‘Eat this sweetish segment or spit it out. You are free.’
— Anthony Burgess
Daniel Murphy: I just wanted to thank you for taking a minute out of your schedule to sit down and talk with me. Lots of things have been going on with you in these past couple of years. The last time we talked you were writing three other stories, two of which were released earlier this year.
Ellis Kross: Yes. That’s correct. The Hate Train and The March to Sundown.
DM: The Hate Train is an incredibly unique story that we will talk about for a minute. Then, the other one, The March to Sundown, which I just finished reading. Amazing. And the third one? Is there a title?
EK: I have a couple of titles floating around but nothing definitive that I can give you right now. I’m planning on releasing that story probably during the first quarter of next year. We’ll see. I’m also working on two other stories, one a young adult story and another one a short story—possibly novella—that’s shaping up to be a good one. I’m also going back over some old covers and giving them what I call a makeover.
DM: Really? Which ones—if you don’t mind?
EK: Sure. Right now, I’m going back over the first three books that I released: The Shadow Player, Until the Son Rises, and Fall to Arms. Originally, I wanted to go back over these stories and revise them; however, I really put some considerable thought into it and decided to leave the stories the way they were originally written. I wrote them when I was a young—excuse me—a younger writer. The stories were extremely close to me since they were some of my firsts—you never forget your first, right?
DM: Right.
EK: I went back over the story and started to change some things up a bit, adding more description here and there, adding in a new character or two; and while I was doing so, I felt as if I was stepping into sacred lands and desecrating headstones.
DM: Every time we talk, you’re always writing or doing something that involves creativity. I’m sure you’ve heard this question millions of times, and I believe I myself asked you once before: ‘What inspires you to write?’
EK: That’s a great question, and it’s definitely one that never gets old because it’s an answer that may vary each time it is asked. No matter what I do in life there will be some kind of creativity involved, whether it be writing or designing or whatever. Right now, a lot of things have fueled my passion to continue to write. I can’t really name just one thing. When that initial idea for a book comes to me, the idea will blindside me—and most of the time, the idea comes to me whenever I’m not even thinking about it. For example, with The Hate Train, the idea came to me when I was waiting in the drive-thru of a fast food restaurant. I was sitting there in my car, listening to the song ‘Mad World’ by Michael Andrews and Gary Jules—and most of you have probably heard the song from the movie, Donnie Darko. So, I’m waiting on my food, going ‘nowhere,’ when all of sudden I felt an urge to write a story about a young disturbed kid who discovers this mysterious virtual reality game in the basement of some trendy, twenty-four dive and the catch was—because there always has to be a catch—the game may or may not be real. I remember reaching in the glove box and writing down the idea as quickly as I could before I reached the drive-thru window. I knew I was onto something special.
DM: During our last conversation, you talked a little about your writing process. How many drafts did it take you to write The Hate Train?
EK: As I’ve said before in one of our prior conversations, it normally takes me around three or four drafts to really feel comfortable about allowing others to read the story. You see, for me, writing a story is like crafting a body. The first draft is like the skeleton, you’re putting together all of the bones of the story—the twists and turns, if you will. The dips and the grooves. The second draft is the muscle and tissue of the story—the ‘meaty part,’ as I’ve said before, the stuff that really makes each character stick or stand out. The third draft is the skin, the exterior, the style, the appeal. Lastly, the fourth draft is basically trimming down the story, taking off all the fat and hair. The story may have a long ending that drags on and on and you need to go back and shave it down to an appropriate size. Surprisingly enough, The Hate Train only took me two drafts to write. The first draft was like a piss-shoot—basically, me regurgitating a story. A lot of the material was dark in nature, so I didn’t want the story to be that long. I wanted to introduce the Reader to this disturbed young man, then throw this character straight into conflict and then, from there, I didn’t want to ease off the brakes until the character felt some sort of resolve or direction with his life. Nothing much was added or taken away during the second draft. By the time I was finished with the second draft, I was pleased with a complete story. Besides Final Days, The Hate Train was one of my shortest novels, only weighing in around 70, 000 words, whereas I usually like to stand within the ballpark of 120, 000 to 140,000 words, which, in my opinion, is a really good number to let the stories breath and grow organically without having to rush any certain areas that require a greater amount of attention. For The Hate Train, the entire writing process from start to finish took me a little over two months.
