In Conversation with Dietrich Kalteis

the sigh of a sorrowful keen bemoans the approaching winter storm.The familiar scent of wood smoke drifting in the crisp winter air stirred distant memories of my grandfather’s workshop and his old wood-stove. The towering hemlock across the street, its branches laden with cones, sways in the icy wind as

There’s dampness in the air as you climb the three steps to the front door of the Reading Room. Opening the door you are greeted by the comforting scents of old books, hot apple cider and cinnamon.

The ancient wooden floorboards creak and groan with every step as you make your way among the magical journeys, fascinating characters and exciting adventures yet to be experienced. The soft glow of a reading lamp and the low murmur of amiable voices let you know you’re nearing your destination. You take the only empty chair left in the circle and immediately you sense you are among friends.

A hush falls over the room as a well modulated baritone voice begins, Welcome to the Reading Room, my friends. We’re glad you could join our conversation.

Our guest tonight is the critically acclaimed and bestselling author of twelve novels and winner of the 2022 Crime Writers of Canada Award of Excellence for Best Crime Novel for Under an Outlaw Moon. His first novel, Ride the Lightning, won the bronze medal for Best Regional Fiction in the Independent Publisher Book Awards in 2015, and was hailed as one of Vancouver’s best crime novels. His second novel, The Deadbeat Club was translated and became an instant best-seller in Germany. House of Blazes was his fourth and won the silver medal for Best Historical Fiction in the Independent Publisher Book Awards in 2017. His screenplay Between Jobs is a past finalist in the Los Angeles Screenplay Contest.

Please join me in welcoming back our esteemed guest, author, Dietrich Kalteis.

Thank you kindly my friend for taking the time to talk with us.

James: Dietrich, you have established yourself as a critically acclaimed bestselling author and recipient of numerous literary awards. What is the one accolade you aspire to achieve?

Dietrich: First off, thanks for having me back, James. To answer your question, an Oscar for best original screenplay would be pretty cool.

James: We’re glad you joined us in The Reading Room where you’re always among friends.

What is your greatest fear?

Dietrich: Fear. It keeps one from taking risks and engaging with life.

James: Very wise philosophy, Dietrich. Thank you for your veracious words of wisdom.

What's the strangest thing you have ever had to research online for your book?

Dietrich: Over the years, I’ve researched all kinds of facts that have been both strange and interesting, everything from narco subs, to dope-lobbing catapults, to cannons fired at the heavens to bring down rain. For Nobody from Somewhere, the strangest part of the research was on modern-day car theft techniques, how thieves use transmitters and signal relaying. These are the kind of oddities that add flavour to my stories and often lead to some funny scenes. Researching these types of things may also get Big Brother watching me.

James: Ha, ha! That seems to be a common fear of all mystery/crime writers. I wonder if there have been any incidents of writers being suspected because of their research.

Describe yourself in three words.

Dietrich: Doesn’t follow the rules.

James: Does this mean you can identify with some of your characters? If so, are there any in particular?

Dietrich: I suppose I identify with Karl Morgen from Ride the Lightning, and of course with Fitch Henry Haut as well. There’s a little bit of me in both of them.

James: What do you most value in a friend?

Dietrich: Nothing beats spending time with my family, no matter what we’re doing, that’s my favourite thing to do. And over the past year or so I’ve been playing my guitar a lot more, so you could call that a hobby.

James: Admirable character traits indeed.

If you were deserted on an island, which three people would you want to have with you? Why? Criteria:

1. One fictional character from your book

2. One fictional character from any other book

3. One famous person that is not a family member or friend

Dietrich: Can we make it dessert on the island of Maui — maybe Hula Pie on Wailea Beach? From Nobody from Somewhere, I’d invite Fitch along, he likes to eat, and he’s got some interesting stories to tell. For a fictional character from another book, let’s invite Henry Chinaski, Bukowski’s alter-ego. He’d be an interesting addition. And for a famous person, I’d go with Hunter S. Thompson, although he’d likely get us kicked off the island. So, maybe John Steinbeck or Harper Lee would be a better choice, whichever one wants to come along. And with any luck, I might get some writing tips after dessert.

James: What do you do when you’re not writing? What is your favourite hobby?

Dietrich: Nothing beats spending time with my family, no matter what we’re doing, that’s my favourite thing to do. And over the past year or so I’ve been playing my guitar a lot more, so you could call that a hobby.

James: Learning is an active process. We learn by doing. Only knowledge that is used sticks in our mind. Everything that is past is a learning experience to grow on, a beautiful memory to reflect on or a motivating factor to act on.

What part of Nobody from Somewhere did you find the most challenging to write?

Dietrich: Maybe it wasn’t so much a challenge, but my aim was to subtly depict the outsiders — those folks who are often overlooked, misunderstood, and displaced by circumstance — and to show they can be individuals of substance.

James: Your characters demonstrate that you possess a keen understanding of human nature.

What would you say are the characteristics of a perfect murder?

Dietrich: As fiction goes, the perfect murder is one that the reader doesn’t see coming, or one that stays a mystery until close to the end of the book.

James: Surprising your reader and keeping them guessing are great to devices to hold their interest.

Would you and your main character get along?

