What are you looking for, homie?

Interview : Kurt Reichenbaugh


I like to do things for the right reasons. When I realized I had two Kurt Reichenbaugh novels in my TBR, I decided to dive down his very peculiar rabbit hole and to bring you all with me. It was kind of a rewarding experience, to be honest, as I've discovered a cerebral, detail-oriented and multi-talented pulpster with an unconditional love for this forgotten era of our culture. He was kind enough to sit down with me for a few questions. 

Walk us through your ''I gotta do this'' moment, where you sat down and wrote fiction for the first time.

I don’t remember a particular “first time” that I wrote a short story. I do remember writing down story ideas at around 6th grade. Back then, the inspiration for my ideas were Planet of the Apes movies, Monster Magazines and TV shows like the The Night Stalker. I thought it would be fun to come up with stories of my own. My first attempts were completely stolen from the things that inspired me. Later, in high school I did more creative writing, but by then my inspiration was purely lust. What can I write to get that girl in class to like me?…that sort of thing. And no, that never worked. But the creative part was rewarding.

What piece of your own writing are you the most proud of, why is that so and where can we find it? 

There isn’t a lot to find out there. My earliest short stories are in small press publications like Hungur Magazine. I’m proud of all of my stories, even the ones that aren’t very good. One of my own favorites is a story called “Kathie” which is about a young woman working in a brothel, who encounters a “celluloid ghost” of sorts. There are references to flying saucers and old movies in it. Kathie is the name of Jane Greer’s character in Out of the Past. It began as simply an exercise in writing from the point of view of a character completely not like me. It also ended up being my first sale.

What was the single best writing advice you were ever given? What was the worst? 

The best piece of advice was from Jim Sallis (author of Drive) and it was beautiful in its simplicity. It’s to never go with your first idea. Not even your second or third idea. More often than not, that first idea came to you because it’s the most familiar idea. If it’s your first idea, then it’s likely to be the reader’s first idea as well and therefore cliché. A simple example is to think of a backyard. Someone decides that he’s going to plant a tree in that backyard and commences to digging a hole. In the process of digging he finds something. What is it he finds? What comes to the mind of the writer first (and second and third) is likely the same thing that the reader will assume, and the surprise is gone, and with it the drive to find out what happen next. It was simple and probably didn’t need explaining to more experienced writers than myself. But it came at the right time for me.

The worst advice I’ve been given is to write for a particular market, in this case, the Young Adult market purely because “that’s where the money is.” That seemed so soulless. Besides, I don’t understand YA books, because I’ve never read YA books. When I was 13 or so I’d already graduated on to “adult” books, bestsellers etc. Then there is the advice all writers get, which is someone telling you about their kooky uncle, or a situation they experienced with their pet dog, or a whatever, followed by, “you should write a story about that!”  

Who are the five authors you would recommend to someone who wants to familiarize himself with what you do? 

That one is pretty easy. Joe Lansdale, not that I can spin a yarn anywhere near as wonderfully as he can, but just because his work is something that I aspire to. Jim Sallis, again for same reason as Joe Lansdale, and for the personal advice and experience that he’s shared with me. Robert Bloch, purely because his stories that, while filled with all kinds of gruesome goings-on, are fun. John D. MacDonald, because I’ve always wanted to write compelling stories and he’s one of the best. Finally, the old pulp masters from the past, purely for lighting the fire of imagination under my young impressionable self. I strive to be my own writer, but these writers have all made an impact on me. 

Hardboiled, Crime, Noir, Gun Porn, Fairies, Whatever. Should genre label matter? Yes or no and why is that so?

Labels don’t have to matter much to me beyond working as a general guideline in mapping a bookstore. I like books that stretch genres, or blend genres. I love genre writing. Some genres appeal to me more than others. As long as it’s not limiting, I’m find with labels. I’m not fine with copy-cat marketing. Like, the latest Young Adulttrend-du-jour” is all we’re interested in publishing and stocking the shelves with right now. Like “Paranormal Love Triangles” for example. Walk into a Barnes and Noble and it’s just depressing. I’m fine with whatever a writer wants to write. I’m not so fine with publishers only focusing on the latest fad. But that’s life, so I’m not going to lose any sleep over it. I’m not the next Stephen King or Janet Evanovich or Stephenie Meyer and I’m free to pursue what pleases me.

What are going currently working on and what can we expect from you in the next year or so?

I’d like to do another suspense novel, so I’m going down that angle right now. I love character driven stories and for now my story in progress is internal. It’s going to go through mutations, so we’ll see what comes of it all.

From your writing output, I can tell you're a ''pulpster'', you seem driven by a particular aesthetic rather than themes. How did you fall in love with pulp and why do you think the movement is important?

I fell in love with “pulp” thanks to those Science Fiction anthologies my neighborhood library stocked back when I was a dorky kid in the 70’s. I loved those books. I had no idea what “pulp magazines” were, but I knew from the copy-write dates that many of those stories were from the 30’s and 40’s. This was in the 70’s that I was discovering these stories. “The Man Who Evolved” and “Arena” were two stories that I distinctly remember blowing me away. Both from the old pulp magazines of the past. Those writers wrote like their chairs were on fire, without any rewrites. The imagination and drive to produce such terrific stories is incredible to think of. And on manual typewriters without the benefit of spellcheck, etc. or the internet to supplement any research. I have nowhere near the fortitude to do what they did. I think the pulp movement inspires and drives us fans to provide, hopefully, something in return for the pleasure we’ve gotten.  

I loved the moral ambiguity of LAST DANCE IN PHOENIX. Everybody's a bad guy at heart, a bit like in BREAKING BAD. Was that something you aimed to expose with the novel? Did it stem from a real life frustration?

Yes to both questions. I have a friend who is a psychologist who once said in passing, over a Guinness no doubt, that most people are probably about 15 minutes away from Breaking Bad. An honest man will admit to pursuing his goals with a tinge of larceny in his heart. The savage is there within each of us, and proof of that would be substantiated if we supplied our cars with hidden cameras and microphones. It’s in our cubicles at work for those of us with the misfortune of having to grind out our working lives in them. I certainly didn’t set out to find a space in an artificial “office” in the middle of a floor made up of other “artificial” offices. But that’s what happens to most of us, and I’m perfectly willing to accept the blame for it, whether through fear of not trying something riskier, or settling for something with security, there it is. And by accepting that, the frustration simmers within.

That and witnessing the utterly vapid and disingenuous role playing that success in corporate life requires. Having to listen to some stuffed shirt executive talk about how “people are the most important element to a company” or the trials he’s going through sending his kids to Harvard, while you’re wondering if your car is going to not break down before the next paycheck. The horrible sound of false laughter at stupid jokes. The way someone turns radioactive the minute they’re made redundant. That brilliant parting shot of wishing them “luck on their future endeavors.” And yet there is the other side of it, like finding that kindred soul who sees the absurdity the way you do. The woman who shares with you the funny stuff she heard in the company restroom. Those kindred spirits make it worthwhile. Yeah, I had a blast writing LAST DANCE IN PHOENIX. I’ve lived practically every one of those situations that Kent experiences, this side of what’s legal.  Anything else is my secret.   

Book Review : Cody Goodfellow - Repo Shark (2014)

Book Review : C.S DeWildt - Love You to a Pulp (2015)