Dark Dreamer: Dean R. Koontz

Interviewed by Stanley Wiater


In discussing this author, critic John Gilbert has stated: ''Who, amongst modern writers, can be in fantasy, horror, science fiction, romance and thriller genres all at the same time and yet be in none of them?''

The answer is Dean R. Koontz.

What do such best-selling authors as Leigh Nichols, Brian Coffey, Owen West, and K.R. Dwyer have in common?

The answer is Dean R. Koontz.

Once described by The Los Angeles Times as ''the least- known, best-selling author in America,'' Koontz has emerged as one of today's most respected and popular writers--after a twenty year bout with obscurity via genre paperback originals and from publishing much of his work using names other than his own. Pseudonyms such as Leigh Nichols, Owen West, K.R. Dwyer, and David Axton, to list only a few. (Koontz is in the process of bringing back into print, under his own name, the best of his pseudonymous work.)

An admitted workaholic, Koontz launched his career writing science fiction stories and novels in the mid-1960's. It was not until the 1980's, however, that he began to make his mark with a series of remarkable horror and dark-suspense novels which include Whispers, Phantoms, Darkfall, Strangers, Watchers, Lightning, Midnight, and his latest release, The Bad Place.

His immense popularity is indicated by the fact that, with Midnight (1989), he reached the number one spot on The New York Times hardcover best-seller list, based on sales during the book's first week in stores. His world-wide sales total more than fifty million copies. So far, motion pictures have been produced from three of his books: Shattered and Demon Seed in 1973, and Watchers in 1988 (which Koontz called ''hopelessly dreadful'') with several slated for production.

In his early forties, Koontz lives in southern California with his wife Gerda, whom he credits for ''invaluable emotional and intellectual support during the dark days'' of his career. He divides his time between writing 60 to 70 hours a week, and turning down requests from motion picture studios and publishers who wish he'd write even more. His office is a fantasy-come-true for most writers. One corner is composed of floor-to-ceiling shelves which contain one copy of every edition of the more than 50 books Koontz has written, totaling nearly 600 editions. He works at a magnificent, custom-made wooden desk, with every drawer designed to fit precisely his needs. Along the walls are advertising posters and framed originals of the cover artwork for several of his novels: ''I can look around and see that somebody does buy this stuff, and likes it. When things get really gloomy, or I can't think of the right word, this helps.''

A modest yet decidedly humorous man, Koontz has done more behind the scenes for other writers than he would ever be willing to admit. And in spite of the fact that he strongly dislikes the term ''horror'' used in conjunction with his work, he was the first president of the Horror Writers of America.

WIATER: For many years you employed a pseudonym for practically every other novel you wrote. Yet didn't the pseudonyms only hinder your becoming a recognized ''brand-name'' author?

KOONTZ: Sometimes there are legitimate reasons for using them. If your publisher wants you to have only one book a year under your name, yet you have the ability to write two, you might need a pen-name. But I also used them for the wrong reason, because of bad advice. I wrote in a wide range of styles, and I experimented with style, so I was told that every time I did something different from what I'd done before, I had to use a different name in order not to alienate or confuse the reader. After a while I figured out this wasn't true; readers will stay with an author, no matter what the variations in style and genre, as long as they get that sense of story, of character, of empathetic involvement that the work provides when it's functioning at its highest level. In fact I've learned that readers appreciate a writer who will risk fresh approaches, book after book--as long as the stretch the writer is making actually works.

I began to realize that all these books, which were being well reviewed under pen names, were doing absolutely nothing to build my name. Nobody knew those writers were me! If all the books had been published under one byline, and those good reviews had reflected upon me--not upon a motley group of pseudonyms--the reading public would have been aware of me far sooner. So I dropped all of them.

WIATER: Isn't it true that of your first three best-sellers, two of them were under pseudonyms? For example, your ''Leigh Nichols'' books sold well worldwide, and had a reputation of their own.

KOONTZ: You always risk the danger of your pen-name becoming more famous than your own. Two of my first three, million-seller paperbacks were under other names. And look at Evan Hunter. He's a wonderful novelist, but more people know ''Ed McBain'' than know Evan Hunter now. The first book I had on any best-seller list was The Key to Midnight by Leigh Nichols. And that was an unsettling event, because I couldn't go around in bookstores grabbing people and saying ''Hey, this Nichols is really me!'' [laughs] I'd look deranged! The second was Whispers, which was under my own name, but then the third was The Funhouse under the ''Owen West'' identity.

I now recommend that writers avoid pen names. If you have to pay the bills, and you write something you're not proud of, use a pen-name for that. But if you're proud of your books--as I was of those under many of my pseudonyms--put them out under your name and to hell with what the wisdom of the business is! Because if the books are written with care and passion, publishing them under other identities softens your impact. And if you want to publish two books a year under your own name and your publisher doesn't, maybe you need a different publisher.

