When I started working on Over the Hills and Far Away, I thought I had it all figured out. I’d been sent to boarding school for seven years that changed me into something less American and, as a result, I had difficulty fitting in once I returned. Yet when I wrote it all down I could not pin-point a specific game-changing event, and I began to wonder why.
Over the years I thought I was moving closer to an answer, that maybe the why didn’t really matter. Let bygones be bygones, just write the story and be done with it so I could move on. But the process got weird when those I used to know at the schools did so much to help me get the details right.
I thought maybe if I explained to my wife what the book was about, I’d figure out why I was having problems. So I’d rattle on about this and that for twenty minutes, and at the end I’d wake her up and ask what she thought. She’d reply, “What’s it really about?” And I’d start rattling on again.
It took a long time for me to come to terms with what I was really writing about. The boarding school, travel, living in Saudi Arabia…all of it was really the backdrop for the real story, and as I got closer to the truth the more uneasy I became.
What was it like along the way? Like the “Is it safe?” scene from Marathon Man. I’m Dustin Hoffman the writer. There are a couple of heavies that represent the public and publishing industry – I’m not sure what to make of them but am studying them intently. William Devane likely my ego, giving me a false sense of security and relief just because I see the writing is pretty good.
And then there’s Laurence Olivier – Szell – the dentist, or in my world, my subconscious. At first he doesn’t seem particularly threatening, but that quickly changes until, at last, he hits the core. Yeah, it can hurt that much.
What’s my core? Sometimes I think it might have been easier had my brother stayed dead the first time, but he didn’t, and I miss him every single day.
