THE MAN WHO DREW STRAWS:

AN INTERVIEW WITH MICHAEL MARSHALL SMITH

 

 

Michael Marshall Smith wrote his first short story “The Man Who Drew Cats” in 1990 and subsequently won the British Fantasy Awards for Best Short Story and Best Newcomer. The sci-fi noir novels One of Us, Spares and Only Forward followed confirming Smith’s position as one of the most exciting new writers to come along in years. Then came The Straw Men, under the truncated byline of Michael Marshall, complete with a cover quote by Stephen King and rave reviews. This month sees the release of its sequel The Upright Man.

 

KPB: First off Michael, congratulations on the well-deserved success of The Straw Men. It must be a pretty good feeling to have written a more ‘mainstream’ novel and have it do so well. While it does share the noir-ish feel of your previous efforts, did you worry that the jump in genres would alienate some of your fans?

 

I did worry about that - and it has alienated a small proportion of readers - but I knew it was most important that I do what I felt like doing. I’m the person who has to spend seven months every year writing the damned things! The truth of it is that I didn’t originally intend The Straw Men to wind up in such markedly different territory. The first draft was more of a dark fantasy, perhaps, with the third act heading in some much less ‘realistic’ directions. Sadly, it just didn’t work – and when I’d fixed it, and taken the book where it was meant to go, I realized I had made quite a genre leap after all. That’s the way it was meant to be. Somehow, in the middle of the night, I’d ended up moving somewhere else. The reason the first draft didn’t work was because I was trying to keep a foot in a camp where I wasn’t living any more.

 

For the time being, I’m happy where I now find myself. The ideas of the first three novels only made most sense when set in the future. The ideas I’m dealing with now make most sense set in the present day. Those two sets of notions have come from the same head, and the results, to my mind, aren’t actually so different. Genre is a tricky thing, and not something I’ve ever been very good at sticking to. A lot of the sf readers don’t know the sixty or so short stories I’ve written, only three or four of which are set in the future. Many of the horror story readers are put off by the first three novels, precisely because they’re set in the future. Some of both don’t like the thrillers, because they think I’ve somehow sold out or joined a boring genre. So far as I’m concerned, it’s all the same – because it was the same me who wrote them, and the same fingers that typed the words, trying to say similar things about the world, in a not dissimilar voice.

 

Having said which, I guess I’d feel pretty alienated if Stephen King started writing romantic fiction, but thankfully he’s shown no sign of doing so...

 

KPB: Did you write The Straw Men intending it to be a one-off, or was the initial idea broader than you could comfortably contain within the pages of a single book?

 

It was a one-off. I wanted to take a side-step from the previous three novels — not necessarily a permanent change in direction, but just something a little different. I’d been interested in the phenomenon of serial murder for well over a decade, had some pet theories about it, and felt it might be time to get the subject out of my system. So I started the book. The writing was interrupted by a couple of screenplay commitments that took far longer than they were supposed to. By the time I’d finished the novel’s second draft, a lot of ‘outside world time’ had passed, and the thoughts and ideas that had taken up residence in my head suggested that I could find more to do in the realm of The Straw Men. The more I worked on the second novel, the more I realized this was true.

 

Some people are good are planning out their own paths and futures. I’m not. I tend to just end up doing what I’m doing, and have to try to trust the idea that – somewhere in my head – someone knows what they’re doing.

 

KPB: Without spoiling it for those who haven’t read it, I mentioned to you in an e-mail after reading The Straw Men that I was infuriated at your decision to kill off a certain character in the book. Can you assure me you won’t do something similar in The Upright Man? Because I’m telling you, I don’t need that kind of heartbreak in my life.

 

I know the character you mean, and God, I miss him too. I spent quite some days at various points in the writing of The Upright Man thinking. ‘If only I hadn’t killed...’ I was genuinely amazed by the depth of feeling over it, too: a good friend of mine spent an entire evening giving me an unbelievably hard time about it! So... I’m sorry. I really am. But I can’t promise too much on the subject, because ultimately these books are about death, and death is no respecter of us and those who we care about.

