Linwood Barclay - Photo by Ellis Parrinder.
Linwood Barclay - Photo by Ellis Parrinder.

Life With Linwood Barclay: ‘Sir Ian Rankin took me for a drink at The Oxford Bar, it was special’

Author Linwood Barclay on being take to The Oxford Bar with Ian Rankin, the books he always recommends and his time in Scotland. 

 

I was born in Darien, Connecticut, but my parents moved north to the suburbs of Toronto, in Canada, just before I turned four years old. And when it was time to start high school, we were living outside Bobcaygeon, about 90 minutes northeast of Toronto, in an area known for recreation, with its many lakes. My parents bought a cottage resort and caravan park, which I basically took over running at age 16 when my father died.

Now I live in Toronto. After always living in the suburbs, we moved into the heart of the city about six years ago. I can see the CN Tower from our bedroom window. The best takeout pizza place in the city is a two-minute walk away. This is not necessarily a good thing, as my strained belt would tell you.

I was a slightly better than average student at school. And I was writing stories from about the age of 11, based on my favourite TV shows of the time. I distinctly remember the principal coming to visit me in class one day, telling me that if I didn’t spend so much time writing stories, I would probably be doing better in math. 

I got my start with comic books – I was a DC guy, devouring the adventures of Superman and Batman and the Justice League of America. But my first real books were the Hardy Boys mysteries, and once I had graduated from them it was the paperback novels based on The Man from U.N.C.L.E., then Agatha Christie and the Nero Wolfe novels by Rex Stout. I loved collecting the books as much as reading them, lining them up on my shelf.

My favourite place in Scotland? Sir Ian Rankin took me for a drink at The Oxford Bar in Edinburgh. That was special. 

Once, on a book tour, in conjunction with my appearance at Bloody Scotland, I spoke to inmates at Barlinnie Prison. About 20 sex offenders, as I recall. I feigned bewilderment upon my arrival, saying it didn’t look like any Waterstones I’d been to before. 

I like to read authors I think are way better at this than I am, which means there is no shortage of material to choose from. When I was in my teens, I wanted nothing more than to be Ross Macdonald and to produce a new Lew Archer novel every year. That was the dream.

I couldn’t get through The Da Vinci Code. I think I made it to page 40. Listen, if you loved it, that’s okay, but it wasn’t my thing. Recently, I’ve gone back to books I read years earlier. Some of Stephen King’s classics like Christine and Pet Sematary, Ed McBain’s novels of the 87th Precinct, the Spenser novels by Robert B. Parker. Like hanging out with old friends. 

There are three books I always recommend. I Am Pilgrim, by Terry Hayes, Stoner by John Williams (not the film composer), and State of Wonder by Ann Patchett. If you gave me ten years, I couldn’t have written something like State of Wonder.

Sir Ian tops the list of Scottish authors I enjoy. And there’s that other writer of detective novels, perhaps not as well known: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Wrote about some investigator by the name of Sherlock Holmes.

My biggest achievement is my children Spencer and Paige. And being smart enough to propose to their mother, Neetha.

I wrote three humour columns a week for the Toronto Star for years. I made my points quickly, and got out. When I turned to books, a wise editor said, you don’t need a joke or something big every paragraph. Take your time, let things develop. You’ve got more than 600 words to play with in a novel.

My father was my hero. When I was 15, without encouraging me to be sexually active, he said there were things I should know. He sketched out on a napkin the basics of condom use. He was, by profession, a commercial illustrator, so it was a good drawing. After the lesson, he looked at his sketch and said, ‘I better get rid of that before your mother gets home.’

My pet hate is when something does not go well for someone in a TV show or movie, and the character quips, ‘that went well.’ A close second – when a character says ‘we have a situation.’

I don’t believe in ghosts, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a good ghost story.

 

Linwood Barclay is doing an event in Stirling at 1pm on 12 June to celebrate the programme launch of www.bloodyscotland.com Tickets available from the website. His latest book Whistle is published by HarperCollins and is out now.

 

 

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