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A: The main
character's mother is a driven stage mother who moves the family
to Cheyenne, Wyoming so that her daughter, Susan, has less
competition in representing an entire state in national competitions.
(Note: Wyoming's population is 435,000.) A: Oddly, it was last summer's
4-day marriage of 1980's TV soap queen Catherine Oxenberg to film
producer Robert Evans. When I read about it my brain turned inside out
like a T-shirt. I thought to myself, God, here you have these two
Hollywood types who've been around the block collectively maybe ten
dozen times, yet they still found something in each other (albeit for
only four days) that made the other feel ...clean. Miss Wyoming
isn't a roman à clef, but reading about that marriage was
certainly the seed crystal. A: It starts out with these two characters, John and
Susan, who meet and really click with each other like crazy. Susan's 27,
an ex-pageant queen, a faded child TV star in an empty marriage to a
rock star. John's a decadent action movie producer. And then Susan goes
and disappears. Where to? The book becomes a mystery. Where did she go?
Why did she go? The book also becomes an examination of how these two
people reached such extreme and bizarre life situations. It examines why
the two end up being somehow fated for each other. A: Yes and no. I think we're all a
bit seedy in the end. But in Hollywood any proclivity toward seediness
is certainly indulged as long as you're profitable. A: Very much so. They both have the sensation that
many people get, that this is as far as they're ever going to go, that
the remainder of their lives has been mapped out for them and they
can't, won't stand for it. Like that Talking Heads song "This is not my
beautiful wife. This is not my beautiful house. My God, what have I
done?" A:Big? It's staggering. It's a huge
sub-industry -- a vast style tribe -- women who try and wear gowns to
ten different events a month. It's that whole JonBenet Ramsey culture. I
found out about it by accident. A friend of mine is a seamstress and I
saw a corner of this magazine peeking out from under a stack of others.
I went to reach for it and she lunged at me, but I got it in time. It's
called Pageantry and it's like a September Vogue-sized
quarterly style bible for pageant goers. It turns out my friend is a
secret pageant addict! It was slightly shocking to discover, like
finding out she had a Vanilla Ice tattoo. There's this tainted allure to
the whole pageant scene -- this eerie netherworld between the trailer
park, the suburbs, and the Marriott ballroom -- an uncomfortable gap
between the body and the way we're taught to idealize
it. A: Because it's a novel, and
novels hopefully tap into something eternal, which is what X did,
and which is what all my novels do to some level or
other. A:Outgrown? Not
at all. Everybody grows old together. No one escapes. A: I hope
that it shows a few evolutionary jumps in terms of narrative
construction and creation of character. But in the end it's a subjective
judgment for a reader to make. All my novels have been different from
the others. This is the biggest break, yet it's also the most "Mel."
After a point you just have to go with it. A: I'm 37, I
write for a living -- and for that matter, writing is my "life" -- and I
want to get better and deeper at it. To do this I had to make some large
changes in the way I do things. Switching editors and houses isn't
something done lightly--ask any writer. But mine and Judith's lives are
so extraordinarily different than what they were in 1991 when I began
with her -- a change seemed very natural eight years
later. A: With a finickiness and intensity I never quite
believed existed in the publishing world. Jenny Minton and Pantheon
challenged almost every syllable I wrote -- not changed, but challenged.
Any changes were left to my discretion, but most of their challenges
were smart, and many were met. The learning curve was like an Alp on
this one. A: By
accident. I was working as a sculptor and began writing about art. It
was a cheap and quick way of paying studio bills. And then I realized I
got more out of writing than I did sculpture. So at the age of 28 I
started everything over from square one -- going from sculpture into
fiction. Talk about a career decision calculated to freak out one's
family... A: I studied sculpture in Sapporo, Japan in the early
1980s and very much wanted to return and work inside the Japanese
creative world which was, and remains, I'm convinced, about 20 years
ahead of North American media But without a degree and friends within
Japanese industry it's, well ...good luck. So I went and got the degree.
It's a speed bump in an otherwise all-arts life. A happy speed bump, but
a bump regardless. I think everybody should live in Japan at least once.
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