DM: If I recall, I believe you said it normally takes around three months to write a first draft.
EK: Normally. That’s about right. Every now and then, it’s good to push yourself beyond your limits. Then, once you’ve hit your limit, go just a little farther. See how far you can go. Recalibrate your limits based on your body’s response. The body speaks to you in many ways.
DM: Do you ever feel any pressure or anticipation before releasing a story?
EK: I remember when I was about to release The Hate Train I was extremely insecure about it, which is something that never happens. There are some nerves when I’m about to release a story because each story is personal to me and I consider it like a child—and The Hate Train was like the rebellious younger brother who did the complete opposite of what he was told to do and sometimes you just want to wring his neck and talk some sense into him. I was having a conversation with my editor. As always, we were talking about what’s going on in the world. The conversation turned to books, what we were currently reading, what author, what story. I told her that I didn’t want to release these next stories. Her instant reaction was confusion. Then, her response: ‘Why would you not?’ I told her that they were too close to my chest, but I wasn’t being completely honest with her. I came clean and told her that they somehow became ‘too’ relevant and I didn’t want to come across as that ‘type’ of writer. I started writing these stories a couple of years ago—the first one being The Pale Boy, which was later changed to The March to Sundown, this Cronenberg/Scorsese-esque story—then I put it on hold. It wasn’t until last spring that I decided it was time to revisit the stories. She felt strong about the stories. She told me, ‘Keep at it.’ To reinforce what she had told me, she sent me excepts from Stephen King’s In Writing—which, by the way, I have read many times, especially when I first started to get serious with writing about twelve years ago (the book had literally become like my own little Writer’s Bible). Like every book, though, sometimes things get lost in the middle, even that meaty stuff, the marrow. I went through In Writing again and read through the chapters that my editor gave me. It made all the difference in the world.
DM: That’s great. It’s good to have someone like that in your corner.
EK: No doubt.
DM: Do you think you could’ve made The Hate Train longer? I kind of wanted to read more about Josh at the end, what happened to him. Was it your intention to abruptly end the story?
EK: Yes and no. From inception, I wanted Joshua, the main protagonist—or antagonist, depending on how the reader may perceive him—to go back into the game. The reader would’ve been fully aware that Joshua was, in fact, still in the game. But then, I thought that ending seemed too ‘on the nose.’ It felt more natural for Joshua to be riding not the train but a train at the end; however, the reader doesn’t know whether or not it’s the train from the game or an actual train. I had to throw Mayhem in the mix, as well. Was she real? Did she only exist in Joshua’s head? Was she ready to put aside the game and start a meaningful relationship with Joshua? By ending the story abruptly, I wanted to raise all of these questions and give the Reader a chance to think—that’s the important word, think. I wanted the Reader to start thinking more about Joshua, his development, his change or lack of change, and then, by sparking that thought process, they would be more geared into problem solving. The first part of your question: I believe if I’d written more, then the story would’ve taken on a different form. I wanted to keep it short and simple, since the story was peppered with a lot of serious social issues. I didn’t want those issues to weigh down the story; instead, I wanted to focus more on Joshua and what he chose to do with all of that hate inside him. Will he use it for good or bad? I believe at the end of the story he changes for the better, although we’re not quite sure what state of mind he’s currently in. We know that Joshua has taken the initial step forward in trying to better himself as a human being and a contributor of society; however, when he gets back on the train at the end of the story, he seems as if he’s about to do something bad or, on the contrary, something bad is about to happen to him. The Hate Train and The March to Sundown are stories in a similar vein. They are, essentially, a young man before he loses his mind and the aftermath of losing his mind. Sort of before/after insanity. So, the stories are connected to some degree, although the reader doesn’t have to read one story in order to follow the other. But it doesn’t hurt.
DM: I’m glad you brought up your next story, The March to Sundown. Was there anything in particular that inspired you to write this story?
EK: Initially, I wanted to write a story about a lone cowboy-type character, however, set in a modern world—a ‘modern’ western, if you will. I like writing characters who are extremely flawed. I don’t think anybody likes reading about flawless characters. To me, they’re boring.
DM: How difficult was it to create such a complex character like Robert Backer?
EK: Believe it or not, Robert was one of the easiest characters that I have written. A lot of the parts where Robert is talking about his brother came very naturally since I grew up with two brothers.
