Interview
Jack Ewing is Randy Fowler's ghost writer - or memoirist (see below) - and a fellow resident of Boise, Idaho. Jack is the man who helped pull together Randy's unpublished life story that has so exercised the minds of Kevin Spacey fans when in fact the actor is just a minor player in the book.
Jack is a fascinating one-man industry of prose - he claims to have written 100 million words in his long career as fiction writer, copywriter, encyclopaedist and much much more. Despite my idiotic initial rudeness he agreed to an email interview in which he dilates on ghost writing, the Fowler family, porn fiction, cats, Boise ... and he sends an invitation to Kevin Spacey.
Hello Mr Ewing! First, I apologise again for referring to Boise, Idaho - your home town - as "fucking cunting". It was most uncalled for - I thought you were ignoring my email requests for an interview when in fact the email on your site was not working - so, sorry.
I've said worse things about Boise from time to time; it has its faults, though it's scenic and the weather is quite temperate. Boise is not really my home town, per se, but my wife and I have lived here since 1980, having moved from upstate New York.
Now, you're Randy Fowler's ghost writer. Is that still the case? I understand a 90,000-word draft was completed ....
Ghostwriter is probably a misnomer, since that designation is usually applied to someone who writes anonymously for another person (which I have certainly done before). Since my name appears on the book cover, I would more correctly be called Randy's biographer or memoirist, in which capacity I completed a 90,000-word draft in the fall of 2003, more than six months before the infamous Spacey incident in the London park that precipitated the MAIL ON SUNDAY article.
Is it likely to be published do you think? Why has it not been published or even self-published? The title has changed over time - it used to be called "Out Of The Closet". Which do you prefer?
In an environment where nearly a half-million books are brought out annually in America and Great Britain alone, and where the major publishing companies are owned by a handful of entities that accept manuscripts only from agents, publishing is a crapshoot.
Randy and I both felt the book stood a better chance of publication through agent representation, but so far, that has not come to pass. Between 2003 and 2006, I sent out more than 120 queries to agents. Some 8 or 10 asked asked for a proposal or the complete manuscript (about one-third were impolite enough to never respond at all). None of them offered to represent the book. While many rejectors expressed
interest in the subject matter--which revolves around the sexual abuse Randy was subjected to, and its aftereffects, which continue to resonate to this day-- the most common complaint was that there's not enough material included about Kevin Spacey (a relatively minor character in the book who, through an accident of birth, happens to be related to the biographical subject). This reaction was not entirely
unexpected, since, as far as I am aware, there is currently no book-length work about the enigmatic actor available on the market.
It was a mutual marketing decision to include Spacey's name and image on the cover, in hopes of attracting attention (echoing statements Spacey is alleged to have made to Randy upon hearing his brother was contemplating writing a book, along the lines of, "Who'd want to read about you?" and "The only way your book would sell is with my picture on the cover.") Randy and I both now agree that was a mistake, and the revised version (currently in progress)--though it will inescapably contain some information about Kevin in the course of detailing Randy's life--will have neither Spacey's name nor picture on the cover.
The book, with the title SPACEY'S BROTHER: OUT OF THE CLOSET, was in fact produced (Randy did the layout) as a CD, which was subsequently registered with the US Copyright Office in 2005. The CD, which was vetted by a lawyer, was never released because of certain legal concerns that will be dealt with in revision.
I believe a major hurdle to publication is the difficulty of producing the manuscript in its present form: the book includes more than 800 photos (out of Randy's archive of some 12,000 images), most never before seen, which accompany and illustrate the narration throughout. The number of images will undoubtedly have to be drastically reduced and grouped to defray publisher production costs.
Self-publication is, I suppose, always an option, but there's typically little profit in that route; I'm used to earning money for my writing, and Randy would like to be compensated for the hell his parents put him through.
The title of the work has indeed changed over time. Originally, it was BROTHERS SPLIT BY SECRETS. The title I prefer will be the final one, which has not yet been determined.
How long did it take to write? Could you give us some idea of how you worked with Randy - did he for instance just talk into a dictaphone, or did you edit his words? You're a fast writer I guess ....
