A Conversation with Thomas Tessier (1998)

SWConsidering you’re an American author, Fog Heart is written in a style which would fool the uninformed reader into thinking it had to be written by a Brit.

TTIf you’re saying that the British characters in the book are convincing, I’m glad to hear it. But there are also American, Irish and German characters, and I would hope they’re also convincing. I don’t think there’s any generic British or American style anymore, and I sure wasn’t trying to fool anyone. But I did live in Dublin and London for thirteen years, so some Irish and English phraseology and diction are bound to be a part of my voice.

SWYou’ve stated elsewhere that Fog Heart was partially inspired by a true crime incident in England. How so?

TTHenry James used to talk about the fact that somebody only had to relate to him a bit of an incident, or he would hear something over dinner, and then he would spin it out into something else entirely. Not really wanting to know too many details about the actual event. Probably a lot of writers do that, whether they’re aware of it or not; they hear something, and it can set something off in their subconscious that later surfaces in a really different form. But, as I said about Fog Heart, there is a part of that story that is based on the Mary Bell murder case in Newcastle, England, back in the Sixties. I always had it in mind that there was something really fascinating about that case, and I wanted to try and do something with it.

But my experience has been when I sit down and try to work out how I want to do something like that, it never really comes to anything. And eventually, some little germ from that original incident grows into something very different. It still can be traced to the real story, but is very much smaller, and a really insignificant, part of Fog Heart.

SWIf you had to recommend only two of your novels to a first time reader, which ones would they be, and why those two?

TTRapture and Fog Heart, because between the two of them they show me working both sides of the Gothic street. Rapture has no supernatural elements in it, the terrors are all real, everyday, human. And obsessive doomed love is a favorite subject for me, one of the great themes in Gothic literature. Fog Heart, on the other hand, is full of ghosts and the paranormal, the torment of never knowing for sure what is real and what isn’t, as well as purely human evil. Rapture and Fog Heart pretty much cover my little patch of ground.

SWFor various reasons (perverse wish fulfillment not among them), Rapture is a personal favorite of ours, too. Can you tell us how this tale of an old boyfriend who will stop at nothing—not even murder—to win back his high school sweetheart came about?

TTThere’s an opening scene in Rapture where he goes past the house that this girl he knew in high school used to live in. And something like that actually happened to me—there was a “For Sale” sign out front and I just started wondering, “Whatever happened to her?” In the way anyone would wonder whatever happened to a lot of friends that you grew up with in school. I became interested in what would happen to a character who would try and go back and rediscover something about himself, through another person.

SWOf all your novels, it’s the one which seems most effortlessly written.

TTWell, that’s all there really is to it, in terms of the way the book started. I probably had an easier time writing that than any book I’ve done. And part of that was coming off the writing of Finishing Touches, which was a difficult book to write. Rapture seemed like such a complete change; from such a dark book to a somehow slightly “lighter” environment.

SWRapture was later made into a feature film. Did you have any part in its production? Did the movie version bring you more pain than pleasure?

TTI had nothing to do with it. I’m glad it was made, and it’s not terribly unfaithful to the book, but it really doesn’t give me any pleasure or pain. It struck me as a typical piece of product, with no special inspiration or punch. As my for other books, Finishing Touches is the only one that keeps being optioned, usually by different people who soon find that they don’t know what to do with its gruesomeness and intensity. I think it’ll end up defying everybody.

SWIf one were to note the dedication pages on certain novels, you appear to be an old friend of Peter Straub’s. Can you tell us if the two of you have ever shared notes as authors of horror novels and psychological thrillers? What do you think of his work?

TTPeter and I are indeed longtime very close friends. Over the years we’ve talked many many times, often long into the night, about the kind of books we write—though our writing is really very different in style, technique and design. I love his work, I think it’s the best we’ve had in the Gothic since Shirley Jackson and Robert Aickman.

SWDo you ever put any of your own personal fears or phobias into your work? Can you give an example if this is so?

TTI really don’t have much in the way of bothersome phobias, aside from an aversion to heights that makes cleaning the roof gutters every Fall an adventure. But real fears are deeper and more varied, and we all have them. In some way everything I write is about fear—of being alone, of pain and loss of identity and death. But I don’t know how to analyze any of that, and if I did I probably wouldn’t need to write.

SWWe’re forever curious: what’s a typical “day at the office” for you like?

TTOut of both habit and inclination, I write at night. Usually it will be from nine or ten until two or three in the morning, though it begins to run longer as a book progresses and gains momentum. I sleep late in the morning, during the afternoon I edit and revise what I wrote the night before, and I nap for an hour or two after dinner. Then it’s on again. This is really not a life I’d recommend to anyone!

SWYour fiction has been highly praised by your contemporaries throughout your career. Yet when you began your writing career, what authors or books inspired you to write “dark fiction” rather than say, courtroom dramas or comedies?

TT“Dark fiction” felt natural and right to me from the start. It’s got a special relevance to our times and it obviously suits some inner need in me as a writer. I don’t think I could ever switch genres to courtroom dramas, techno-thrillers or whatever else might happen to be hot in the marketplace. I wouldn’t be any good at that. A jazz player can’t switch to Country & Western or heavy metal. As for books and writers that inspired me, I’ve read and loved this field since I was a kid. Poe was an early favorite.

