I would have been hard-pressed to leave Marcus Sakey’s debut crime fiction novel on the shelf. First there were the blurbs from the likes of George Pelecanos, Lee Child and Ken Bruen, all favorites and all fellas who don’t toss out unwarranted compliments. He also contributes to the Outfit Collective blog, a fascinating site where he and fellow Chicago crime writers talk about their craft. Then there was Sakey’s membership in the Killer Year group, a handful of debut crime fiction authors who banded together to help promote one another. My first toe-dip into that pool was with Sean Chercover’s Big City, Bad Blood, a great Chicago-based thriller. Sakey, a fellow Chicagoan, was getting equally rave reviews for The Blade Itself. How could I not read this book?

I’m glad I did. The Blade Itself is a taut, edgy thriller that lives up to the considerable hype, and marks Sakey as a new voice to watch in the world of crime fiction. It is the story of Danny, a southside hood who runs with Evan, a gun-happy thug. A botched burglary at a pawn shop sends the two in separate directions: Danny cleans up and goes straight while Evan heads to prison. Of course, nothing good lasts forever, and Danny has a hard time fitting a newly released Evan back into his life.

There is plenty of action here, but Sakey also salts his tale with considerable food for thought, riffing on second chances and the penal system in particular. The author spent 10 years in advertising and marketing before taking the plunge as a novelist, so he had to do significant research to promise verisimilitude in his story. He writes on his web site that he “shadowed homicide detectives, learned to pick a deadbolt in sixty seconds and drank plenty of Jameson.” But this is no term paper; he weaves this newly gleaned information into the story seamlessly.

Sakey’s next book is another stand-alone, At the City’s Edge, about “a discharged soldier who returns from Iraq to find a similar war raging in his South Side neighborhood.” Set in Chicago, like The Blade Itself, it is due in 2008.

The author keeps busy between books by writing non-fiction pieces for magazines and participating in a number of literary events. He took time out to answer a few questions about his books, his city and his peers.

TIRBD: It seems to be a somewhat risky move to start a career writing stand-alones in the mystery/thriller genre rather than to initiate a series, but you've managed to succeed. Did you give any thought to this when starting out, or was this simply the book you needed to write?

MS: I'll tell you a secret: you give everything thought when you're writing a novel. It takes a year, and it's on your mind the whole time, which means that you have months and months to not only identify all the stupid mistakes you're making, but also to flagellate yourself raw for them.

I worried about a lot of things, including not writing a series. However, at the end of the day, I didn't see a way to be faithful to the characters I had created and the story I was trying to tell, and yet also make it a series. So I took them through the worst experience of their life, punished them for old mistakes, tried to give them a brighter future, and then said goodbye.

The style works well for me, though. After a year of living with a group of characters, I tend to want a little relief, to move into someone new. So for now, I'm planning to continue writing stand-alones.

With the character of Evan, it would be easy for a lesser writer to let him devolve into bad-guy caricature. How did you keep yourself on the right side of that line? Where do you go internally to bring yourself to write about someone so far removed from yourself?

Well, first off, thank you very much.

What I was trying to do with Evan was paint a portrait of a guy who had always had a temper, always been rash, but had at one time been a good friend, too. Men can do that--we can have good friends that are people we may not exactly like, but trust, or have shared history with. In the beginning, Evan was that kind of a friend to Danny. But seven years in maximum security prison warped him, heightened his tendency to violence, and taught him that force was a universal language.

So my goal was to make him as human as I could without compromising the fear factor. I wanted readers to be scared of him, and to root for his defeat, and yet on some level to understand what had made him into the man he was.

As for writing that kind of character, I have to say, it's great fun. The bad guy lets you live your id, just free that part of yourself that wants and wants and doesn't like rules. It's cathartic.

Is there a Chicago tradition of which you feel a part? Are you and your peers like Sean Chercover starting a new one, or are you simply a continuation of something?

I love this city, and I'm certainly trying to capture some of its essence in my work. To me, The Blade Itself couldn't have been set anywhere else. But I'm not sure that I'm either connecting with an existing tradition or starting a new one. I'm just trying to write the best books I can. Right now they are set in Chicago; that may change someday. I take it one book at a time. I'm not smart enough to handle two.

You did some significant research for The Blade Itself; did you do similar work to prepare for writing your next book, At the City's Edge, which deals with a soldier returning from Iraq?

Research is one of the most rewarding parts of writing thrillers. You get to experience a life that is a hundred miles from your everyday, from the daily life of most people. I've ridden with the police numerous times. I've toured the morgue and learned how an autopsy was performed. I've taught myself to pick a lock.

For At the City's Edge, I had two main areas of research: the common soldier's experience, and the life and structure of metropolitan street gangs. Both were fascinating. I interviewed soldiers, spoke to cops in Chicago, LA, and New York, read numerous memoirs, kept up with daily blogs, even borrowed a bulletproof vest and spent a couple of days shadowing Gang Intelligence units. I love doing that stuff; my wife, not so much.

You share a lot of information about the process of writing and publishing on your web site. Did you find similar help when you were coming up as a writer, and if so, where did you find it?

Most definitely. That's one of the things I love about writing popular fiction: the community is so supportive. As far as web sites, three that aren't to be missed are A Newbie's Guide to Publishing, Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind and Backspace . Beyond web resources, though, authors themselves are accessible. Go to a conference. You'll find one of your heroes drinking at the hotel bar. Walk up, buy him or her a beer, and pick their brain. It's wonderful.

You also work hard to connect with readers, going to far as to offer to drop by Chicago-area reading groups who are discussing your book. Do you feel this is required now of authors who hope to break through, or is there other motivation to you to work this hard to connect?

Some level of self-promotion is definitely part of the game these days. But I also love connecting with readers. I'm still at the stage where it's strange and wonderful that people have read the book and enjoyed it, and so making an effort to meet these folks isn't a bother. It's a thrill.

What has it been like to be a part of the Killer Year group?

It's been great. We cheerlead for each other, and share connections and effort. And we've sold an anthology, which was edited by Lee Child. The book is called Killer Year: A Criminal Anthology, and is coming out next spring from St. Martin’s. Keep your eyes open for it—I’ve read a couple of the other stories, and they’re dynamite.

Labels: crime fiction, Monday Interview