William Kent Krueger stopped by In Reference to Murder last year to talk about what was then his new book, Ordinary Grace. That book has since gone on to win the Edgar Award for Best Novel, Midwest Booksellers Choice Award for Best Fiction, Dilys Award, Left Coast Crime "Squid" Award for Best Mystery Set Within the United States, and is also nominated for the Goodreads Choice Award, Barrys, and Anthonys. So I thought it fitting to repost Krueger's Q&A about his writing and this extraordinary book:
Bestselling author William Kent Krueger's novels have won the Minnesota Book Award, Friends of America Writers Prize, Barry Award, Dilys Award and back-to-back Anthony Awards for best novel, among other honors. Although known primarily for his novels featuring part-Ojibwe, part-Irish Cork O'Connor, a former Chicago cop turned private investigator living in the backwoods of Minnesota, Krueger's latest novel, Ordinary Grace, is a departure for him.
Krueger notes it's a different story from any in the Cork O'Connor series, focused on creating a particular time (the summer of 1961) and a particular small town deep in the heart of the Minnesota River valley that allowed him to examine memories, emotions and themes arising from his own adolescence.
Ordinary Grace has its official release today, and in honor of the book launch, Krueger stopped by In Reference to Murder for some Q&A:
IRTM: You've described Ordinary Grace as really the story of what tragedy does to a man's faith, his family and ultimately, the whole fabric of the small town in which he lives. You also noted it was inspired in part by memories and emotions arising from your own adolescence and uses themes important to you through the years. How much of this book is fiction and how much is a window into your own soul?
WKK: “A window into my own soul” may be a bit strong, but it’s certainly a story for which I mined a good deal of memories, emotions, and experiences from my own adolescence. One of the initial seeds for Ordinary Grace was the desire to recreate a time and place that I knew well. I spent a lot of my formative years living either on farms or in small towns, and I wanted to capture—for myself and, I’m hoping, for readers—the essence of those years. For a boy, thirteen is an important age. It’s a threshold. You stand with one foot in childhood and the other poised to step into manhood, and because of the confusion, the constant assessing of who you are and wonderment about who you are becoming, what happens in that time stays with you in a dramatic way. That’s what I wanted at the heart of the story.
IRTM:You've said the story for Ordinary Grace haunted you for a few years, and it was the most amazing period of writing you've ever experienced. What was your favorite part of the book to write?
WKK: There are so many scenes I love in this book. But maybe my absolute favorite is the post-funeral scene in which the title—Ordinary Grace—takes on a very specific and special meaning in the story. Another favorite is the scene at the quarry in which Frank, the story’s thirteen-year-old narrator, gets into it with an older, bigger, meaner kid named Morris Engdahl. It’s a scene full of conflict and comedy and, because of the presence of a stunning young woman in a revealing bathing suit, rife with sexual tension as well. I love the fact that Frank acts from his gut, without particular regard for the consequences, and I love the result. Overall, perhaps, what I liked best was creating the tight relationship between Frank and his younger brother Jake. A lot of love is exchanged there.
IRTM: Marilyn Stasio, writing for the New York Times, said that "For someone who writes such muscular prose, Krueger has a light touch that humanizes his characters." Muscular prose is a phrase often associated with Hemingway, who happens to be one of your writing influences. Do you feel that some of Hemingway's literary genes have become part of your writing DNA?
WKK: In my early years, I used to try to write like Papa Hemingway. Eventually I realized how pointless that was, turned away from struggling to write the great American novel, and embraced the mystery genre. I hoped I might finally write something that a publisher would buy and readers would enjoy. Best decision ever. But I didn’t abandon Hemingway completely. Trying to write like a master taught me the power of language, and always, when I write, it’s with an understanding that words, rhythm, cadence matter in a good piece of writing. Honestly, I’ve never been certain what was meant by “muscular prose.”
IRTM: In researching your other books, you've studied the Ojibwe and Arapaho, you've traveled to remote locations, interviewed various primary sources such as people in involved with the Secret Service, hospitals, the military, psychology, weapons technology. Was there anything new or unusual you had to research for the writing of Ordinary Grace?
WKK: In my very early thinking, I considered having Frank’s father, Nathan Drum, be a high school English teacher in a small town, because that was my father. But because I also wanted to deal with the larger question of the spiritual journey, a minister seemed a better choice. Growing up, I knew a number of PKs (preacher’s kids), but what it means to be a minister in a small community was completely outside my own experience. I’m fortunate to know a couple of retired Methodist ministers, so I spent a good long time talking to both of them about their own time as ministers in rural Minnesota. Fascinating material, and I’m sure their insights helped breathe life into Nathan Drum.