The book took about six months to write. Randy initially recorded his story on about 50 two-hour audio cassettes, which I spent the first month transcribing to have a written record of the raw facts. As the writing progressed, I also met with Randy two or three times per week to go over the material, to obtain further details, to ask specific questions, and to occasionally argue about what should or should not be included. I usually gave him new chapters as they were finished for comment, additions, deletions, etc.
The book, in its present form, contains most of the incidents he related, though I completely rewrote most scenes to give them dramatic structure and impact. I totally reorganized the narrative, conducted research into his family history (little of which had originally been included), interviewed some of the key figures (there
will be more of these in the next version) added material from family documents, devised chapter headings (which, appropriate to his main profession as a musician, consisted of song titles), and provided transitions from scene to scene. The resultant story is completely Randy's, the storytelling style is primarily mine.
I notice you're born under the sign of Aquarius - I have discovered that Aquarians tend to be highly idealistic, independent, sometimes stubborn but free-thinkers ... recognise the description?
Yes, I'm afraid I exhibit all of those qualities to some degree, though I put little stock in astrology as a science. I'm not as idealistic as I was in my youth, not as independent as I'd hoped to be, more single-minded than stubborn, and my thought processes are based on logic rather than emotion, which often places me in opposition to mainstream society.
How did you and Randy get together on his memoirs project? Can you say what he wanted to achieve in having the book done?
Randy and I first met in early 1995, just after I'd resigned my position as creative director at an advertising agency--my fourth agency since 1973-- to return to full-time freelancing. He had set up shop as a commercial video producer, and I was looking for work.
We hit it off (I had extensive marketing/advertising experience, he had valuable contacts from working in the entertainment industry), and collaborated on a number of projects. I wrote scripts for television commercials and videos, other freelancers shot footage and composed original music, and Randy coordinated the projects and put the finished products together.
When we first met, Randy was a hard-working, hyperactive, angry, bitter, obsessive-compulsive, tense person (one of those, as the saying goes, who wears his clothes out from the inside.) If he had not been blessed with such redeeming features as obvious musical and artistic talent, technical/computer skills, a self-deprecating sense of humor, and a quick--if undisciplined--mind, I doubt we would have become friends; we are nothing alike in temperament, lifestyles or most interests (though we share a fondness for cats). Over time, as we worked on various projects, Randy's story slowly came out. I believe it was in 2001 that he first revealed the full extent of what had happened to him as a child, mentioned he'd been contemplating a book, and asked me to write it for him. I was enough taken by the idea (I had a wholly ordinary childhood, nurtured and encouraged by loving, caring parents, so how he managed to cope with his experience without undergoing formal therapy or without turning destructive fascinated me) and by Randy's dynamic personality, that I agreed to do it. It took him another two years to record his narrative. Contrary to my longstanding practice of undertaking professional writing jobs for an hourly or flat fee or retainer (none of which Randy could afford), I agreed to work on a speculative basis, toward a small percentage of whatever revenues eventually might be realized from the finished product or related income from the project. (My only earnings so far have been a cut of the fee Randy was paid for the interview in the MAIL. Randy also put together my web site.)
I'm no psychologist, but I think Randy needed to tell his story because he was in psychic pain and wanted it to stop. Something terrible and traumatic happened to him as a child, perpetrated by his own parents, and his life thereafter--his career choices, his relationships, his attitudes--was adversely affected until, only as an adult, could he come to grips with the fact that the sexual abuse he endured was the root cause of all his pent-up frustration.
Baring his soul in the book has, in my opinion, had a cathartic effect. He's a much calmer, more directed, accepting person than when I first met him (though he's still compulsive and impulsive, and while he's at heart a kind and generous and sincere person, he'll probably never be what would be termed mellow). Even after a dozen years, I still find Randy a compelling character: a hard and punctual worker, a snappy dresser, a man with genuine magnetism who attracts instant attention wherever he goes. I don't know whether it's the hair, the chiseled features, the ready smile, the flamboyant clothing, the jewelry, the scrawny body, his world-weary yet childlike nature, or some undefinable aura, but he has the capability of drawing women of all ages in particular. Under different circumstances, I firmly believe he could have been the major star of the Fowler family; he may yet be.