WIATER: You began your career in science fiction, though you have no plans of reissuing the novels you wrote in that period between 1966 and 1972. But did you go into that genre because it was what you enjoyed writing at the time, or because you felt it was the easiest market to break into?

KOONTZ: Never, never try to scope the market. If you say, ''They want science fiction, so I'll write science fiction,'' or ''they want mysteries so I'll write mysteries,'' then you're doomed. You've got to write what you're passionate about. Otherwise you'll produce juiceless, flavorless fiction. I sold my first story when I was a senior in college, and to some extent I regret that I started selling so young. Because ''young'' and ''naive'' are two words which go together, as are ''young'' and "stupid''--at least in my case. [laughs] A lot of that early work is so poorly formed because I was inexperienced and floundering, but I was passionate, all right. Because I began that early, I was writing what I'd read as a kid, which was science fiction. It was my favorite form of fiction then, so I wrote it out of sheer love. But I eventually burnt out on it.

WIATER: What caused you to break away from this fairly rigid genre identification--for now a Koontz novel is not ''just'' a science fiction or a thriller or a horror novel, but a seamless melding of many diverse elements?

KOONTZ: Something clicked with me about 1974 or 1975 when I wrote Night Chills. I still had a love of fiction of the fantastic, and I began to blend certain SF and horror elements with the suspense novel.

WIATER: What elements exactly?

KOONTZ: Well, scientific extrapolation from SF. For example, Night Chills deals with possible new developments in mind control, and the plot of Watchers springs from genetic engineering. SF is in part a fiction of ideas, so I took that aspect of the genre for my blend. From horror I borrowed mood more than anything--that cold sense of foreboding, eeriness, ineffable but frightening presences at the periphery of vision, which is always a part of good horror writing. From the suspense genre I took a contemporary setting--all my books are set in the present or the past, never the far future--as well as headlong pace and tension; few SF novels and fewer horror novels are tense and swift-moving, so I felt that I'd really have something if I coupled SF's ideas with horror's mood in a story with a suspense novel's taut pace.

WIATER: Sounds easy enough! But seriously, did you set out to achieve this blend intentionally, or was it something you did unconsciously and noted in retrospect?

KOONTZ: A little of both. I was dissatisfied with the possibilities offered by any one genre, and I knew that I wanted to bring various genres together and knit them up into a mainstream novel, so some of my decisions were conscious and calculated. But creativity is as much an unconscious process, and many of the techniques and approaches I came up with were not obvious to me until I had been using them a while. You can't coldly calculate and plan a new style. All you can do is determine what you hope to achieve, then create the mental environment that will let art happen on deeper levels of consciousness.

Anyway, my current style and narrative approach were arrived at by evolution. I said earlier that I wish I hadn't begun publishing so young. But on the other hand, I wouldn't have become what I have become if I had undone those early years. After putting in time as a science fiction writer, with my imagination running wild, I was able to approach the suspense novel with a background that other suspense writers never had. Therefore my plots tended to be fresher--or at least stranger--than theirs. [laughs] More off the beaten path. For example, I can't think of another suspense writer who would come up with a plot like that in Midnight, which deals with the development of silicon microspheres that can be injected into the human body, there to link up and form a computer that actually overrides the brain in the interest of ''improving'' the species. The book doesn't have one spy in it, not one serial killer, not one of anything you expect to find in a traditional suspense novel, yet it is most certainly suspense.

WIATER: You've clearly made your point. So how would you best describe your own work?

KOONTZ: Back in 1974 or 1975, I coined the term ''cross-genre,'' and no one could figure what I was talking about, but now the term is getting wider usage. In my case this means the aforementioned melding of elements of mystery, suspense, science fiction, horror, adventure--even the love story. But most important to me is telling the tale from a mainstream point of view, with mainstream sensitivity.

WIATER: Yet you certainly had a viable genre reputation even before you broke through into the mainstream. Wouldn't it be advantageous for some new writers to establish a career by becoming closely associated with a particular genre, such as horror?

KOONTZ: It depends on what kind of writer you want to be; what you're going to be satisfied with. I'm not talking money now. I'm talking about the size of the audience that will satisfy you. Will you be happy with a small audience, a middle-size one? If you're really serious about your writing, and have a view to impart that you think is important, then you're never going to be satisfied with the size of the audience you'll get as a mid-list genre writer.

If, however, you'd be happy to make a comfortable--though at times uncertain--living with a medium-size genre audience, then you will approach your career totally differently. You'll write smaller, less complex books. They might be brilliant books, you understand, but they'll be different because you'll be seeking a different niche. The problem is that some people say they'd be happy with that, then they discover they aren't happy when they're stuck in such a career. I know many writers who have spent twenty years developing a fine genre reputation with which they are completely dissatisfied. They have done excellent, admirable work--and they're miserable. Now, after all these years, they're so typed, they can't escape the jail they've built for themselves. Publishers see them as writers with a limited audience, and they're never given the chance to do the broader work when they're ready for it.