IRTM: What does your writing process look like? Do you aim for daily or weekly word counts? And how are you and Cork and your other characters handling the move from the St. Clair Broiler coffee shop? Any withdrawal symptoms?
WKK: Unless I have a deadline looming, I try to be relaxed in what I expect from any writing session. That said, I’m very disciplined in my approach. I write every day, twice. The first round begins in a local coffee shop about 6:00 A.M. and lasts for a couple of hours. Then I return to the coffee shop in the afternoon for another couple of hours. This used to take place at the St. Clair Broiler, a Saint Paul landmark café. I wrote there for a good twenty years. For reasons I won’t go into, we parted ways a while back, but it was an amicable separation. No withdrawal symptoms, but a lot of wonderful memories of my time in booth #4.
IRTM: Have you written a book (or short story) you love that you haven't been able to get published?
WKK: The manuscript that preceded Iron Lake (my first published novel and the first in the Cork O’Connor series) was a horribly written piece of work. It was called The Demon Hunter and was about the ultimate battle between good and evil fought, I kid you not, in the cornfields of Nebraska. I still like the story—go figure—and someday, if I have the time, I might return to that piece to see if I can do it justice.
IRTM: Are there certain characters you'd like to revisit, or is there a new theme or idea you'd love to work with?
WKK: I’m at work on a second novel set in southern Minnesota, titled This Tender Land. Although still in its infancy, the story, when fleshed out, should deal with how we shape the land in which we live and how the land, in turn, shapes us. It’s about those things we love enough to die for and love enough to kill for. I like the fact that it’s another novel set in the agrarian southern part of our state, which has a beauty very different but no less remarkable than the great north woods I write about in the Cork O’Connor series.
IRTM: Every writer has to deal with rejection at some point. What was the toughest criticism you've been given as an author, and alternatively, what was the best compliment?
WKK: The toughest criticism early on was from an agent who’d asked to read that first manuscript of mine, The Demon Hunter. She told me it was one of the worst pieces of fiction she’d ever read. Though she tried to be gentle, her reaction devastated me. Of course, she was right, and I learned a great deal from the experience. As for compliments, one of the best I ever got came from my son. He was pretty young when Iron Lake came out, and I wasn’t certain if he really understood what all the hoopla was about. Then one day, as I was chauffeuring him somewhere, from the backseat of our car he said simply, “Dad, I’m really proud of you.” Made me cry.
IRTM: Last year, you and three other authors (John Connolly, Liza Marklund, MJ Rose) embarked on the Atria Great Mystery Bus Tour. What was the highlight and "lowlight" of the tour and do you think you'd do it again?
WKK: Without a doubt, the highlight was the company on the bus. John and Liza and MJ and all the folks who accompanied us were great, entertaining companions. The low point was when the toilet on the bus plugged up. Don’t get me started on that one.
IRTM: Although Ordinary Grace is a standalone novel, Cork O'Connor fans will be thrilled to know the thirteenth book in the series, Tamarack County, is scheduled for release in August 2013. Can you tell us about that and the further adventures of the O'Connor clan?
WKK: Tamarack County was inspired by a true event. A couple of years ago, I read a newspaper account of man who’d been convicted of murder and sent to death row, where he spent nearly twenty years. Then a group who takes on the cases of these kinds of individuals to be certain that justice has been done began looking into his situation. In the course of their investigation, they discovered that, at the time of this man’s trial, the prosecution had in its possession information that basically proved his innocence, but they never shared this information with the defense. On being released from prison, the man said he wasn’t bitter about all those years he’d spent behind bars. His only wish was that those who’d put him there knowing he was innocent would somehow have to pay for their trespass of justice.
Which got me to thinking. What if an Ojibwe in Tamarack County, Minnesota, was convicted of murder and spent many years in jail. And what if information eventually comes to light proving his innocence, information the prosecution had at the time of trial but never shared. And what if, as soon as this situation becomes public, the people responsible for the man’s unjust incarceration—the judge, the prosecutor, the law enforcement officers—begin to be murdered. And what if it was Cork O’Connor who’d headed up the investigation that put the man behind bars. So Cork is in the cross hairs.
IRTM: And finally: lutefisk or Minnesota hotdish?
WKK: Although I consider myself Minnesotan, I’ve never tasted lutefisk. But top anything with tater tots and it becomes Minnesota hotdish, and what’s not to love?
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