DM: Let’s talk about the location of the story. The story takes place in a small beach town called Topside, which sits in the shadows of Los Dementes. From the descriptions of the other towns surrounding Los Dementes, it feels like LA for some reason.
EK: Of course. Los Dementes is a fictional city. Topside, which is the town where most of the story takes place, reminds me a lot of Venice Beach in its eclectic, melting-pot vibe. New Town has some similarities to places like Malibu and Laguna Beach. So, there are definitely some parallels to Los Angeles and the towns surrounding the city.
DM: Why did you set the story in a beach town?
EK: I love the contrast. It’s such a dark story with a religious undertone. Normally, I try to stay as far as possible from religion when I’m writing a story, but I had to add that element, especially creating such a hopeless character. To write such a story like that and have it set in this calming and yet, vibrant place is something that really encouraged the story to venture into these uncharted waters. I remember coming across John F. Kennedy’s famous ‘We are tied to the ocean’ quote. I read that quote and it stuck to me like glue. Whenever I visit the ocean, I always feel this sense of serenity. Just something about that blue desert. The sounds of waves crashing into the shore. There is this ‘peace’ about the ocean and yet, underneath the surface, it can be violent and dark and chaotic. I wanted to write a story about those two contrasts, the beauty and the violence.
DM: I know there was a point toward the end of the story where it seemed like Robert and Jazz were destined to ride off into the sunset. Is there any reason why you chose to stay away from those Hollywood-type endings and provoke more ambiguous endings?
EK: I’m glad you brought up that question. I believe this is a subject we’ve talked about on several occasions. Nowadays, I believe storytelling has become very cliché for a lot of writers, especially ones in the film business, such as Hollywood. I’m guilty. I enjoy watching or reading a story that ends with one character riding off into the sunset with another character or the guy getting the girl at the end of the story. Those stories are fun from the time to time; however, sometimes those endings cloud over what could’ve been a really decent story or when a story could’ve gone in a more provocative direction, it chose to go in the most obvious, user-friendly direction, almost like a ‘Chose Your Own Adventure’ type of ending. Me, personally, while I was writing Robert, as I do with all of my characters, I try to put myself in the shoes of that character. I think, in a way, Robert loved Jazz; however, she was more like a drug to him, as he describes while talking about an ex-girlfriend. I really don’t think Jazz and Robert, being someone who’s prone to addiction, would’ve been a healthy relationship. Sure. They could’ve made it work. Hell. Anybody who’s in a relationship can make it work, that is if both partners are willing to work together. I felt as if Robert needed to be punished. Even though he was trying to do some good in the world by avenging his brother, I believe he was doing more harm than good.
DM: That brings me to the revolver he was carrying throughout the story? You’ve been known to use a lot of symbolism in your stories. Was the revolver intended to be symbolic?
EK: That would make for a great paideia question! Would it not? Not too many would’ve picked up on that. The revolver was tremendously important throughout the story and I chose to highlight the revolver whenever it made its way into the scene. The ending of the story was intended for the Reader to come up with his or her own ending. Did Robert die in jail? Is Robert in hell? Is Robert a ghost? Did Robert really escape from jail? What’s going on here? You could go on and on with the questions. Nonetheless, all of those questions could very well work. Personally, I believe Robert is caught in a revolver and each life he lives starts on the beach and ends on the beach—remember the JFK quote? It was my subtle way of telling the Reader that revenge is like a revolver. There is no end to revenge. It keeps going ‘round and ‘round. I gave Robert plenty of opportunities to turn his life around, especially when he meets this young, gorgeous woman named Jazz. He could’ve rode off into the sunset with her, but I believe, in the back of his mind, he was too far-gone to move on with his life. Nothing was getting through to him. In a way, he was stuck.
DM: When I finished reading the book, I felt like I had to go back to the beginning and reread the first couple of chapters again. Do you think this is a story that warrants a couple of readings?
EK: I think so. I purposefully left some Easter eggs throughout the story—for example, the SAVING GRACE pendant that Robert comes across in the abandoned house. The bottle cap is another one. The reader might not think anything of these items at first, but everything I write holds substantial significance. I don’t like to waste words. The best way to get your point across is to shine some light on a specific item, like the pendant, let it sink inside the back of the Reader’s mind for later use. So, when the Reader reads the ending, he or she should be able to remember that one scene in particular. Then, the Reader should be able to think about Robert’s current state: Is his alive? Is he dead? What the hell happened to him? I like to provoke questions. Sometimes, the answers are clear. Other times, the answers are murky.
