Lawrence.com

Daniel Woodrell does not write stories with happy endings.

His novels always descend into a haunted no-man's land of rogues, outlaws and cutthroats who would rather fight first and not talk at all. His pages are filled with vibrant people who are so scary and dangerous and funny that they make film director Quentin Tarantino's gang look like the Little Rascals. His characters may or may not spill as much blood as those of Tarantino, but they do come across as very, very real. And that reality, that ability to delve into the bleak, seamy lives of his fictional characters and still make them sympathetic, has made Woodrell the darling of the publishing world, and has Hollywood knocking on his door.

The former Lawrence resident and Kansas University graduate, whose last novel "Woe to Live On" was turned into the Ang Lee film, "Ride With the Devil," admits preferring dark tales to sappy, happily-ever-after affairs. His novels purposefully are filled with gritty losers and loose women.

His latest release, "The Death of Sweet Mister," offers more of the same, and it's winning rave reviews from book critics across the country. Bret Isreal of the Los Angeles Times calls it a "fiery, hair-raising novel" that displays a hint of Ernest Hemingway's narration and William Faulkner's Southern gothic flavor. But the rest of it is true Woodrell.

"The theme I've developed � though it wasn't conscious � always deals with the outsiders, those left out or those who don't feel included," Woodrell says during an interview from his West Plains, Mo., home. "I show the point of view of people that you might otherwise despise if you just meet them. But by the end of the books, readers have told me they come to care about the characters. I'm drawn to that type of story. That's where the juice kicks in, and I identify with it strongly."

"Sweet Mister" is told through the eyes of Shug, a fat, lonely teen-ager whose lifestyle is so low on the social scale that he would probably consider being called "white trash" a step up in the world. Shug and his mom live on the edge of an Ozark mountain cemetery, where the view from any window renders only dismal tombstones. He spends his days in terror of his mom's live-in lover, Red, a drunk who berates him unmercifully and coerces him into a string of not very well-planned robberies. Together, they end up stealing the prescription drugs of sick town folks.

Shug's mother, Glenda, is no ally, and her moral wantonness causes Shug as much embarrassment as Red's criminal behavior. Add into the mix a hint of incestuous feelings Shug has for his mom, and a mysterious stranger who tries to lure her away to New Orleans, and you have the makings of a steamy, sick, Southern potboiler.

"It's pretty bleak and not for everyone. But then again, 'Little House on the Prairie' isn't for everyone, either," Woodrell says with a laugh.

In Woodrell's capable hands, however, it coalesces into readable, and important, literature. Or as Isreal says in his recent review, "his voice rings so true and clean and the prose is so sharp and spiky that any doubts quickly fade as we enter into this dangerous and memorable mountain world."

Pretty high-falutin praise for a city scribe.

"I think I learned how to write on this one," he says of his seventh novel (his other books include "Give Us a Kiss" and the award-winning "Tomato Red"). "No matter how much people have liked other books of mine, or how much fondness I have for them, something about the story and tone really came together on this one. In the past, I've had a hard time resisting a joke, even if it meant a digression, but I didn't on this one."

Words into images

Though Woodrell kept the humor to a minimum in "Sweet Mister," he lets his sharp wit out to play all through the interview. His favorite topic of choice revolves around his experiences watching his well-received novel "Woe to Live On" go through the Hollywood movie grinder and come out as "Ride With the Devil," which opened to mixed reviews and tepid box-office receipts (under $2 million domestically).

"Ride With the Devil" tells the story of the Missouri-Kansas Civil War skirmishes. In true Woodrell form, he writes it through the eyes of a young bushwhacker (played in the film by Tobey Maguire).

"I thought an interesting story could be told from telling it from the other side's view," he says.

Before the experience, Woodrell was a novice to Hollywood, now he talks like a wise and battle-scarred sage.

"I was a first-timer," Woodrell says almost wistfully.

The process began well enough. The acclaimed director, Ang Lee, who scored big this year with "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon," was excited about the book and wanted to do the movie. There was a production slot open so that the movie could be made quickly, and some big-name stars had signed on. Then things started to spiral out of control.

First, the producers who wanted to do the story moved on to other projects, as did the next team. Then the production began ping-ponging to different studios, beginning with Universal Pictures and eventually landing with USA Films. The Hollywood honchos who ended up with the project did not know quite what to do with a story with Confederate guerrillas as the heroes, and were under-whelmed and under-enthusiastic from the beginning. A bad situation became even worse when an A-list actor backed out, leaving them with a tough marketing angle to fill.

After shooting the movie, the executives decided to go with peddling the biggest name personality in the cast, who happened to be singer Jewel Kilcher in her screen debut. Unfortunately, the songwriter was undergoing a double-wammy lambasting at the time from music critics, and from book critics, who felt her best-selling poetry tome � well � stunk.

"They wanted a name to publicize, but I think that backfired over the backlash she was going through among the press before the movie even came out," Woodrell says.

So what did Woodrell think of the ever-sincere singer's movie performance?

After some hesitation, Woodrell says: "Well, it wasn't a bad job. But I kept thinking, 'Hey, that's Jewel on the screen.'"

The writer liked the movie better than Kilcher's acting job, and thought it was going to financially do OK based off the standing ovation the film received at the London Film Festival. But the movie distributor was non-pulsed and decided not to spend the money marketing the picture. In other words, they let it die in the theaters.

"It's a crazy business. It's a $40 million movie and they just threw that money away. They might as well just sat down and divided up the money between us all instead. But $40 million isn't a lot of money to them," Woodrell says ruefully.

The film's producer broke the news to him that USA was burying the movie. Some bad critical reviews also hurt their opinion of the film, though second-look reviews are drawing interested viewers back to "Ride With the Devil."

Woodrell takes it all with a grain-of-salt.

"They think some of the early press might have misunderstood the politics of the matter," he says. "My editor told me that not everyone knows history, and that just because they are from Entertainment Weekly doesn't mean they've read Howard Zinn's 'A People's History (of the United States of America).'"

Lawrence connection

Despite his growing reputation as an author of merit, Woodrell does not consider himself a "name writer" who can automatically draw large groups to his book signings. So he's convinced his publishers not to schedule a book tour for him. Instead, he'll promote the book via interviews.

He does, however, have a strong affinity for Lawrence � his literary roots were planted here � and coming back to town proved too much of a temptation for him. After a stint in the Marines, Woodrell came to Lawrence to study at Kansas University, where he obtained a bachelor's degree in general studies with an emphasis in literature. He then lived here for several years.

"I just love the place," he says.

Because of that loyalty, Woodrell is making Lawrence one of the only places where he'll be signing copies of his novel, at 7:30 p.m. Wednesday, The Raven Bookstore, 8 E. Seventh St.

A solitary life

These days, Woodrell lives in a Missouri burg that, though small, is a regular metropolis compared to other surrounding hamlets.

"This is a big town," he says, "around here."

He used to write all night, but paces himself now through morning sessions. He figures that writing three strong hours worth of prose is better than pounding out eight hours of mediocre material. He spends the rest of the day reading, handling the business of writing, planning future novels and relishing his solitary, creative lifestyle.

He definitely won't say no to any future movie deals. In fact, talks are in progress with Hollywood over "Sweet Mister." But Woodrell also has learned that he does not want any part of what the movie industry considers the creative process.

"I get offers to write movies," he admits. "But that's a collaborative process. And I don't collaborate. I don't want to write a happy ending because they say 'write us a happy ending.'" There are plenty of hacks out there eager to do that."