Satori - Don Winslow [151]
But the temptation to try was overwhelming. How could you not seize the opportunity to work with a character as complex and fascinating as Nicholai Hel? How could you not accept the challenge to create within the parameters of the fascinating plot that Trevanian merely hinted at in Shibumi—a story that begins in Japan, proceeds to China, and then finds its way to Vietnam? Not only did I admire Trevanian’s work, but I also have a great love of Asia, its culture, and history, so the chance to combine those enthusiasms was irresistible.
I sat down and wrote a letter of introduction to the Whitaker family.
They have been nothing short of wonderful.
Alexandra Whitaker has been pitch-perfect in safeguarding her father’s legacy without coming even close to suffocating this nervous writer during his efforts to do the same. She has offered discreet, invaluable counsel, and I truly hope that I have repaid her kindness with quality.
I usually work very much alone—in almost reclusive solitude—but this was a very different experience. In writing Satori, I quickly became aware that I was representing a group of people who were passionately excited and invested in the Hel saga. The aforementioned Messrs. Pine and Carlisle offered crucial critiques and suggestions. Mitch Hoffman, the editor at Grand Central, was an amazingly thoughtful and perceptive contributor. At first I was concerned that I would find all this close attention a bit much. In fact, the opposite was true—conspiring with this team to create a work worthy of Trevanian has been more fun than a writer should be allowed to have.
The work was nevertheless daunting. I had to re-create the Asia of 1951 and ‘52, a research task that was as rewarding as it was enormous. More complex was the challenge of styling a Nicholai Hel that the reader would recognize as the fully formed man of Shibumi while at the same time writing a character who was twenty-six years old—and a neophyte in the world of espionage—at the time of the story. Then there was the task of trying to blend my own voice into that of Trevanian’s, as well as writing to the “corners” of the story that he had left in place.
All of which is to say that I had a wonderful time writing this book. What a gift I was given from a very brief e-mail on a rainy day in Oxford. I hope that I’ve passed even a small part of that on to the reader.
Don Winslow