When I was about 12 I found The Supernatural Omnibus at the local library. Later, I fell in love with surreal and expressionist drama, and the Theatre of the Absurd, all of which are remarkably close to Gothic horror in crucial ways. I was also very fond of writers like Ballard and Dick, and there again the closeness is not hard to see.

SWDo you begin a novel with a character in mind, or is it the overall situation that inspires you?

TTIt varies from book to book. I have characters and situations in mind all the time, and eventually they tend to find each other in what are hopefully the right combinations—and from that a basic story emerges.

SWHave you ever written anything that actually frightened you after you were done?

TTNot that really frightened me, but Finishing Touches was such an intense and very disturbing experience that for some time afterward I thought, “I might not be able to do this anymore.” It was as if I’d worked my way into a tunnel and couldn’t turn back, but really didn’t want to go ahead either. It seems funny now, but turning to Rapture was almost a relief!

SWAmerican readers may not be aware that your 1982 thriller, Shockwaves, was actually packaged as part of a brief series called Nightshades: The Darker Side of Love when first published in England. It was aptly described on the back cover as “The creeping power of obsession. A twisted tale of fate.”

TTThat was the one novel of mine that was actually commissioned. I was presented with a rough outline with certain plot elements that I could hang the book around—if I wanted to—and I did that. It’s funny how many people have told me that they enjoyed it—which is a bit perplexing, because I’m not very fond of it myself!

SWFor what reasons? It’s certainly equal to your other novels in the effort you put into it.

TTWell, I didn’t give the publishers what they wanted ... maybe because it doesn’t work its way at all towards any “upbeat” or “positive” ending.

SW(laughs) Right—as if any of your other novels do!

TTRight. (laughs) But I think that’s what the publishers had in mind when they conceived that little series. I think the reason I did it was because I had just finished The Nightwalker at that time, and I didn’t have anything else immediately in mind. And it seemed like a good work-a-day exercise for me to try and do it; to see if I could do something with it, and make it in some way my own. And maybe I did do that to some extent. There was also another pretty good writer in that series by the name of Rosalind Ashe, and the fact that she was going into it also helped persuade me.

SWWhy was your very first novel, The Fates, originally published only in England?

TTI was living in London at the time, and my agent is English, so the UK market was the natural first step. Since then, all of my books have been sold there first.

SWThen have you ever changed or rewritten your work for American editions versus the British editions?

TTNo, neither titles nor text.

SWYou’ve also written some memorable short stories over the years. Are they more or less of a challenge to have an effect on the reader than a novel?

TTGood short stories are very difficult but the challenge is irresistible. Part of that challenge is to avoid becoming merely facile at producing stories that are just anecdotes leading up to clever or tricky twists. The best short fiction has the resonance and power of a very good poem or novel, and it’s not easy to achieve that in ten or twenty pages. I have a hard time with short stories but I love the form, it’s very seductive.

SWCan we hope for a collection of your stories anytime soon?

TTI did spend quite a while trying to put one together to my own satisfaction, and had discussions with people about publishing it. But I write a few new stories every year, and I tend to get less convinced—or less happy—with some of the older stories. It’s really still me just wrestling with how I would put together a collection. There will be one, sooner or later. But there’s nothing on the immediate horizon in terms of a book.

SWYou’ve been labeled a writer of “adult horror” or “serious horror” throughout your career. How accurately do you feel that describes your work?

TTI really don’t have any feelings, one way or the other, about it because there are a lot of different labels that people use to describe my work. If somebody finds them useful, good for them—but they don’t really mean anything to me. Whether it’s called “dark suspense” or “horror” or “adult horror,” I just think this whole field of writing is part of the Gothic tradition. “Gothic” itself is a word which has been so abused and misused that now people tend to associate it with a (supposedly) suspenseful romantic novel usually written by (and for) women. Then there’s the label “The New Gothic,” which is an attempt to win back the legitimacy of the term, which is fine with me.

But you can’t write with labels in mind. I just can’t worry about which particular label at the moment somebody is using to describe my work.

SWGiven then the recent backlash against the general label of “horror” by most major publishers, is it still possible for a new writer to break into the field successfully?

TTMy impression is that editors have concluded that there is only so much to the horror/dark fiction market. So it’s very difficult to introduce new people into it and make them a “commercially viable” prospect. It’s safer for them to go with what they’ve got. But I think it’s more of an assessment that the market is limited, and small, and not reliable in the sense that, over the years, the science fiction market has been reliable—even though it’s had its ups and downs—and publishers can live with it and make it work. I’m not sure they’re used to dark fiction in the same way.

But I do think there is a positive side to the hammering in the marketplace that dark fiction has taken in recent years. And that is, it’s forced those writers who are going to stay in that field to think more, and work harder, on the quality of their work. Rather than the simple quantity or productivity of it.

Because good books in the field do still get published. I just read a marvelous second novel by Robert Giradi called Valporette 13, which is a wonderful ghost story and a superb piece of writing. So yes, part of it is how the books are presented, and who the editors are, and who the publishers are (and the marketplace in general), but in the long run I think it’s going to have good effects. Obviously the field of Gothic horror is not going to go away.

SWFinally, what advice do you have for someone wishing to write dark fiction as a career?

TTI’m the last person to ask! If it’s a career you want, start at A and see if you can find something useful and rewarding before you get to W. If you must write, always take the writing seriously—never yourself.