Show me a man who's as good with a hammer as he is with a pen and I'll show you Christopher Fahy: poet, novelist, home repairman extraordinaire. A man who's at home with any type of miter or any typewriter. A man who works will with wood or words, plumlines or plotlines. A man with loads of skill and talent - and who just happens to be a pretty decent guy to boot.

I think I hate him.

A native of Pennsylvania, Chris has lived in Maine for the past eighteen years and works as a vocational rehabilitation counselor for the blind and visually impaired - when he's not reading, writing or renovating, that is. His latest book, The Lyssa Syndrome, is simply one of the best books of the year.

Ray Rexer: Okay, Chris, let's start with The Lyssa Syndrome. A great book, but first settle an argument: is it pronounced Lye-sa, Lee-sa or Liss-a Syndrome? And what does the word mean? It's pretty much Greek to me.

Chris Fahy: It's pronounced Liss-a and means "rabies" or "rage" in - you got it - Greek. The title was my publisher's idea. When I heard it, I immediately thought: If I say this to people they'll ask, "How do you spell it?" If they read it they'll ask, "How do you pronounce it?" And everybody will ask, "What does it mean?" I was right.

The title of all four of my horror/suspense novels have been changed by my publishers. My title for Nightflyer was The Lord of the Air; Dream House was Barrow's Return; Eternal Bliss was Realms of Bliss; and The Lyssa Syndrome (I was throwing in the towel by this time) was Blue Harbor. My title for the next one will be Horror/Suspense Novel Number Five.

RR: Has the book generated a lot of response?

CF: The Lyssa Syndrome has generated more response than all of my other books combined. Fortunately, what I've see so far has been basically favorable.

RR: The basis for the book is the discovery of a mutant form of rabies virus that infects and enrages people, causing them to bite and tear at other people like wild animals - which in turn quickly spreads the disease. Not really too far-fetched these days, is it?

CF: Not at all far-fetched. Viruses do constantly mutate to insure their survival, and it is entirely within the realm of possibility that the rabies virus will mutate in this manner. I hate to say this, but it is also within the realm of possibility that the AIDS virus will mutate - just when we've found a cure.

RR: Make a great movie, don't you think?

CF: Everybody tells me this except the people who make the movies, and have said it about all my horror/suspense books. I guess they have to say it louder. I'm already hoarse.

RR: Was there a specific incident that gave you the idea for this book?

CF: I don't remember any specific incident, though I used to work with someone whose husband did rabies research at the Wistar Institute in Philadelphia. And the part about the old woman who plucks a rabid bat off her drapes was based on something that actually happened in the neighboring town a few years back. The woman had the abdominal vaccine and survived.

RR: While reading The Lyssa Syndrome I was suddenly struck with a raging thirst, a terrible sore throat, an incredible headache . . . and I found myself slobbering all over the pages. Luckily I read alone. I think it happened because the book's so damn realistic. Do you spend a lot of time on research?

CF: When the book requires it, I do a lot of research. I did quite a bit for Lyssa: read many medical abstracts, journal articles, and obtained the latest rabies information from the Merieux Institute in Miami. You might be relieved to know, by the way, that the newest rabies vaccine has so far proved to be 100% effective and has practically no side effects. So if you're ever in doubt about an animal bite, don't hesitate to get the shots. As for the symptoms you experienced while reading Lyssa - I think you should see a doctor.

RR: How about the cover art? I've heard it suggested that it doesn't really do the book justice, that it just isn't gripping enough? What do you think?

CF: The cover art doesn't do my name justice. You can't even see it without a high intensity lamp. This was not, of course, accidental; the same thing happened on my previous Zebra books. The idea is to highlight Stephen King's quote and hide my name as best as possible. My Dream House cover has a doll on it, and my name plays a peek-a-boo with her socks. At a quick glance, you might think the letters are lint. I was actually elated when I saw the Lyssa cover. I'd anticipated a snarling beast with dripping fangs - sort of an extension of the Dream House cover, which still makes me cringe - especially since it has nothing to do with the book. You might be interested in Stephen King's reaction: "It's quite outrageous, of course, but I think it's an excellent cover, dynamic and crackling with energy . . . ."