On your website you say you've written 100 million words in your life; and you list an extraordinary number of companies you have written for. Which was your favourite job? And the least?
This question is a toughie for me. Every job is different from the last one; each presents a new challenge: how best to present the features of a product or service as benefits to the consumer? (In the ad industry, this is called finding the unique selling proposition--what can you say about your product that the competition can't?)
Since I began writing ads, I've built a reputation for putting a lot of thought into each project; I typically think about an ad for much longer than it takes to write. Once I've established a sound concept--often structured around a persuasive headline or opening line--an ad practically writes itself. So, my favorite jobs--the bulk of my work, fortunately, which fills an entire spare bedroom--are those done for clients who trust my expertise enough to give me the facts and turn me loose, letting me work without interference. A few examples of projects I'm particularly proud of:
* A newspaper ad for a car dealership featuring
the owner, a man named Norm, pictured in
typical salesman's attire.
HEADLINE: "Norm's not normal."
* A magazine ad for a gift shop, spotlighting
a cow's-head lamp.
HEADLINE: "Mooooooood lighting."
* A book commissioned for Albertsons
supermarkets' 50th anniversary, which I
researched and wrote.
* A book I researched and wrote for
salesmen of Oneida Silversmiths on the
history of porcelain and silverware.
* A contest I devised for hundreds of Pizza Hut
restaurants in 8 western states, the "Smelling
Bee," which through a variety of media centered
around giveaways of rubber animal noses to
children.
* A humorous poster for Ore-Ida, introducing
their new potato wedges, which claimed that
the product was the result of experiments
produced by the avid golfers of the R&D
Department.
* And finally, a pro bono billboard project,
warning men on the prowl in Syracuse, New York,
that some of the local women of the night were
actually undercover policewomen.
The traffic-stopping (literally) headline:
"Is she a cop, sucker?"
The few unsatisfying jobs are those in which a well thought-out concept was diluted or destroyed by some corporation's anal-retentive personnel--technical staff, lawyers, administrators--who left their fingerprints all over the project in the process of squeezing out the creativity. Luckily, virtually all such projects carried a high price tag, and my dissatisfaction was assuaged by a fat check. As a freelancer--as opposed to an agency employee--I have the luxury of refusing projects where the client won't relinquish the creative control for which they're contracting.
You say you didn't mind anonymity - but through Randy you're quite well known now. How do you feel about that? As a young man what did you dream of turning out as?
I'd question how well known I actually am; I'm not exactly a household name.
The great majority of my work has been performed anonymously or pseudonymously--in advertising, they rarely let you sign your work. I have earned a fair amount of recognition at industry award shows, but such fame is fleeting; the plaques tarnish and gather dust, and you're only as good as your last project.
I accepted my lot in life early. My parents were not wealthy; frugality and the value of a dollar were drummed into me as a child, and I began parlaying my talent with words into cash as a teenager. I sold my first short story (under a pen name) at age 15, my first novel (ditto) at age 17. During college, I made an excellent living writing term papers for other students--they got passing grades, and I could afford things I couldn't ordinarily buy.
While I've written more than 500 bylined articles, more than half my nearly 600 published short stories were written under noms de plume (I've always had a fondness for odd, punny pseudonyms--Luke Warmwater, Bjorn Free, Al B. Dern, Rameses Woolly, Eaton Worms, etc.) It's only in the last 15-20 years that I've attached my real name on my short and long fiction--a form of writing that compared to my regular work pays poorly but gives me great pleasure, because for better or worse the ideas contained therein are all my own. Maybe now in my dotage and more aware of my mortality, I'm finally craving a modicum of fame; now that I desire it, it's slow in coming.
