MWSC: Right here right now, I feel just kind of . . . building up . . . knowing everything the English major needs to know, except like who writes. And I haven't really tried my hand at writing, because I've been studying Literature . . .

HM: Let me try to be quite clear here because the terms are so different between England and America. I don't know what a "major" and a "minor" are. I don't know, so . . . in our terms where are you now?

MWSC: A major means your bachelor's degree, like a Bachelor of Arts.

HM: Oh, so you've got a degree?

MWSC: Yes, I have a degree . . . Well I will at the end of this course.

HM: Right.

MWSC: Or so she says . . . (laughter).

MWSC: I'll write the paper on it. Then and I go on from there and I will work on my MA. Since I did my general studies first, I've been studying different facets of literature.

HM: Right, like what . . . ?

MWSC: You know, British Literature broken up into two different semester courses. American literature the same. And then different parts of 18th century British Literature. I took a Jane Austen class, things like that.

HM: Right, that's what you've done till now, and what about you?

MWSC: I'm still a student. I graduate in the spring. I have jobs though, odd jobs . . . this and that . . .

MWSC: I don't really consider those jobs, those are just kind of "I eat therefore I . . ." (laughter) . . . .

MWSC: I thought that if I study literature, I have to be able to know how to write.

HM: Why?

MWSC: You know you read a book, you take it apart, you analyze the pieces, you put together an argument for whatever you want someone else to come away with. I can do that kind of writing, and I've taken some poetry classes, but I haven't really tried my hand at writing, and I'm just curious . . . .

HM: Well, what are you curious about?

MWSC: How is it that you decided to write? You say you don't know when you became an novelist . . . so when was the first time you were able to support yourself by writing? Was it a surprise to you?

HM: What? That I could write?

MWSC: No, that you could switch over. Was it always something you wanted to do?

HM: No, you often read these things where people are asked, "Did you always want to be a writer?" No, I certainly didn't. It didn't ever cross my mind, I can't pretend that it did. I came to New College here at Oxford, and I never really thought about what I could do. I never thought about it. I certainly wasn't writing stuff. I wasn't secretly writing stories and training myself to become a writer. I've never had a writing class in my life. So, I wasn't planning on that, and I got to the end of my degree here, like you've just got to the end of yours, or you're coming to the end of yours, or your equivalent-- I just thought, God I need some money now, so I applied to join an advertising agency and they took me on, so I went to London to do that.

MWSC: Did you abandon your creative side?

HM: No. You see I didn't have any kind of creative drive. I didn't have the feeling that I could create anything . . . .

MWSC: What kind of advertising was it? Was it television, magazine . . . ?

HM: Yeah, television, press, point of sale, whatever. I was an account executive, where you're sort of liaising between the creative people and the client. I was, you know, a young man in a suit, trying to cover up for one side and explain things for the other side. It was an exciting world. I was working with cider, and sliced bread and petrol. The petrol was point of sale stuff - one free film for every 5 gallons you buy!" That kind of thing, and after a few months, I did sort of think that it wasn't for me, so I packed it in. One of my bosses showed some of his short stories, one of which had won a competition, and I didn't think it was very good. This is the truth now. This is how I got into writing. I thought "I'm sure I could knock something out like that...and it's much better than turning up here at half-past 7 every morning." So, I tried to start writing. In the meantime I taught school and later took a job at OUP (Oxford University Press) and edited school books, but I did write stories. I wrote a whole collection of short stories and two novels before anything got accepted, so I did an apprenticeship of my own which lasted for about 9 years, before anything was published. So maybe I should have taken a writing class! But that wasn't the kind of education I had. I came to Oxford from a very ordinary background, I went to a grammar school, not a private school, a state school which gave me a very good grounding... I thought that if I give it my best shot, I should be able to do whatever I choose to do. But nine years of writing fiction and nobody wanting it is quite a long time, you know! And in the course of that period, my reasons for wanting to write, for needing to write, changed a lot. It became my purpose, if you like.

MWSC: Did you win any awards for writing?

HM: No, I don't think I'm the award winning type. I know people who have won them. My books get mentioned in roundups, but I think there is a certain type of writer that wins prizes; you can't afford to alienate people if you’re going to win awards, you can't afford to offend people, and I just seem to put the wind up people with my stuff. For one reason or another it puts the wind up people . . .

MWSC: I used to work for a children's book publisher in Milwaukee. I was in the sales department, and awards do sell the books; without even considering the other material . . .

HM: I've got a clause in my new book contract that gives me X number of extra pounds if the novel is nominated for a prize. Probably a meaningless thing to put in a contract of mine, but at least it implies that my publishers are thinking it=s not beyond my reach. It's a step in the right direction. Either to sell a film option or get a prize is so helpful, but there is nothing you can do about these things. You have to just keep doing what you think is the right thing . . . .