 

KPB: You’ve spoken in the past about the ‘dreaded second novel’ – something that can ultimately defeat a writer and see them dropping off the face of the earth after a particularly successful debut. Despite his alter ego having a few well-received novels under his belt, did Michael Marshall find himself  suffering Second Novel Syndrome after the success of the first?

 

Yes. It was like starting again: especially as I hadn’t set myself up for a sequel - and also because The Straw Men had gone out and sold ten times what the previous novel had, which somewhat increased the stakes. After writing ‘non-real’ stuff for well over a decade (by which I mean stuff where I was mandated to play with reality how I liked) I suddenly found that I was now locked to planet Earth, and had to (more-or-less) play by everyone else’s rules – including a bunch I seemed to have made up for myself. It took me a while to settle into this, but once I was there, I found I was really enjoying revisiting the characters, finding ways to expand and deepen the original idea.

 

KPB: What does our hero Ward Hopkins (from The Straw Men) find himself up against this time around?

 

Well, I’m not going to tell you much, but let’s just say he finds out a lot more about the forces he’s up against – both now and in the past – that some of the characters are ploughing their own dark furrows, and that this novel does perhaps take a step closer to where I believe I’ll be going after this series is finished.

 

KPB: Are there plans for a third novel?

 

I’m just starting the third and – I believe - final novel now. I loved inventing the three different worlds of the first three novels: right now I’m enjoying going back into one world in particular, and finding out what’s happened in the meantime. Kind of ‘Oh, hi. You guys are back. So... what have you been up to? Come on, just tell me. Don’t make me find out for myself...’

 

KPB: What about novels under your own name? Anything on the horizon?

 

Michael Marshall is my own name now. It’s a shame it’s different to the name that I wrote the other novels under – and still write short stories under – but it’s still me. They’re both my names. The difference is more a reflection of publishing practice – and the buying habits of the public – than of any schism in my own head. Sometimes I really miss the tone of the earlier books, and I would like to write something zanier and stranger at some stage, and it would make sense for that to have a ‘Smith’ on the cover, but I’ll have to see how the time works out... With the Marshall/Smith distinction I theoretically have the freedom to write a variety of stuff, without fans of either feeling they’ve been sold a pup. But I don’t find novel writing so easy that I’m going to be popping out two a year anytime soon. One set of deadlines is enough. I also think you have to be aware of where your interests lie at a particular time, and try to be true to them.

 

I do have a folder of ‘Michael Marshall Smith’ ideas on my hard disk, so maybe it will happen. The ultimate for me, though, would be to write books which cover all bases of the two names, and yet somehow remain commercially viable... hey, I can dream.

 

KPB: I’m sure you’re tired of being quizzed about the status of Spares as a motion picture, so I won’t ask, but I do remember talking to you a few months back and finding you immersed in screenwriting. Anything exciting in the pipeline?

 

The exciting thing, so far as I’m concerned, is that I’ve now given up screenwriting. I had quite a lot of fun with it for ten years, but in the end it got to the stage where it was taking up FAR too much of my time and giving me back nothing but money. After the THIRD episode of being stiffed (and thus not even getting all the money), I realized it just wasn’t contributing enough of value to my life – and was at the same time making me stressed and constantly late for novel deadlines. Maybe I’ll go back to it at some stage, but at the grand old age of thirty eight, I’m actually kind of past it – which tells you all you need to know about that industry right there.

 

The news on Spares is that it’s been optioned by Paramount, and they’re recruiting a writer. There’s also an option out on six of the short stories – which have been very well adapted for television by the English writer/director Julian Simpson – so who knows...

 

KPB: I have to ask: How are the cats?

 

They’re very well, thank you. The advantage of living with a writer, from a cat’s point of view, is that you’re guaranteed the lap of someone who sits very still, and very quietly, for very long periods... but who once in a while will leap to his feet and stomp about the room bellowing ‘Oh for the love of Christ, what does happen next?’

 

KPB: Thanks for taking the time to speak with me, Michael and the very best of luck to you in the future!

 

A pleasure – and thank you!

 

 


This interview originally appeared in Subterranean Press Newsletter