Like lots of young boys given cap pistols and cowboy hats, I dreamed briefly of riding the range. In high school, I demonstrated a facility with modern languages (I was one of only a handful of students in the late 1950s studying Russian, and before the Gary Powers-U2 incident ruined things I aspired to attend school in the Soviet Union), and had notions of becoming an interpreter. In college, I added classical languages (advanced Latin and Attic Greek), with thoughts of becoming an archaeologist. Music was also a possibility--I played reeds (clarinet and saxes) from fourth grade through college, played in many dance/jazz bands, and had music scholarships before a split lower lip (18 stitches) in a car accident ruined that idea. I was also a fair schoolboy baseball player until a fractured ankle (and a half-dozen permanent bone screws) put an end to that career possibility. From the age of four, I'd enjoyed striking nouns against verbs to create sparks, so with other avenues closed, I became a professional writer by default. I'm not sorry I did.
Give us a brief description of Boise - what do you see from your window.
Sorry, but as you can see, I don't do brief, unless limited by time or space, as in a radio or TV commercial.
Boise, the City of Trees, is situated at about a half-mile in altitude, nestled in what is called the Treasure Valley. The Boise Front, foothills of the Rocky Mountains, dominate the horizon about twenty miles to the north, soaring more than a mile over the city, and the rounded peaks are typically covered deep with snow in the winter; a popular skiing area, Bogus Basin, lies there. Boise, which was a slow-paced town of about 75,000 citizens when we arrived, has grown to a bustling metropolitan area of about 200,000 today, and boasts one of the country's fastest growth rates, thanks to its scenic beauty, recreational opportunities, temperate climate, relatively low housing and utility costs and moderate tax rates. It is the state's largest city, populated largely by white, conservative Republicans; there is a high percentage of Mormons here.
Idaho's current capital--before statehood was achieved in 1890, the capital of the mineral-rich territory was located in the gold mining boomtown of Idaho City (now a village), fifty miles north--Boise is divided north and south by the Boise River, which is heavily trafficked by inner-tube floaters in the summer months; the river is paralleled for most of its length through town by a broad paved Greenbelt, used year-round by joggers, walkers, strollers, bikers and in-line skaters. The waterway is fed by a dam to the east that controls outflow from a huge, irregular reservoir tucked in a deep gorge. Idaho's vast wild, roadless areas--I believe we have the highest percentage of wilderness in the Lower 48 states, and dozens of mountains rising over 10,000 feet--begin about 25 miles northeast of town, and are accessed from narrow highways that wind through achingly beautiful, panoramic mountain scenery. On a day hike or cross-country ski outing it's possible to glimpse all sorts of native fauna in their natural habitat: raccoons, beaver, bald eagles, elk, deer, bear, cougars, coyotes, wolves, mountain bluebirds, magpies, and many birds of prey. Mountain flora are also abundant: tiny, delicate blooms in a rainbow of colors. For contrast, just beyond the city limits to the south lies high desert: rugged, rocky, sandy terrain sparsely covered by tumbleweed, bitter brush and rabbitbrush stretching bleakly into Nevada.
We have lived for the last 26 years in the single-story house we own in one of the city's older, middle-class neighborhoods, a few blocks south of the river. Boise State University, which has grown into the state's largest institution of higher learning, with about 20,000 students, begins on the south bank of the river, and has spread into the neighborhood during the last 6-7 years, in which time more than 80 duplexes, triplexes, townhouses, and similar multiple housing units have been erected to replace single-family dwellings and to accommodate the students, nearly 80 percent of whom live off-campus. The influx of hundreds of essentially transient residents--who pay no property taxes, acquire no equity, have no pride of ownership, and thus have no stake in maintaining what was once a quiet, stable neighborhood--troubles me, as someone who works out of a home office. The noise level from increased traffic and late-night parties disturbs my concentration. On-street parking is a problem. Vandalism has risen. Eventually, we'll have to move, since the city fathers seem disinclined to halt the expansion, despite paying lip service to "maintaining the character of the neighborhood."
Meanwhile, we enjoy having one of the larger yards in the neighborhood (nearly a half-acre on a corner lot), fenced to protect our current clowder of six cats--all adpoted strays; we've cared for as many as thirty at a time--from maurading dogs.
