"...HE'S JUST A GUY OF HIS TIMES.": A KILLING WAY'S J.R. SANDERS

A Killing Way is the fourth book to feature J.R. Sanders Nate Ross. The thirties Hollywood P.I. is hired by silent cowboy star William S. Hart to locate a painting fames western artist Charles M. Russell did of him. One suspect had already died in a gunfight and a few bullets come his way as he moves through L.A.s cowboy extras and stuntmen to find the work of art.J.R. Sanders took some time to talk about writing the book and the world it is set in.

SCOTT MONTGOMERY: You involved two of my favorite people in your mystery, William S. Hart and Charles Russell. How did the idea come about?

J.R. SANDERS: My wife was the one who suggested involving William S. Hart. We’ve toured his home and attended events there, and it’s a wonderfully preserved bit of not only early Hollywood history, but Western history. Hart’s lifetime bridged the real West to the “reel” West. Some of the type of figures he portrayed in the silents were still around, and he knew many of them. Wyatt Earp and Bat Masterson were among his acquaintances. He was also pals with Will Rogers. And Russell, of course – Hart and Charlie Russell had been friends from Hart’s pre-Hollywood days as a stage performer in New York. The plot line involving the stolen Russell came out of a conversation we had with a docent on one of our visits to the Hart house. She mentioned that several artworks had mysteriously vanished from the home over the years since Hart had deeded the property to Los Angeles County in his will and that although there were suspicions, nobody knew what had become of them.

S.M.: What did making the Macguffin a painting lend to the story?

J.R.S.: I think making it a painting, specifically one by Charles Russell (if a completely fictional one), added a little extra bit of intrigue, at least for Western fans. Who in the Western world doesn’t know and admire Charlie Russell’s works? It also touched on a bit of actual history, as Russell had indeed painted an earlier portrait of Hart (which is mentioned in the book), and Hart kept such prized items on open display for himself and his guests to enjoy. To this day the Hart mansion has works by Russell, among other well-known artists, on full view just as they were in Hart’s day. Plus, it was just fun for me to imagine that Hart owned not only works by Charlie Russell, but the last Russell – rare enough to make it a sort of cowboy Maltese Falcon.

S.M.: While Nate is capable, he doesn't come off as a typical P.I. tough guy. How would you describe him?

J.R.S.: I’d say he’s just a guy of his times, using the skill set he has to carve out a living in a period when that was more than usually difficult. Though he hides it, and would never admit it even to himself, he’s got a faint streak of idealism, or he wouldn’t be in the profession he’s chosen. But his past life has made him cynical and distrustful of most people. He doesn’t have much faith in his fellow man, but he’s got a strong sense of justice for the wronged. He’s not a tough guy per se, but he’s capable enough to get the job done

S.M.: I really loved the way you portrayed William S. Hart. How did you write for this historical figure in your fictional story?

J.R.S.: I saw him, and tried to portray him, as a somewhat sad figure who knows his best days are behind him and is determined to keep his dignity and protect his legacy as best he can. He’s living very much in the (1939) present, but always has one eye on the past. He can be a little windy and artificial, but he’s got a strong moral sense, an old-world courtliness, and he’s sincerely trying to live the noble image he projected in his films.

S,M.: I felt the time and place yet you use historical detail with a light touch. How do you approach the period?

J.R.S.: I like to set the period tone mainly through dialogue. People had a colorful way of expressing themselves in the era, particularly in the underworld vernacular favored by crooks and cops alike, much of which – like all slang does – made its way into general use. I’ve been accused of overusing the lingo now and then, but if you read any fiction or nonfiction – even newspaper articles – dealing with the seamy side of life in the 30s, you’ll see that if anything I may be underdoing it. So no apologies. I also try to immerse readers in the period and place by including the occasional reference to actual news of the day, L.A. landmarks which may or may not still exist, and by bringing in actual figures – some well known, some less so – as peripheral characters.

S.M.: You worked in the film world. What did you want to convey about it in this time?

J.R.S.: My film industry credentials are pretty slim. I’ve been a production company intern (writing coverage on submitted screenplays), written a couple of public service spots that were produced, and acted as a glorified extra and ad-hoc consultant on one episode of a History Channel documentary. I don’t count the screenplays I’ve written, which have yet to get much attention (except from the BBC – nobody writes a more polite rejection letter than the Brits). All that to say I’m not sure I’m in a position to offer useful advice, except to say if that’s what you’re aiming at, never give up.

S.M.: Would you rather have been a part of the industry then or now?

J.R.S.: Tough to say. I think movie biz writers were much more respected in the Golden Age of film, but the pay (for the most part) is far better now. It’s always good to be respected in your field,  but on the other hand, to borrow a phrase from Smiley Burnette, you can’t eat stardust.