An Interview with Steve Blinder, Author of the Novel Panga
An Interview with Steve Blinder, Author of the Novel Panga
With the recent surge of smugglers bringing people and drugs onto our California shores in "Pange-Boats", Steve Blinder's new book is both compelling and timely.
Palos Verdes Pulse editor Lianne LaReine sat down with Steve to discuss writing, fear, and his new book.
LLR: Let’s see, you’ve written a play, you’ve won awards for your photography, you’re involved in several businesses and real-estate developments, you’ve traveled on all 7 continents, you’ve given lectures on Drone photography and Elephants in Botswana. And now your second book, PANGA, has just been published…
SB: I guess I’m still trying to figure out what I want to do when I grow up.
LLR: With all the travels… Do you have a favorite place you’ve been to?
SB: That’s a tough one. It’s impossible to rank. I love the differences—experiencing the nuances is what drives me. Whether it’s seeing a jaguar in the wild from a canoe on the border with Peru & Bolivia, or dodging icebergs in a small raft in Antarctica, or playing drums with the Bedouins under a full moon in the Sahara. I like it all.
LLR: You seem to have had a bit of luck with the timing of your first two books. First with The Last City, and now with Panga. It appears you’ve got an uncanny knack for coming out with timely topics.
SB: Well, it’s actually a bit creepy. The Last City is about a gang related murder. But it was very timely with current events in the news so, that stirred up a lot of interest.
LLR: And now, we have Panga boats—almost weekly—landing on our beaches. Sometimes right here in Palos Verdes! They are smuggling people and drugs in from Mexico.
SB: Right. Panga is a work of fiction. At least it started as fiction. Now, it has become very real.
LLR: So, do me a favor, Steve, don’t write a book on the Apocalypse!
SB: It’s a deal!
LLR: I understand your new book deals with, among other things: gangs, guns, blood, boats, drugs, human smuggling & tequila. Sounds like there’s something for everybody.
SB: Yep. What’s not to like?
LLR: Wait - no sex?
SB: Please don’t make me have to issue a spoiler alert.
LLR: Fair enough. I understand you were inspired by the true story of the Halibut.
SB: Right. Pretty tragic story. The Halibut is an 87-foot Coast Guard Cutter. It’s docked right here in Marina Del Rey. They were called out one night to investigate a Panga, suspected of smuggling people and narcotics in from Mexico. On the interdiction, sometime after midnight, off the coast of Santa Cruz Island, things went sideways. The Panga driver ended up murdering one of the officers of the Halibut law enforcement team, Senior Chief Terrell Horne. Incredibly, this incident was the first time a Boarding Officer was killed in U.S. waters since 1927. I had the huge honor of meeting the crew and sailing aboard the Halibut just a few weeks ago.
LLR: Am I correct that you are dedicating your new book to him, to Terrell Horne?
SB: Yes. The Coast Guard has been nothing short of amazing to work with. They know that my book is fiction, but the fact that they are supporting me on the project is incredible. They would like people to understand the intensity of the immigration challenges, along with the difficult job they are tasked to perform. Not only is it a major social issue, especially when considering the plight of the refugees, but, obviously it’s a fairly hot political issue as well. Throw in the way the Coast Guard is instructed to handle these intense situations, understanding that their methods are constantly evolving and changing, and you can see how things can get complicated.
Steve Blinder aboard the USCG Cutter, Halibut
I’ve also had several conversations with members of Officer Horne’s family. They have all told me that they are honored about the book, but, the truth is, the honor of helping keep the memory of Senior Chief Horne alive is all mine. It’s quite humbling for me to feel that I am in a miniscule way, part of his story, as he was a true hero.
Speaking with Officer Fraze on the Panga incident
LLR: What does the writing process look like for you, Steve?
SB: I love the process. I guess I have the opposite of writer’s block. I don’t need to sit in the same spot at the same time each day to be creative or productive. I know this is often recommended by countless successful writers—the regimentation. But, if I sit down in front of the computer, whether it’s 4 in the afternoon, or 4 AM, something generally comes out. For example, I can start by typing, ‘The dog is brown.’ What’s more boring than that, right?
LLR: Pretty basic. Go on…
SB: So, if the next sentence is something like, ‘He had 3 legs,’ then the whole world opens up.
LLR: Oh my. Absolutely right!
SB: I can write about how the dog lost his leg. A fight, a car accident, or he was caught in a bear-trap in the woods…
LLR: I see. So, one creative possibility opens doors to others—with just a couple of carefully chosen words.