The outstanding feature of our front yard is a towering spruce tree, where juncos, finches, sparrows, hummingbirds, and other feathered friends perch between meals at the feeders that hang from the edge of our porch. From our windows in the near distance, we can watch our tilled gardens grow at the front, back and side (sweet and several varieties of very hot peppers, Roma and Better Boy tomatoes, Black Beauty and Icihiban eggplants, onions, zucchini, summer squash, and string beans all do well, and after harvest, my wife puts up many batches of spaghetti sauce, cacciatore, spicy salsa and blanched, chopped or sliced veggies that we enjoy throughout the year.) The soil is, of course, perfect for potatoes (we are probably the only state that commemorates a vegetable--"Famous Potatoes"--on our license plates). We have planted many scented roses around our yard, as well as annual bulbs, including tulips, iris and my favorites, daffodils. There are several floribunda rose bushes that cascade with brilliant red blossoms in season, permeating the air with a heady fragrance. Hyacinths, coneflowers, painted daisies, California poppies, and several creeping succulents grow wild, distracting the eye from our shrinking lawn, which despite a sprinkler system, tends to turn brown during the long, hot, dry summers.
In the far distance are the mountains, and to the east the mesa-like Table Rock, where a huge lighted cross stands like a beacon in the night. Above, the sky is usually an infinite cerulean blue most of the year (except when we suffer infrequent temperature inversions, when the bowl of the valley is covered with smog). Sunsets are long and spectacular, featuring gold, lavendar and salmon hues. On rare occasions, the Northern Lights flicker fitfully. On cold, crisp nights, the stars and planets are especially bright and distinct.
You wrote some erotica in your early adulthood - could you give us a line from one of the three books?
That's one thing I can't do. The books were written 45 years--and millions of words--ago. The books have been out of print for decades, and I haven't had my contributor's copies for a long time (I gave them away because I was afraid my late mother would discover them and disapprove of how I was wasting my talent: "No son of mine would write such trash," she would say.) You'll just have to use your R-rated imagination.
You say you write 10 hours a day. Did I get that right? What's been recently published?
Since 1970, I have been at the keyboard--manual typewriter, electric typewriter, word processor or computer--virtually every day. Depending upon the paying workload, I typically work for 8-14 hours. With tight deadlines, I've been known to work for more than 30 hours straight, especially during the political season (up to the mid-1990s, I wrote complete campaigns--radio, TV, brochures, flyers, donation cards, banners, yard signs, bumper stickers, speeches, white papers, etc.--for a wide variety of candidates, including US Senators and Congresspersons, governors, lieutenant governors, mayors, councilmen, and lesser lights; luckily those exceeding long hours are behind me). For the last 40+ years, I've produced 2-3 million words annually, at the rate of 5,000-10,000 words per day. About 95 percent of what I write gets published in one form or another. You can find my bylined nonfiction work in a number of local, regional, and national publications (they are enumerated under "Client List" on my web site). Some of my recent short fiction can be found by Googling my name; 10 or 12 of these stories are reproduced in entirety on my site. A long story, "A Wet One," can be found in the anthology, THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF ON THE ROAD (2002). Two of my mystery novels, FREAK-OUT (2000) and KISSING ASPHALT (2002) are obtainable through Amazon or other online booksellers.
More recently, I've been invited to contribute to a number of reference works. I wrote about 450 author biographies (five percent of the total work) for the online subscription work, the Literary Reference Center (2006), a dozen or two long articles for the 20th anniversary edition of the Critical Analysis of Mystery and Detective Fiction (2007), contributed annotated articles and essays to McGill's Survey of World Literature, and Musicians and Composers of the 20th Century (both 2008), and am currently researching and writing for the revised edition of Masterplots II: African American Literature (2008).
Please complete this sentence: To be a good ghost writer you have to be...
Exceedingly patient (because clients often don't know what they really want or need), even-tempered (because subjects can be volatile), an excellent listener (especially attuned to what's not being said), a sharp interrogator (to draw out the hidden facts that can provide real interest), and an efficient organizer (because a straight linear narration is not always the best option) with the ability to subvert your own ego for the sake of the project.
Back to Randy - do you think he will ever make up with his brother Kevin? What impressions did you form of the two men?
If the brothers never make up, it's certainly not because of Randy. He continues to reach out to Kevin, only to get his hand ignored or slapped away. Maybe at some point Kevin will make an effort to reconcile--in my opinion, he has no real reason to maintain his distance, since Randy has never done anything to earn his enmity--but I wouldn't hold my breath. One of the Fowler family's main characteristics is extreme stubbornness; another is deniability.