RR: One last Lyssa-related question. In the book, while the rabies virus is running wild and the town of Blue Harbor, Maine is under Army control, a woman reports her sick neighbor to authorities and soldiers come out and drag the poor man away. The sick neighbor is described as "a big man, over six feet" whose last name just happens to be King. Hmmm. Anyone we know?

CF: No, absolutely not! Did I say he was a writer? Wears thick glasses? Is sometimes bearded and sometimes clean-shaved? A local journalist, Emmet Meara, who once called me a "semi-successful novelist" in a newspaper story, is convinced that I patterned my "Oliver Emmet" character (from Lyssa) after him. Just because the character's a journalist and says, as Meara once said, "Journalism is not an exact science"; just because he has a white beard and hair as Meara has. Absurd! I must admit, however, that the subconscious works in very mysterious ways.

RR: Speaking of King, SK calls you a "wonderful writer" - and I'm guessing you think he's pretty darn good himself, right? Has he been a big influence on your work?

CF: I do indeed think Stephen King is "pretty darn good." Much of his writing compares with the best that anyone is doing today, but a lot of people can't see it because they're put off by his genre. His influence on me has been indirect, but significant all the same.

RR: How about other writers? Can you name some whose work you admire?

CF: That would take reams. I think Katherine Dunn (Geek Love) and Mary Gaitskill (Bad Behavior) are absolutely amazing. Clive Barker's work is stunning, even when his premises are absurd. John Irving is great when he's not trying to be too cute. John Crowley is a beautiful writing with a lyrical yet substantial style perfectly suited to his gentle, poignant tales. Ed Gorman seems ready to make a big splash with his hard-hitting yet tender stories. Truman Capote and Shirley Jackson were great horror writers. There are many others.

RR: Let's see . . . Chris Fahy, Stephen King, Rick Hautala and horror - three men and a genre. All from Maine, all successful. How does it happen? Coincidence or conspiracy?

CF: Rick who? Ha-ha, only kidding. Rick is a fine spooky storyteller who goes right for the primal node of fear that's buried in our brains. He went to college with Steve, but was writing horror before Steve became successful. I started my first (unsuccessful, unpublished) horror novel before I had heard of either of them. No conspiracy here. Actually, it's something in the water.

RR: Speaking of which . . . any truth to the rumor that there's a hidden body of water in upstate Maine called Lake Fornus where you guys go to perform some sort of bizarre writers' ritual that unsure continued success?

CF: You thought I was kidding when I said it was something in the water? Lake Fornus is where we fish for ideas. Steve has the best tackle. The "bizarre ritual" to which you refer is just us applying insect repellent to keep away black flies (the Maine state insect, otherwise known as piranha of the air).

RR: Okay, let's hit some basic questions. How did you learn to write and how long have you been at it?

CF: How did I learn to write? Practice, practice, practice. I've been practicing for 20 odd (and sometimes completely bizarre) years. I never took any writing courses or workshops. I probably should have.

RR: Any other writers in the Fahy family?

CF: My father was an English teacher and a good writer, though he never published anything. A great aunt published several books of stories about the Old West.

RR: What was your first published piece?

CF: A poem in my college literary magazine.

RR: What's your writing schedule like?

CF: I write five days a week from 7 A.M. till noon. If there's any juice left in the afternoon, I'll use it, though I'd rather build something or work in the garden.

RR: How long does it take you to finish a book?

CF: Anywhere from six months to two years. In a way, though, a book's never finished: there's always room for improvement.

RR: Any thoughts of collaborating with another author?

CF: Yes, and I've come close a couple of times, but it hasn't worked out.

RR: Quick, name your favorite book . . . your favorite movie . . . your favorite breakfast cereal.

