Welcome to BookView Interview, a conversation series where BookView talks to authors.

Recently, we talked to D. C. Martin about his writing and his recently published novel, Hindsight is 2020, a powerfully rendered tale that delves into choices made in a single moment, the bonds of family and their lasting impact, and the haunting nature of betrayal and revenge on one’s life. (Read the review here).

What is Hindsight is 2020 about?

That’s a great question, but also a pretty tough one. I remember the first time somebody asked me that and I was like, “What do you mean, what is it about?” I guess I didn’t really think about what the book was about while I was writing it. When I was promoting it, sure. But after people started reading it, I started asking them that same question. It was much easier for them to answer because they had some critical distance from it.

So it’s about this guy, Gerry McLean, around 70, who’s got a plan. A plan to fix everything, but he’s really conflicted about it. He feels trapped by circumstances, like he is forced into doing it. The other characters too, they’re all trapped in different ways. Throughout the book, Gerry’s filled with doubt, not only about his plan but about himself. The reader doesn’t really know what the plan is or what his motivation is until he arrives at this one critical moment. Then everything makes sense to him and we understand his motivation. I like to call it a family saga that reads like suspense. It has six parts that are all very different, but they act like individual puzzle pieces. They help you to see the whole picture at the end of the story.

Which is supposed to mirror life, living through loss. You don’t really get to see the whole picture of someone, and once they’re gone, all you have to piece it together is pictures and letters and memories. And stories. That’s part of what grief is. Accepting that.

Why did you write it?

In 2020 everything in my life just seemed to fall apart. My parents died and I became really worried about the rest of my family. It felt like I couldn’t control anything and I went to a really dark place. I started reading all the time because it was an escape. But my thoughts eventually invaded books too, and I would need to go back, maybe 20 pages, over and over again. I just couldn’t focus. But I could write, and I could control my writing. I could fix it. Even if it wasn’t perfect, I could control it. I could make it whatever I wanted.

I didn’t think it would ever be a book, I just wanted to keep going and see how far I could take it.

You dedicated this book to your parents. What kind of influence did they have on you as a writer?

Everything, really. They always wanted me to write. Even when I was a kid. I wrote this “book” when I was in grade 4, maybe. They got it all typed-up and made spiral-bound copies of it and gave it out to their friends and neighbours. They were so proud of me. Even though, looking back on it, it was just a silly 20-page story.

My father was a professor, so he wrote academic stuff all the time, but he really wanted to write fiction. One day, a few months before he died, he told me that he wanted to write a novel. I think it would have been really great, and I would’ve loved to read it. Maybe if he had more time, he could have finished it.

My mother wrote some short stories and they were brilliant. After she died I typed them up and really loved reading them. I’m so glad I have them. She also had a book published in Swahili.

Is there anyone else who influenced you?

Absolutely. My wife listened to me talk about writing this novel for years. She convinced me to actually get started, so I finally did. Of course, I wrote it during the pandemic, thinking that: “If I don’t do this now, I never will.” Once I started I became absolutely obsessed with it. I couldn’t wait to get back to it and add ideas. Every night I would add pages and pages. I would get her to read paragraphs or chapters or even whole drafts and she was encouraging, but also brutally honest. Like, “You need to take this part out.” Or, “Why do you use the word ‘revere’ so often?” Or “You’ve got to change that character’s name.” She reads constantly, so she knows what she’s talking about. I followed through with all of her suggestions.

Also, there are a lot of positive traits in some of my characters that are really like her. Sometimes, I’m describing a character and it’s really her. Part of writing the book was figuring out a way to express how much I love her.

Hindsight has multiple settings. Do they reflect lived experiences for you?

I’ve travelled a lot and it has really shaped the person I am. My father often took sabbaticals and brought the family with him, so as I was growing up, I got used to moving around. Somehow my memories of childhood swirl together, but I’ve got these indelible bits from Tanzania, and I wanted to explore them in the book.

I taught English in Korea, too. That part of the book, “Youth in Asia”, I actually wrote that part in one sitting. In maybe 3 hours. I really didn’t edit it too much, either. It was like it just poured out of me and I just tried to keep up with the typing. Looking back on it, I wonder if I had that idea for a while, some subconscious thing. So there is definitely some lived experience that went into it. I think that makes it feel real, like it’s authentic.

What was the hardest thing about writing your book?

Letting it go. When I was writing it, and revising It, I would get little ideas and think: “I’m going to put this in the book.” I like to run, and while I’m running, I have my best ideas. I’d get home and just pound them into my phone. I did that the whole time I was writing it. But once it’s published, it’s just so permanent. I still have ideas, of course, but they can’t go in. I guess that’s for the next book. But I often pick it up and check things, like, did that make sense? Did I use that word correctly? But there’s some sort of weird comfort in knowing that it’s done, that it’s permanent and that I can’t change it.

Will you write another book?

Sure, I guess. This book; I had to write this book. And I had to write it when I did. It saved me. It made me realise my purpose in life and it helped me find a way back to it. I nearly lost myself and it made me focus on who I was and what I cared about. I don’t know if I’ll feel that same certainty again, the certainty I needed. I’ve been writing a bit here and there since then, but I’m not ready to go through all that again yet. It was a lot, really. Emotionally, it took everything out of me, so I’m not sure I’m going to get back there, unless writing becomes something different, or I become something different. I want to, but I’m not ready, if that makes sense.

I’m going to need to feel ready.

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