MWSC: Actually though, it seems like a thrilling lifestyle, but if I had children and I had to worry about putting food on the table, it would probably be a different situation. I'm amazed at how it doesn't inhibit your writing . . . .

MWSC: You do have a safety net of teaching.

HM: And in my writing of history books for children. And I have another safety net in some ways as a well. If I was the sole bread winner for the children, I would probably have to work at something a bit more mainstream, and maybe write in my spare time . But I'm not in that position. I'm divorced, and my ex-wife is an independent business woman. She doesn't make any demands on me for money. I just pay my half. I'm lucky in that respect . . . .

MWSC: Is she in advertising?

HM: No, she's in publishing . . . but not fiction. Educational stuff.

MWSC: About your characters. There are anti-heroes . . .

HM: Like who? MWSC: Like Nennius (in Lie of the Land) killing the man who molested his son. He's kind of an anti-hero.

MWSC: I think he's kind of an archetype, someone like Ken Kesey's Chief (in One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest).

HM: I like that comparison.

MWSC: Well, anti-heroes aren't perfect. Take Superman . . . he wouldn't have killed a man, he would have punished him . . .

HM: Hmm, that's interesting . . .

MWSC: That's the kind of thing I can handle because I can remember coming across that in the Old Testament sort "eye for an eye, tooth for tooth." And I thought the bad guy had it comin'. I was happy, gratified about that. But then Nennius’s wife leaves him. I suppose it would be difficult in her situation, but how could you live with a man who wouldn’t protect your child like that?

HM: The story wouldn't have worked that way.

MWSC: Yeah the story wouldn't have worked that way, and who doesn't have that human element, that impulse that we can't admit but we really feel? And reading any literature helps that fantasy part of what we wish we could do, but we can't, either because we can't talk about it at the dinner table or it wouldn't be looked upon well by others. So when it comes to the anti-hero not having the bags with the goodies, I don't have such a problem with that because it makes it more human to me anyway.

MWSC: It's more of an American term than a European term.

HM: It might be an American term, but I think that it's a fact of life of European culture.

MWSC: Would you ever teach a class where you discussed your novels?

HM: M-mhuh . . . . (smiles)

MWSC: No?

HM: I don't feel that I've got the authority to do it. You know, it's why I like doing things like this (the Summer Program). It's once a year, which is about enough. And I do things on a promotional basis.

MWSC: Well, maybe in 20 years or so, or after you die, someone will be reading your work in class, or doing their dissertation on your work.

HM: Arrogantly enough, I could imagine that. Other things take off after their creator dies. . . I don't know, I do find it quite intriguing, this idea of being creative. If you can identify yourself as a creative person, it almost gives you the . . .

MWSC: Label?

HM: Label. But it gives you the right to behave in a certain kind of way, not even behave, but think, in a certain kind of way. I remember reading a quote about the artistic temperament that went along the lines of , "Anyone who says they have an artistic temperament, doesn't have an artistic bone in their body." You can't begin with the artistic temperament...But I do have a picture of what a writer could be, and I know quite a lot of writers now. A lot of them conform, for me, to what writers are: ordinary people but with a bit of a spin. I have to look after my children in my half of the time, so I can't afford to be "creative" and "artistic." But it's a funny thing . . . You have to sell yourself a bit too. I can see that's that what I should be doing, but I'm embarrassed about that. Everyone is always telling me: "You've got to push!" I suppose you have to just go for it, forget about irony. And there have been lots of good things recently, a television interview, and profiles in magazines, but I still find it difficult to take the whole ME-thing seriously. There are some authors who really see themselves as authors. Then people like me who fundamentally want to be regular people, and just write and keep quiet about it. But I suppose you're not a regular person if you choose to spend your life writing fantasies that have nasty stuff in them. You're really not that regular anyway. You said you worked for a publisher. Did you feel like a publisher then?

MWSC: Yeah, I did.

HM: It's a gift, being able to get inside these roles.

MWSC: I saw myself as a part of something that really wasn't there!

HM: But you play the role and people believe it!

MWSC: "Make the customer feel confident about what you're doing!" Keep talking about what you've learned . . . .

MWSC: My experience of literature is purely enjoyment, always has been. It's just so weird to hear you talk about money, all this, it's all about money, it all comes down to money at the end of the day, and I'm thinking "Huh?" For me it doesn't have anything to do with money, but I suppose that's the way it's supposed to be.