CF: Other Voices, Other Rooms; Raising Arizona; McCann's Irish Oats.

RR: What scares Chris Fahy - besides the possibility that this interview will never end?

CF: Something bad happening to my wife and kids; cancer.

RR: The Lyssa Syndrome was published this year. In 1988 you published Eternal Bliss. In 1987 you published Dream House and also won the Maine Arts Commission fiction competition with a book of short stories titled One Day in the Short Happy Life of Anna Banana. Then we drop all the way back to 1982 with the publication of Nightflyer. What happened between 1982 and 1987?

CF: I wrote two mainstream novels, The Broken Seed (350 pages) and Fever 42 (500 pages), which I couldn't get published, and a horror novel parody called The Fly Must Die (300 pages), which I didn't even try to get published. Fever 42 is the best thing I've ever written, but it was turned down by a dozen or so publishers and I withdrew it. One editor said of it, "Phillip Roth or John Updike could get away with this, but you can't." I'm still not sure exactly what he meant, but so far he's been right. It could be the time wasn't right for that book - maybe it never will be right. I've recently revised it, though, and am ready to send it out again. SK's "wonderful writer" quote, by the way, was his response to Fever 42, which he read in manuscript.

RR: Eternal Bliss is a great story about a young Brook Shields-like actress who is kidnapped "for her own good" by a crazed admirer. How did you feel, as you were finishing the book, when you found out about the publication of Stephen King's Misery?

CF: Miserable. The odd thing is that I'd corresponded with Steve's editor, Bill Thompson, about Eternal Bliss right along. Just after I thought of the idea, Bill wrote me saying he thought I should do an update of The Collector. Incredible! I sent him some sample chapters, he said I was right on target, and I went flat out. I was working on my revisions when Rick Hautala called to say Steve had come out with a book that sounded a lot like mine. He was so right, and was I ever depressed. One consolation is that when Steve read Bliss he wrote: "It's a little bit like The Collector, a little bit like Misery, but by virtue of the humor and the wonderful character of Alan Swan, it is ultimately like nothing but itself." That helped. But now there's a Spanish movie out called, Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down, which really sounds like Bliss.

RR: Way back in 1975 you put out a home repair manual called Home Remedies. Two questions. First, how did this book come about? And second, will liquid drain cleaners hurt my pipes?

CF: Home Remedies was suggested to me by Harris Dienstfrey, the editor of my first book (see the next question), who had just been hired by Scribners. He knew that I fixed up old houses and he was looking for books for his list. As for the second question, what pipes are you talking about? When I was a speech pathologist I once saw a kid who had eaten Drano - not good. The amazing thing was that her tongue had been reconstructed and her speech was perfect!

RR: Another flash from the past: The Compost Heap. When was it written and what the hell's it about?

CF: The Compost Heap is my first novel, written 20 years ago, when I was young and drunk on words. It's a satire about a man who's totally baffled by modern American life. Funny scenes and sparkling language, but not much plot.

RR: I hard somewhere - I think it was either on CNN or Oprah - that the Hansen suspension bridge across Idaho's Snake River was named after your great-grandfather. True?

CF: My great-grandfather, John Hansen, went west in a covered wagon and settled in Idaho. The suspension bridge and a town are named after him. His daughter is the one who wrote the books about the Old West. She was national president of the PTA, and her husband was the surveyor who laid out the town of Twin Falls.

RR: Finally . . . what's next and when?

CF: I'm working on short stories now: fantasy/horror and stories about Maine. Then, if all goes well, I will launch into a long suspense/supernatural novel, easily the most ambitious thing I've ever attempted. I'll need luck to pull it off, and luck is something I've never had in great supply. But maybe this time.

Maybe indeed.

An with that we leave Chris Fahy, spackle in his hair, sparkle in his eyes, pen in his hand, knowing full well that with a little luck, he'll soon be hammering out more fine stories for America to read and enjoy.

Hey, is this a great country or what!

The Overlook Connection Fall/Winter 1990 pp. B6-B8