To save novel's talk fests, Alan Rose self-publishes paranormal mystery
Monday, May 21, 2007 2:39 PM PDT
By Cathy Zimmerman
Printable version
E-mail this articleAnyone who has read Alan Rose's new novel might find it strange to hear me call it old-fashioned.
After all, "The Legacy of Emily Hargraves," a mystery about ghosts, channeling spirits and sexuality, is liberally laced with erotic love scenes between two men.
Rose, who lives in Woodland and is community relations director at the Community Action Program (CAP) in Longview, worked on "Emily Hargraves" on and off for about 20 years.
In 2005, he turned down an offer to publish from Zumaya Publications in Texas, and instead self-published a paperback version with the Canadian-based Trafford Publications.
Zumaya "wanted a really stripped-down, lean thriller," Rose said.
The company's acquisition editor, Elizabeth Burton, told Rose in a letter that "it needs some serious pruning," but "the overall story and concept are just what I like to see in paranormal suspense."
Rose was tempted by the offer. He rejected it, he said, because if the novel were to be "stripped of all the wonderings, it would be a mediocre mystery ... a bland story I wouldn't have been proud of."
I can see why editors at Zumaya wanted Rose to prune his prose. And I understand why he refused.
But I stayed with "Emily Hargraves."
There are enough twists and turns to keep readers confounded, and Rose resolves all of them. The writing is not just good, it has moments of luminous clarity. The characters come to life through distinct, resonant voices. And what they have to say is important.
These are ideas that push and engage as all good fiction should do.
The themes are contemporary -- the nature of the soul, time, death, sexuality. Because Rose allows his characters to converse about the topics with each other -- and thus, the reader --- the novel has an old-fashioned structure and length.
The supernatural plot is set in motion by Jerry and James, a young gay couple moving into a Victorian house on Seattle's Capitol Hill that has been left to James by his great-aunt, Emily Hargraves.
James, a therapist, is giddy with excitement. The house is huge, charming and looks out over the city and the Olympic mountains.
Jerry, a contractor who works for his father, has the willies from the moment he opens the front gate.
For a good number of pages, Jerry plunges into vivid nightmares and hallucinations (or are they?), while James humors his lover through what he believes is hostility toward the house manifesting itself in delusions.
Finally, James gets a clue. (It's kind of like watching "Sesame Street" for all those years, waiting for somebody besides Big Bird to see Snuffleupagus).
How James comes over to the paranormal side is linked to his and Jerry's sex life. This plot turn is not just an excuse for racy bedroom scenes; the mystery is a labyrinth that leads at every turn, through past and present lives, to issues of sexuality.
Because Jerry becomes more and more exhausted and gaunt from the ghostly goings-on, the couple turns for help to friends and experts.
James's close friend Gillian is a confidante from the start, and eventually sees apparitions herself. An architect, she helps Jerry and James research the history of the house for any clues. (This gives Rose an opportunity to include Northwest history.)
Jerry calls on Frank Butler, a fictional psychiatrist from the University of Washington, who provides the skeptical viewpoint of a scientist and the psychological analysis Rose weaves through the novel through Butler and James both.
The threesome talk in depth about psychokinesis, electromagnetic fields, out-of-body experiences and the history of poltergeists. Their conversations range over literature, poetry and theology.
When the psychiatrist continues to be stumped, he suggests that James and Jerry consult a medium. The middle-aged woman gets intense feelings and visions in the house and identifies a crucial fact that begins to tighten the plot.
Other characters who add insights include the nosy neighbor who had a bond with the deceased Emily Hargraves, the caretaker of the nearby Pioneer Cemetery, a young man who visits the cemetery, and Ashley d'Montane, an old gay gent who provides what seems like comic relief before he launches into a brilliant and inspired soliloquy on what it was like to grow up gay in the 1950s.
Of all of them, Rose said, "The character I most identify with is Frank, the psychiatrist. He says, 'I'm neither a believer nor a disbeliever.'
"A disbeliever can be as close-minded as a gullible believer," said the author, who earned a master's degree from the School of Theology at Claremont, California. "I raise questions and possibilities. I want readers to think, and wonder."
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Rose faces a few hurdles with this novel, he acknowledged.
First, there's what he calls "the stigma" of self publishing. Mainstream media, including The Daily News, shy away from reviewing self-published books. (We make an exception if a book is newsworthy and/or of high quality.)
He also has to market it himself. After paying $1,200 for the publishing package, printing 100 copies and holding a public reading in Longview May 1, Rose is printing another hundred and seeking more venues to make appearances.
Local readers will enjoy the familiar settings and acknowledgements mentioning local people. Rose wants to tap Seattle readers, of course, as well as niche markets for paranormal and gay fiction.
As any writer would, he dreams of bigger audiences.
"This is not going to be a book for men who cringed through 'Brokeback Mountain,' " he said. "But I want people to care about James and Jerry whether they're gay or not. Can you appreciate their sense of humor? For people who can see the humanity of these characters, it can be a crossover book."
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