SB: Exactly! But the real juice comes when—I feel I’m rolling good—it’s not even me who’s doing the writing. I’m not the creator. It’s more like I’m taking dictation…
LLR: I haven’t heard that before. Tell me more about that…
SB: OK, it’s like there’s this fantastic movie taking place in my brain. And I’m just typing out the story that’s unfolding. And it’s in real time.
LLR: Fascinating. Even dialog?
SB: Especially dialog.
LLR: Do you actually hear voices?
SB: Hah! That’s a question my shrink would ask!
LLR: Sorry.
SB: Not at all. The truth is, sometimes I’ll say it out loud—the dialogue. But I might find myself speaking in tongues. Like a Black gang leader, or a cop. Or a kid—a little Hispanic girl in El Salvador telling her mother she’s afraid to get on the boat.
LLR: Terrific.
SB: So, it’s like I can’t even feel that I should take credit for the writing, as I’m just pressing the ‘record’ button on the tape machine.
LLR: But that tape machine is in your head. You are the creator of the story, aren’t you?
SB: If you say so, I guess. But, the point is—when it’s really rolling good, I hear that little girl. I hear her mother. I see them both and the sea and the color of the boat, and—the pages just start spinning by—there is zero effort. It’s just pouring out.
LLR: Like taking dictation.
SB: Yep. There you go.
LLR: What about an outline?
SB: What’s an outline?
LLR: Very funny.
SB: I do have an idea, where the story is going, of course, but so much of what happens is spontaneous. So often—that I’ve learned to rely on it—if that makes sense.
LLR: It does, but that sounds dangerous.
SB: Ooh! I love that you say that. That just makes me want to do it more!
LLR: In our first long phone conversation, you were talking about Africa. About fear.
SB: Right. There were times when I was truly scared. In Botswana. I was just a few feet from a lion. He kept coming directly toward me. He was a monster—over 400 pounds. And I kept thinking, “This guy is a carnivore. He eats meat! This is how I die.” Two mornings later, it was early, and still dark. I was walking by myself to meet the trackers, and I got way too close to a Hippo. That gets your heart beating.
LLR: I bet it does. In that same conversation, you also talked about the thrill and beauty of swimming with sharks…
SB: Right…
LLR: Do you have a death wish?
SB: Hah! What is it with you and the poignant questions?
LLR: That’s my job!
SB: You’re pretty darn good at it, Lianne.
LLR: Well?
SB: I will say emphatically “No,” to the death wish accusation. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. I have a life wish. And, I’ve learned that without pushing the envelope a bit—taking off in a jeep across the Sahara, or a canoe up the Amazon, or hitchhiking in Honduras, or dodging icebergs in Antarctica—without what we might call a bit of “danger,” then the possibilities without that immersion into these fantastic situations become finite. The possibilities have a ceiling. I guess I don’t like that limiting ceiling. Plus, once you’ve experienced real heart-thumping fear, if you can teleport back to that place, it can be channeled into the writing.
LLR: It seems to have worked for you.
SB: I think it’s too early to tell! I’m just a kid.
LLR: A 66-year-old kid?
SB: Let’s put it this way: If I invite you to my house to sit around the bonfire for a drum circle—you will be asked to leave your weapons—and your cell phone—at the door. Otherwise, the possibilities would be limited.
LLR: Will you invite me to your next drum circle?
SB: Only if you promise…
LLR: To leave my cell phone at the door?
SB: You catch on quick.
LRR: Fantastic stuff. The whole issue with the Pangas is fascinating, and so relevant.
SB: It certainly is. Let’s say one of those Pangas has a dozen people on board. It is staggering to consider how many lives are actually affected by that gut wrenching decision to leave their families behind, be it in Mexico, Honduras, Guatemala, or El Salvador. They leave everything behind, most likely never to return. They board that tiny boat with little more than a dream and a life jacket. And, what happens with the smugglers, or the gang members who are running the operation, in addition to what happens to the refugees, whether they are caught and deported back, or actually make it—to disappear into the promised land of El Norte—of Los Angeles—leads to some pretty mind-boggling ramifications.
LLR: Ramifications not just for them, but for all of us living here in California. It’s quite intriguing. Where does the story start?
SB: It opens in Guatemala. A kid witnesses a murder, and the mother needs to hide him.
LRR: Hence the Panga to the U.S.?
SB: That’s a pretty good guess! Let’s just say I’ve always been attracted to the collision of hope and fear.
LRR: I have a feeling that comes through in your writing. I can’t wait to read it, Steve!
Steve Blinder, Author, Artist, Adventurer, Entrepreneur
Steve Blinder can be reached by email: raindance7@sbcglobal.net
$1.00 of sales from your paperback book purchase will go toward a foundation to support the needs of slain Coast Guard Officer Terrell Horne’s son, Wells.
Related Articles