Dietrich: I modelled Fitch after a fellow I met several times when I was out walking along the waterfront near my home. He was an older gent who lived out of his Winnebago, curb-camping by an empty field rezoned for development. He was in poor health, but strong of spirit, and he liked nothing better than sitting in his rocking lawn-chair out front of his ancient RV, getting sun on the boulevard grass — his million-dollar view he called it. Behind him were the hoardings showing images of the proposed condo development. I liked hearing the stories of his life on the road, and he sure liked telling them. As I got to know him, I started to shape a story about this straight-arrow fellow who was getting on in life, but not letting his years slow him down. I had started putting pen to paper when I went for my usual walk along the waterfront, and found the surveyors standing in his favourite spot. The real-life Fitch was gone, off in his Winnebago to find his next million-dollar view. Yes, I would definitely get along with Fitch.

James: My wife and I lived aboard our RV for a few years. It is a fabulous lifestyle. You meet a lot of wonderful people.

What is your writing Kryptonite?

Dietrich: The internet, at least the distraction of social media while I’m trying to write. I learned a while ago to turn it all off before I begin writing.

James: It can be distracting in the extreme and very difficult to ignore the siren call.

What is the single question no one ever asks you that you wish someone would ask?

Dietrich: This one.

James: Ha, ha.

Pick one excerpt from one of your books you would like to share with readers.

Dietrich: Here’s the opening to Nobody from Somewhere, introducing the main characters.

… Fitch

He lay on the bed in back of his aging Winnebago, Fitch Henry Haut calling it The Happy Camper. Nothing happy about it these days. Not since Annie had passed.

Now having to deal with her angry side, giving him a hard time about the blood he’d been coughing up — doing it from the afterlife.

“Just means we’ll be together, Babe, sooner than later.”

“Don’t be such a boob, Fitch.” The woman not taking his crap, never did in life, and not going to in death either.

“God, I miss you …”

“Make the appointment, Fitch.”

“It’s a little blood. It’ll pass.”

“I mean it, Fitch.”

Lying in the dark, folding his arms across his chest, he suppressed another cough, waiting for the iodine taste of blood to leave his throat.

“Knock it off,” she told him.

He stared straight up, fighting her with silence.

“Fine, be like a child. But, I tell you, Fitch, you keep it up this dense energy, then I won’t be coming back.”

“You can’t threaten me, not in my own dream.” Fitch sure it wasn’t the way dreams worked.

“You have no idea. Listen, Mister …” What she called him anytime her anger peaked. “Get out of your head and feel me with your heart. First thing in the morning, you’re making that call. I mean it, Fitch.” Promising if he didn’t, she’d stop showing up from the other side. “Put up with your stubborn nature for forty-three years. Don’t have to put up with it any more.”

“What’s that mean?”

But, she was gone.

Fitch sitting up. Even in a dream, his own dream, the woman got the upper hand. And he coughed more blood, wiped his hand across his mouth, feeling the wet.

Wren

The Snows set Wren up on the Murphy bed in the main-floor den. Donna Snow wanted her feeling less like a foster kid, more like a family member. Kevin Snow making it plain he just wanted to feel her.

Pulled down, the Murphy bed left a foot and a half between the desk and a shelf of books, mostly self-help books: The power of this, the art of that. Growing rich and awakening giants. Titles like Unfuc*ing Yourself, and Not Giving a Sh*t, with lots of asterisks. A grocery-store print above the pullout, a still life with fruit and purplish shadows.

Next to the kitchen, Wren could hear the hum and rattle of the old Frigidaire, keeping her company those first nights when sleep dodged her. Propped against the pillow in the dark, she was thinking about her mom, praying for her. Wary of Kevin Snow from the start, something not right in the way he looked at her.

The third night she opened her door, listened for sounds from the upstairs bedrooms, decided everyone was asleep and tiptoed in the dark past the noisy fridge, crossing the cold tiles, heading to the powder room in her undies, needing to pee. Kevin was sitting in the dark at the kitchen nook, a short drink in front of him. She froze.

Clicking on the light, he smiled, eyes sweeping up her bare legs. Wren covering up and hurrying to the bathroom, saying, “Sorry.”

“You got nothing to be sorry about, Shortcake.” Kevin leaving the light on, waiting until she hurried back to her room, the hand towel held in front. Wren shutting the door hard enough, hoping to get Donna’s attention. Could hear Kevin chuckling in the kitchen.

Pulling the chair from the desk, trying to prop it under the doorknob, the way it was done in some movie she’d seen with her mother. The chair-back too short to reach the knob. Glancing around the dark room for something like a weapon, she grabbed one of the self-help books.

Finishing his drink, Kevin came to her door and tapped his knuckles, whispering from the other side, “Nighty night now.”

Sitting on the bed, thinking if he came through that door, she’d hit him, hard as she could, with the corner of Unfuc* Yourself.

Hearing the stairs creaking as he went back to his room. Wren seeing under the door, waiting until he switched off the hall light. Knowing he’d be back.

James: What made you choose this particular excerpt?

Dietrich: It’s the beginning of the journey — one that I hope readers will enjoy.

To learn more about Dietrich Kalteis and his books

https://dietrichkalteis.com/

Off the Cuff interviews by Dietrich Kalteis

http://dietrichkalteis.blogspot.com/

Criminal Minds Ten Crime Writers a Virtual Panel

https://7criminalminds.blogspot.com/2023/02/a-guest-post-by-ken-macqueen.html