HM: Of course. It's like listening to a record. You don't want to know all about the stuff that goes into making it, all the hassle and the drug overdoses, but there is so much that goes into the mix before you pick up the book that you enjoy. The whole process that leads to you picking up that book . . . It might be visible to you and it might not be, but it has been going on for months before that point. And it leads you to ask yourself very searching questions about what you're doing and why you're doing it. And there are no obvious answers. It becomes a matter of faith after a while. You just do it because you know you have to. Yet I'm sometimes skeptical of people who say that too. People who say they have to write because they say they can't not write. I get weary with that kind of preciousness. You write because you want people to read your stuff, and that's the real bottom line. Otherwise you wouldn't bother.

MWSC: So, to put it in psychological terms, it's some sort of self-fulfillment . . .

HM: A form of self-fulfillment. A sort of narcissistic need for self-fulfillment. I do think it makes for anti-sociability. It doesn’t have to be like that, though. It’s just like that for me. But there is an alternative, if you want it . . . For instance, you're talking to another writer's wife, and after a few minutes she starts to sort of promote her husband. I'm not into that. I can't accept that. Other people -relatives - becoming part of the promotional scheme. It's frightening. There is an interesting book to be written about authors' spouses, covering both men and women, because as a spouse you have to take an almost subordinate role. You always read these books--a novel, or non-fiction--they have these acknowledgments--wife, girlfriend, boyfriend or whatever--"Without whose patience and indulgence I could never even have begun this" . . . And you look behind that and you picture all the household tension!

MWSC: I always wonder when I open up a book and on the first or 2nd page, "For...daddy, or so and so" and I always wonder "what is this name doing in this book?"

HM: I’ve done a few dedications. But I was quite tempted when I wrote The King's Evil to put "This one's for me"! Books aren't really written for anyone else . . . just for yourself and the people who read them.

MWSC: "This one is written for Nan...??"

HM: Oh yes! That was a genuine dedication. You have done your research. "Nan." Do you have that in America? That was my grandmother.

MWSC: I guess I'd say "Nanny." Haven't I seen one dedicated to your daughter?

HM: Each of the children. Those ones and the ones for my grandmother and my parents were real enough...

MWSC: Tudor Times. Is that one of your children’s titles?

HM: That's right. But I haven't even got a copy of that one.

MWSC: The Bodleian has it.

HM: Well good. They’re all there. But you mentioned my Nan. She was a very important figure for me . . . The book came out just before she died. I went to her house when she died and she had a marker in the book. She was still reading it. Half way through.

MWSC: Literature bonds to people, it's not yours . . . it bonds to the language, you just put it together.

MWSC: We've talked about intertextuality over and over, but I think it would take me a long time gain confidence in my own writing. It is generally an issue at Missouri Western. The English Majors need a class on confidence in their writing. We may be decent writers, but often we feel as if we just don't have it. We just don't have that confidence. Yeah, I can write a paper and argue the hell out of anything, but as far as a creative piece, you know I've always thought, "Wouldn't it be great to write that . . ."?

HM: Really, you've thought that?

MWSC: But I know I'll never get there . . .

HM: Why not?

MWSC: I don't want to read my words...It just doesn't seem possible.

HM: It's possible.

MWSC: What can I say that someone else hasn't said better?

MWSC: A lot of people say that.

MWSC: Which makes me feel better: knowing that you wrote and wrote for nine years and . . .

HM: Oh, I thought my stuff was great when I was doing it. And you can - and do - get better. But I have to say, the cost is large, you know. In my case, the cost has been quite large, because I put a lot of things on hold in order to realize my ambition to put things into words on a page. I think if you could live a normal life along side of writing, it might be preferable.And you need to live a bit before you write, really. There has been a spate of novels published in England in the last month or so, by 18 or 19 year-old novelists, and I don't think I’m desperate to know what they've got to say. I know this sounds terribly dismissive. I should be eager to find out what they've got to say. But you need experience, years, in order to obtain the authority to lead your readers through a book. You should be working at knowing life! You should be out there finding out the names of flowers and things! I still believe that in my own case.

MWSC: You're still writing, so you still have something to say?

HM: Something is happening, around me, to me, sometimes because of me. I haven't figured out what it is. I keep writing to try to get at it.

MWSC: Whatever it is, it's probably going to have to be addressed with hindsight.

HM: Getting at it can be quite a harassing business. I think that is communicated in my writing. Some people will be panic-stricken and put off, and others will find it chiming with something in themselves, and not mind being panic-stricken . . . even enjoy it perhaps. I don't see myself as writing novels as my main thing in life any more. It’s just what I can do best to get by . . . . And I think I've made things more difficult for myself than I need to. If I could see myself more as a writer and come on like a writer, things would probably go more smoothly, but what can you do if you've spent your whole life making things difficult for yourself? Why stop now? (laughter)

MWSC: If it works, go with it.

HM: Yes! . . . To a degree . . .

On to Part 2...