It's wise to plan early on where you'd like to go, do serious self-analysis to determine what you want from a writing career. Now, I made the same mistake. When I began I thought I'd be comfortable as a straight genre writer. I just kept switching genres as my interests grew! I have since been fortunate that-- with a great deal of effort--I have been able to break the chains of genre labeling, and do larger and more complex books. But it's very difficult, and very few people who develop straight genre reputations ever escape them.

WIATER: But what do you say to someone who truly enjoys writing dark suspense or horror--how can they thrive in an established field and yet not be swallowed up by it?

KOONTZ: Let's say your primary area of interest is in suspense fiction. Then I think a new writer, starting out, should realize to a bigger career. If you're going to be a novelist, you might as well start out as Scott Turow and Tom Clancy did. They created something new within a form they loved. Clancy virtually single-handedly created a sub-genre of suspense; and whether or not you like his stuff, you should realize he guaranteed a place for himself in the history of popular fiction by writing something which didn't exist before him.

WIATER: But how do you form and explore these fresh ideas?

KOONTZ: There may be other ways, but I only know one. You have to read enormous amounts of material of all kinds; you have to be constantly feeding the subconscious, giving it material from which it can devise story ideas. First you must read nonfiction of all kinds, not just in areas that already interest you, but in a wide range of subjects. I regularly read books and magazines about the latest developments in genetics, physics, medical technology, forensic medicine, police technology and procedure, and much more. I read a daily newspaper, three Sunday newspapers, and scores of magazines every month. I never take notes, and I never consciously look for story ideas; it's a much subtler process than that. You pour the information into the subconscious, dump it all in like meat and vegetables into a stew pot, then let it cook until the ideas boil to the surface. They will boil up, I guarantee, and they'll be far better than the ones you arrive at by conscious manipulation of story elements, better because they're not forced.

Then you have to read fiction, too, lots of it, and not only in one or two genres. I read mysteries, suspense, science fiction, horror, Westerns, mainstream, everything. The more you read, the more you become aware of the techniques that are special to every genre, and the more you begin to see ways to meld the strengths of the genres into a whole that is, one hopes, more than the sum of its parts. Finally, you have to live a life of broad interests. You can't acquire the breadth of experience that makes for good writing if you spend most of your weekends at writer-fan conventions. Get out, get around. See and do!

WIATER: Do you ever need any trick to jump-start your creative engine?

KOONTZ: I love what I do, so I don't have to motivate myself. But here's one thing--there's a handful of writers whose influence on me has been greater than anyone else's. So I tend to keep their books nearby: John D. MacDonald, James M. Cain, Ray Bradbury, Dickens, several others. I'll sometimes start the morning by picking up one of their books, a particular favorite, and read a few paragraphs at random to appreciate the use of language. Writers I tend to use this way had a terrific sense of the language, and could write a sentence that really moved, that had a dazzling shine to it. I'll say, ''Damn, that's good!'' and it motivates me to want to do something that might approach the imagery and musicality of prose that I admire in them.

WIATER: Perhaps it can be safely assumed that some writers are following that very same pattern of inspiration with a favorite Dean R. Koontz novel?

KOONTZ: It'd be a lot of fun to think so.

WIATER: I'm aware of the amount of fan mail you receive, and how you do your utmost to respond to most of it. What is so special about fans to you?

KOONTZ: They are the concrete evidence that you touch people's lives. Like the guy who called me and said, ''Last year I had a leg amputated, and was in the hospital for that and related problems dealing with cancer for a period of several months. In the course of that time I lost my business, and my wife left me.'' And he told me, with his voice breaking, ''The only thing that got me through that year, and made me want to go on, were two books of yours, Strangers and Watchers. Which were scary novels, but were filled with so much hope, and so much faith in human beings, that by reading them repeatedly got me through times I don't know how I would have otherwise gotten through.''

That for me is what writing is all about. If something in your writing gives support to people in their lives, that's more than just entertainment--which is what we writers all struggle to do, to touch people. Entertainment is just a vehicle to reach them on a much deeper level.

Also, a woman wrote me and said, ''My father is dying of cancer. He is the most wonderful father anyone could have had, and he's only in his fifties, with six months to live. I'm not articulate enough to say all the things I want to say when I speak at his funeral. There's a long passage in Twilight Eyes about how what we really fear is not our own death, but the deaths of those we love. Would it be possible for me if I could read that at his funeral service and reprint it in the program?'' Man, you can't answer a letter like that fast enough!

Something you've written has clearly touched someone on a deep, personal level, and speaks directly to their lives. Those are the moments when you think you're doing something worthwhile.