By Matt Martin

Chris Terry is a big deal.  His first novel, Zero Fade, has received rave reviews from Slate and Kirkus.  And, if publishing his first novel wasn’t life-changing enough, he moved from the great City of Chicago to Los Angeles.  While sipping on a ‘tall boy’ via the interweb, Chris talks about Zero Fade, music, and the differences between Chicago and Los Angeles.

MM: Zero Fade (Curbside Splendor) is a hilarious portrayal of a young man’s journey through the trappings of middle school.  It’s also a teenager’s meditation on race. How much did your own experience inform your protagonist’s world view?

CT: I didn’t think I was dealing with race in Zero Fade, but I’ve come to see that writing a group of black characters with a story that’s not framed by their interactions with white people is a big statement in itself. I thought of the book as being more about youthful misconceptions of masculinity than about race. I write a lot about race, about growing up with a black father and an Irish-American mother. I was worried that working through my mixed-race identity on the page while writing my first novel would make my brain melt, so I made most of the characters in Zero Fade black. It didn’t help. Instead, I was scared that everyone who teased me for “talking white” in high school was gonna pop back up and shout about how inauthentic my book sounded. Lucky for me, most high school bullies don’t read awesome books.  

MM: One of the great things about Zero Fade is the narrator’s voice.  It’s tough to keep the narrator’s voice consistent; yet you manage it so well with Kevin.  How did you keep Kevin’s voice vibrant and consistent throughout?

CT: Thanks! A big thing for writing Kevin was figuring out what he would and wouldn’t understand as a thirteen year old, especially in scenes like the barbershop in chapter two, where I was trying to use Kevin’s voice to convey something that he didn’t understand in a way that was clear to the reader. In writing and editing, I just constantly asked myself what a seventh grader’s take would be. I pulled from my own memories. It made me cringe. This ties in with your first question. I remembered my own ideas of the world when I was in middle school, and used those to inform my characters, but I don’t consider Zero Fade to be particularly autobiographical.

MM: You have participated in some great literary events across the country — including Come Home Chicago (wink) and Literary Death Match in Austin, Texas.  What advice would you give to someone just starting to read their writing at lit events?

CT:  Pick something short, like five to eight minutes long. Funny tends to go over better. Practice reading it at home, and time it. When you read, don’t blast through it like Micro Machine Man, but don’t go so slow, it’s boring. I suggest that Columbia people go a little faster than their Story Workshop instructor would like. Shortly before you read, warm up by reading a couple paragraphs out loud somewhere private. During: remember that people came to see a reading. They’re ready to like what you’re doing. They’re not gonna cuss you out. And after, drop the mic, grab your junk, put your hood up and bust out of the venue.

MM: You just recently moved to Los Angeles, you started a new job, you’re promoting the novel, AND you find time to have an occasional adult beverage. How do you work writing into your schedule?

CT: I’m that annoying guy who’s awake before everyone else. I get up early during the week and either run a few miles or write for an hour. I tend to take a couple hours to write on the weekend as well. I’ve found that, no matter how much time I have to write, I’m only productive for forty-five minutes or so, so short, frequent bursts keep my mind on the story and keep me from feeling bogged down. I do the more administrative stuff, like submitting work or booking readings, in the evening.

MM:  You lived in Brooklyn, Boston, Chicago, and now Los Angeles.  East Coast vs. West Coast?

CT: The older I get, the less it is about where I am than what I’m doing. If I can write and jog and cook weird vegan stuff, I’m cool. But, as of now, East Coast, because I spent twenty-five years there. I’ve only been in LA since October. And, uh, what about the Midwest? Chicago might have been my favorite so far.

MM: Pac vs. Biggie?

CT: Biggie, every day of the week and twice on Sunday. He knew what details to drop in to make a lyric come alive, and was never flashy. His stuff always sounds simple at first listen, but reveals depth over time. I prefer Pac the actor to Pac the MC. I still watch Juice every year or two, play Ready to Die every few weeks and…I couldn’t tell you the last time I threw on “All Eyez on Me.” <Ducks Jheri Curl oil coated bullet>

MM:  You’re an avid hip-hop fan, toured with punk bands, and love music.  What have you been listening to lately?

CT: The album I played the most in 2013 was Acid Rap by Chicago’s Chance the Rapper. I think his lyrics sum up a lot of the contradictions of being young in Chicago. I also checked out “Muchacho“ by Phosphorescent after reading about it on some year-end lists. Otherwise, I’ve been playing a lot of electronic music that you can’t dance to: “Burial,” “The Range,” these gay porn soundtracks by Patrick Cowley… I write to instrumental stuff, if any music.

MM: This is a completely unfair question, but top three 90’s movies.  Go!

CT: “Wayne’s World,” “Friday,” “Juice.”  That was totally fair. I like what Don DeGrazia said about “Repo Man,” when you interviewed him, about how it’s like hanging out with an old friend who shares your sense of humor. I feel that way about Wayne’s World.  I recently watched it with a guy I’ve been close with since 7^th grade (when Wayne’s World was released) and we were amazed at how formative that movie was to our shared sense of humor.

MM:  Bear with me….the world has just slipped into a Book of Eli (an underrated Denzel/Oldman vehicle) type of nuclear fallout, and you and your lovely wife Sharon are lucky enough to be on the road between Vegas and LA.   What book do you have in your backseat (one you can’t live without) and what album accompanies it?

CT: Hmm. I’m not big on rereading books, but I’m in the middle of Nina McConigley’s short story collection, Cowboys and East Indians, and want to finish it. So that. I’m bad at quantifying, but have loved “Purple Rain“ by Prince, “Superfly” by Curtis Mayfield and “London Calling” by The Clash for most of my life. Also, fuck, I’d rather die than go to Vegas. That’s where unimaginative men go to see their naive expectations crushed.

MM:  What Los Angeles neighborhood most reminds you of Chicago/Brooklyn?

CT: Chicago/Brooklyn sounds like a mythical place where the rent is reasonable and men have the sense not to wear flip-flops in public. You can’t fight the pigs in flip-flops. For real, though. I’m not sure. LA is very different and I’m still figuring it out. I had a great time walking around Eagle Rock and Highland Park, but actually live almost an hour from there on the beachy, suburban Westside. My wife and I live near our jobs, so it’s kinda like living in a small town during the week. Just plunk me down in a neighborhood where a six foot tall mulatto with a red ‘fro doesn’t stand out, and I’m cool.

MM:  Why can’t you find good pizza in LA?

CT: I haven’t really tried. Me and cheese don’t get along. But, my theory is that the further you get from the Northeast, the worse the pizza gets. Especially heading south.

MM: You love to cook. Favorite dish to cook at the crib?

CT: I went off the top of my head and made a roast vegetable, tempeh and homemade tomato sauce tart with a biscuit crust last night. It was vegan, too.

MM: Favorite fictional punk rock band name?

CT: Scared to share it because I still might use it some day, but: Dick Moves.

MM: Thanks, Chris Terry, you sir, are a gentleman and a scholar.

CT: Well, dang. Thanks Matt Martin. You are, too.