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I rarely socialize with my characters when I’m not working with them on a story. My free time between books is usually spent pursuing my many hobbies — mountain climbing, hang-gliding, hot air ballooning, race car driving and of course, my favorite, bungie jumping off the Hennepin Avenue Bridge.
After I was assigned this interview, I called Sophie at the Maxfield Plaza in St. Paul, hoping to talk to her the next day. Her secretary put me off, saying that Ms. Greenway had a busy schedule and wouldn’t be able to fit me in until the following week. Needless to say, I was perturbed. After all, I was the one who’d discovered her. Ten years ago I spotted her playing the bit part of a brainless sexpot in an old Mickey Spillane novel. I knew she had potential even then. She hasn’t always been the easiest person to work with, but then talent, I’ve found, has its thorns.
The following Monday afternoon, I entered through the heavy glass front doors of the Maxfield Plaza and walked quickly to Sophie’s office. Since the last time I’d been at the hotel, new wool carpeting had been installed — replacing the oriental rugs I’d used in thefirstfive books. I wasn’t pleased. I was also surprised to see Ethel, the dog I’d given to Sophie and Bram for their second book together, lurching around the lobby, growling at the guests as she sniffed handbags and luggage in search of food. Clearly, matters were getting out of hand.
Just as I was about to knock on Sophie’s door, a woman suddenly emerged. I had to move fast to prevent her from runningmedown. I’dseen her before, but couldn’tplace theface. She eyed me with thinly veiled contempt, then proceeded to the reception desk.
Sophie s smile was sufficiently welcoming as I entered, but I knew something was up. Since I was still a little disoriented from my near collision, I lowered myself a bit awkwardly into a chair on the other side of her desk I straightened my skirt, then took out my notebook And that s when it occurred to me who the mystery woman way.
SOPHIE: I’m so glad you could make it today, Ellen. What’s it been? Five, six months since we last talked?
ELLEN: Let’s dispense with the formalities, okay? Why was Patricia Cornwell here?
SOPHIE: Patricia Cornwell? You must be mistaken. That was my, ah… therapist.
ELLEN: Your therapist carries a gun under her blazer?
SOPHIE: She has a permit. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?
ELLEN: My editor at Ballantine wants me to interview you.
SOPHIE: You don’t sound too thrilled about it.
ELLEN: I’m just a little milfed that you’d talk to Patricia Cornwell behind my back.
SOPHIE: Look … even if it was Ms. Cornwell, whatever we had to say to each other is none of your business. I mean that in the nicest possible way.
ELLEN: Sure.
SOPHIE: So… this meeting isn’t about a new book then?
ELLEN: No, but since I’m here, I should tell you that we’ve got another one coming up this summer.
SOPHIE: Hmmm. Summertime. When exactly? I hadn’t penciled that in.
ELLEN: We start the story conferences in July.
SOPHIE: Actually i may have a conflict.
(Excuses herself to answer her intercom)
Yes?…
SECRETARY: Ms. Greenway, you have a call from Mr. Leonard on line one. He’s calling long distance — from LA.
SOPHIE: Tell him I’ll return his call in a few minutes.
ELLEN: Mr. Leonard? Elmore Leonard?
SOPHIE: No, Ellen. Bob Leonard, my dentist.
ELLEN: Your dentist lives in California?
SOPHIE: It’s a global economy now, dear. You really need to get out more — away from your computer and off those mountain tops.
ELLEN: Say, why the new look? The Joan Crawford eyebrows? And all the heavy red lipstick? That isn’t you.
SOPHIE: All actresses like to stretch. I’m … still… evolving, shall we say.
ELLEN: Where’s Bram, by the way?
SOPHIE: He’s having lunch with… friends.
ELLEN: You make that sound pregnant with meaning.
SOPHIE: Well, some of your mystery writing pals around the Twin Cities have really been wining and dining him lately. After our success with
Murder in the Air,
he’s become quite the hot property. Authors are always looking for good talent, you know.
ELLEN: What authors? I demand to know.
SOPHIE: Oh, R.D. Zimmerman. M.D. Lake. Kent Krueger. All the usual Minnesota suspects.
ELLEN: What ingratitude! I’ve made you and Bram into the Nick and Nora of the new millennium! And this is how you treat me? Did I ever tell you the story of where I found Bram?
SOPHIE: I’ve heard this a million times —
ELLEN: Doing a bad Cary Grant imitation in an old Bette Davis biography.
SOPHIE: He’s come a long way since then. Actually … he’s even been talking to P.D. James recently.
ELLEN: Why?
SOPHIE: He does a wonderful English accent, you know.
ELLEN: I get it now. My characters are preparing to jump ship! This is mutiny!
SOPHIE: He’s even been contacted by Anne Rice.
ELLEN: He’s going to become a vampire?
SOPHIE: A mummy.
ELLEN: But we’re under contract for one more book! You can’t just leave me high and dry.
SOPHIE: We won’t. We’re nothing if not professional. But after that… I think you better contact my agent.
ELLEN: When did you get an agent?
SOPHIE: After I had dinner with Mary Higgins Clark in New York last week. She recommended one.
ELLEN: Who?
SOPHIE: Atticus Finch.
ELLEN: The lawyer in
To Kill a Mockingbird
?
SOPHIE: He’s branching out. He’s been stuck in that small Southern town far too long. You get moldy after a while. I’m not kidding. Anyway, why don’t you have your people call my people and set up the dates for the story conference on the new book.
ELLEN: I don’t believe this. I made you what you are today.
SOPHIE: You could have made me a little thinner and a little younger. But would you ask my advice?
ELLEN: You’re a character.
SOPHIE: And your point would be?
ELLEN: You can eat anything you want in my books and you don’t gain weight.
SOPHIE: Unlike you.
ELLEN: This interview is over.
SOPHIE: Don’t go away mad. But do close the door on your way out.
ELLEN: Wait until my editor hears about all this.
SOPHIE: You mean Joe Blades? Last I heard, he was negotiating a juicy part in a Jackie Collins novel — one of her infamous love epics, I’m told.
ELLEN: I need a drink.
Hallowed Murder
Vital Lies
Stage Fright
A Killing Cure
A Small Sacrifice
Faint Praise
Robber’s Wine
Wicked Games
Hunting the Witch
The Merchant of Venus
Immaculate Midnight
An Intimate Ghost
The Iron Girl
Night Vision
The Mortal Grove
Sweet Poison
The Mirror and the Mask
The Cruel Ever After
This Little Piggy Went to Murder
For Every Evil
The Oldest Sin
Murder in the Air
Slice and Dice
Dial M for Meat Loaf
Death on a Silver Platter
No Reservations Required