DM: Any significance with the title, The March to Sundown?
EK: The working title was tentatively called The Pale Boy. I decided to change the title primarily because, by the end of the story, you realize Robert isn’t a boy after all. He’s a man afraid to move on with his life, afraid to grow up, afraid to accept change, afraid of his own reflection. He’s basically stuck in that one phase of grief: denial. He feels like the only way he can move on is by bringing down the people responsible for his brother’s death. What the reader doesn’t realize until Episode Eleven (Rubicon) that twelve years have transpired from the shooting to the moment Robert discovers the truth about what happened to his brother. So, there was somewhat of a balancing act trying to make Robert seem young enough to make his own decisions but not old enough to make the right decisions. Throughout the story, especially after Robert meets Jazz, you start to see him becoming more of a man. His dialect changes a bit. He becomes more confident with himself. He’s changing and yet, he doesn’t realize how much he has changed until he finally takes a deep breath and finds himself swimming with the sharks. The word March is also significant in the title. When I think about a march, I think about a gathering of people marching for a specific cause or solution, such as justice or trying to bring people together for a common goal. I believe Robert—even though he’s doing all of these acts alone—feels as if he’s carrying an entire world of people who have been wrongfully accused on his shoulders. To me, it was a no-brainer. Robert also uses the night as his cover, so I wanted that time of the day to be involved with the naming of the title. And if you really want to venture a little deeper, Sundown could also represent the digital age that we live in since technology is used so prevalently throughout the story. It’s my ‘esoteric’ way of making a ‘hint’ to a larger story about machines and technology and all of that fun stuff that will be released farther down the timeline.
DM: What was the last book you read?
EK: I’ve actually delved back into the science fiction genre. The last book that I read was Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick. Of course, I’ll read anything by Philip K. Dick, an author who, in my humble opinion, was an absolute visionary, the epitome of a forward-thinker. My mother bought me a whole bunch of books by him a few birthdays ago because I think she heard me obsessively talking about him once during a conversation. I have a lot of books by him: Flow My Tears, The Policeman Said, A Scanner Darkly, The Man in the High Castle—Valis is another one. There’s also a collection of short stories that he wrote, some of which were made into movies, like Minority Report, which, by the way, if you haven’t read the story, I highly recommend reading it. And if reading is not your thing, then watch the movie. Read it/watch it. Absorb it. After you’re done reading or watching it, talk about it with a friend or loved one or someone close to you or share it on social media. There are some ideas in there that have the power to change the world. The next stories I’m writing are heading toward the genre of science-fiction/fantasy. The second book I wrote—well before I started the V series—was a science-fiction story. When I first released the book, I was extremely insecure about being a writer. I ended up pulling the book not because I was ashamed of it but because I felt like I could do better. I had very little confidence in my writing. I hadn’t really found my voice yet. I remember thinking: ‘Who in the hell would want to take their chances on some new, young writer who hasn’t paid his dues? What do I know about life?’ I was only nineteen years old at the time and I still had a long, long way to go. Nonetheless, I’m thrilled to revisit the genre. Who doesn’t like science fiction?
DM: Last movie?
EK: The last movie—let me see—was Zootopia, which I watched a couple of days ago. I really enjoyed the movie. It was good fun.
DM: Finally, for the ones looking forward to checking out some of your work in the future, what can they expect next from Ellis Kross?
EK: For those who have been paying attention to what I’ve been doing, I believe they’ll be completely shocked in the next several stories. I like to think that these next stories are more ‘blockbuster’-type stories; however, it’s been a balancing act trying to remain a ‘serious’ writer without ruining the integrity of storytelling. On the other hand, I’m experimenting more with—one may say—over the top ideas that have never been told before. I’m really having a lot of fun writing these stories. Some people may love them. Some people may hate them. I’m at a special place where I feel confident as a writer, whereas, in the past, I may have been more hesitant in what I release or share with the world. I think that one of the mistakes I was making as a younger writer was trying to please everybody. It took me a while to get here. But now, I’m finally here and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.
