"Ludlum, Robert - The Cry Of The Halidon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ludlum Robert)

INTRODUCTION

A number of years ago-a quarter of a century to be precise-an author
barely in his forties was so exuberant over the fact that he had
actually published two novels that, like an addict, he relentlessly
pursued the source of his addiction. Fortunately, it was the narcotic
of writing, chemically not dangerous, mentally an obsession. That
obsessed author, me, is now far older and only slightly wiser, and I was
exhilarated until I was given a gentle lecture by a cadre of
well-meaning publishing executives. I was stunned walleyed and
speechless.

Apparently, it was the conventional wisdom of the time that no author
who sold more than a dozen or so books to his immediate family and very
close friends should write more than one novel a year! If he did, he
would automatically be considered a "hack" by "readers and critics
alike." (I loved this last dual-persona, as expressed.) Such writing
giants of the past came to mind, like Dickens, Trollope, and Thackeray,
fellows who thought nothing of filling up reams of copy for monthly and
weekly magazines, much of said copy excerpts from their novels in
progress. Perhaps, I thought silently, "hack" had a different meaning
then, like in "he can't hack it," which implies that to "hack" is good,
as opposed to "he's a hack," obviously pejorative. It was all too
confusing, and, as I mentioned, I was speechless anyway. So I said
nothing.

Nevertheless, I was the new kid on the block, more precisely on
Publishers Row. I listened to my more experienced betters and submitted
The Cry of the Halidon as written by someone called "Jonathan Ryder,"
actually the first name of one of our sons and a contraction of my
wife's stage name when she was a popular actress in New York and its
environs.

I'd be foolish to deny the influence this novel had on subsequent books,
for it was the first time I actively forced myself to research obscure
history along with the I roots of myth as opposed to well-documented, if
difficult to unearth, historical records. For me, it was terrific.

My wife, Mary, and I flew to Jamaica, where most of the novel was to
take place. I was like a kid in a giant toy store. There was so much
to absorb, to study! I even stole real names before I learned you
weren't supposed to do that without permission. For example, "Timothy
Durell," the first character we meet in the book, actually was the
youngest and brightest manager of a large international resort that I'd
ever met; "Robert Hanley" is a pilot in the novel and was, as well, in
everyday life. Among other detours, Bob ferried Howard Hughes around
the Caribbean, and was on Errol Flynn's payroll as his private pilot
when the motion-picture star lived in Jamaica.