My impressions of Randy can be gleaned from what I wrote of him above. I've never met or spoken directly to Kevin. (Years ago, I did leave a message on his New York answering machine when Randy was struggling to maintain his video production enterprise, as a friend and colleage of his brother trying to persuade Kevin to help finance Randy's business; soon afterward, Kevin sent Randy a check, but that could have been just a coincidence.)
Naturally, in the course of writing the book, I've read a great deal about Kevin, and I've heard a lot of second-hand information from Randy and other sources. Kev's obviously a terrific actor, with an uncanny ability to adopt a persona not his own; he is very talented at doing impersonations of famous people, and seems able to turn charm on or off at will, depending upon how it ultimately benefits him. It's my theory that his acting ability, his capability to comfortably wear any mask, springs from his essential lack of a definable personality of his own. Where Randy comes off as warm, genuine, generous and sincere, Kevin appears cold, calculating, distant, selfish, impersonal, and hollow at the core. Like many actors, he seems fond of making the grand, dramatic gesture. As I've told Randy many times, I'd be happy to conduct an in-depth interview with his brother--and I'll extend the invitation once again: Kevin Spacey, please e-mail me--to present a fair and balanced picture of the Fowler siblings. But for the moment, where I completely believe Randy, I fear that much of what Kevin might tell me would not be the whole truth. I'm willing to be proved wrong and will freely and publicly admit the error of my thinking once I receive and absorb the additional information that can only come from the original source.
I'm sorry to bring things to me, but what do you think of the Madame Arcati site? Do you think it obsesses over Spacey, Randy and Stephanie? Madame Arcati is not too popular right now with Spacey fans ...
I've only visited the Madame Arcati site a half-dozen times; that's how I learned I had been named as one of the denizens of "Closetville," though I had not heretofore contributed one word to the discussion. The site seems to focus on the sensational, the outrageous, on rumor and speculation, and is therefore probably an accurate reflection of what apparently concerns contemporary society, which seems fascinated with the concept of celebrity. I'm not really qualified to determine what constitutes an obsession. Idealist I may be by astrology's reckoning, but age and experience have also given me too strong a cynical streak to become a committed, unequivocal fan of any fellow human; too many heroes turn out to have feet of clay.
Finally Jack, tell us what you're working on right now (apart from this interview).
My long tenure in advertising/marketing has instilled in me the need to juggle many projects at once. I've never had writer's block; indeed, I suffer from the opposite affliction, an excess of ideas, because everything inspires me, and I feel fortunate to capture a small fraction of the thoughts that flit through my brain during the 20 hours that I am awake, and the 4 hours that I sleep per day.
Beside the reference works previously named, I have several paying advertising projects coming up, as well as an extensive company profile for an architectural firm. I have a stock of about fifty completed short stories that I constantly tinker with in search of the perfect word, and I usually have 10-12 stories in circulation at any given time among print or online publications. I have perhaps 250 other stories in various stages of completion; when the well of inspiration runs dry on one project, I immediately turn to a different project. I have numerous finished and in-progress essays and nonfiction articles awaiting the market research necessary to place them. I have four completed 80,000-85,000 word crime/mystery novels and a suspense novella that I'm shopping to agents and publishers, and about 20 other novels of 20,000 words or more begun. I am about 25 percent through an original reference work, a chronological encyclopedia that I've projected for 30-40 million words. And I'm always on the lookout for new ideas.
Now, I really should get back to work. I'll be happy to answer any followup questions you may have.
Regards,
Jack Ewing
Thank you Jack for your time and generous response to my questions.
Jack Ewing's website,
click here.
(PS - by coincidence, just as I put this interview to air, a commenter sent this message: "Check out www.spaceysbrother.com Randy has changed the title of his book, good for him, looks like it's more about Randy and less about Kevin. I wonder if this web site [Madame Arcati] had anything to do with the change? Reqardless, I like the new title: FOWLER FOLLIES, Surviving Child Abuse."). Thanks.
