars." The monkey let me reach for my wallet, of course. When I handed over the money, the animal leaped off me to its owner. I went back to the hotel and took a shower, poorer but wiser.
Q. Looks like we are out of time.
A. Well, that is a pity.
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