Interview Frederick L. Malphurs Author of Dr. Fox
Give a warm welcome to Frederick L. Malphurs, author of A Year in the Life of Dr. Fox.
Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cooler, a Chocolate Chip or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about Frederick L. Malphurs and his book A Year In the Life of Dr. Fox.
What defines you as an author? As a person? Are they one in the same? I am interested in nearly everything: people, places, situations, issues. Probably the same thing that defines me as an author is true of me as a person.
What inspired this particular story? As a child I watched the Disney television series, later as an adult, in El Fuerte, Mexico, in the hotel courtyard there was a nearly full size statue of Zorro which instantly rekindled my interest in Zorro and in writing a novel on same which as the original Zorro is trademarked protected, the story had to move away from the television and movie Zorro and it did.
What secret do you use to blast through writer’s block? I am lucky in that I have not experienced writer’s block, at least as I understand it. I am more on the opposite side, writing away on stuff that will need to be heavily edited or placed in a deep pending file.
Who is your favorite character of all of the books you’ve written and Why? Meanie Mouse. We need a woman superhero who isn’t bulletproof and uses her intellect and personal sense of right and wrong to at least try to make things right.
What inspired you to write? A lot of reading, probably, and then something popped inside my head.
How long have you been writing? In my first career as a health care manager and then executive, I wrote a lot of business related stuff: memos, case studies, investigations, reports, etc. But, that job was so demanding, I had little time to write fiction, I would start, have to stop, and months might go by before I got back to it.
Did you tell friends and family that you were writing a book? Or did it take a while to come out and tell friends and family you were a writer? I was totally open about it.
Do you see yourself in your characters? Yes, health care management and a mostly disfunctional family life while growing up gave me a lot of characters, a daily view of behavioral health issues, the variation of the human experience and intellect, etc. which I realized was a rich source of material for writing.
What do you want your readers to take away from your books? That reading my books was worth the experience. Then maybe, some reflection on what things are as they are and how society could be improved.
Where do your story ideas come from? If they come to you in the middle of the night, do you get up and write them all down? From my life experiences, my dreams are mostly about missed airplane connections, late to meetings, and that sort of thing. Many years ago, I tried to wake up and write down ideas that occurred to me in the middle of the night. Those notes invariably were jibberish, which I suppose is a sign of the state of my mind during the night.
If writing is your first passion, what is your second? Physical fitness. After a lifetime of work which involved multiple meetings on a daily basis, raising a family, and running for airplanes, physical fitness did not get done, so now I go to the gym four or five times a week, most of the time.What do you like to do when you are not writing? Reading, some travel, watching major sports events such as Gator football and basketball games, the Masters, the Superbowl, etc.
You’ve got a time machine, a cloak of invisibility, and one hour. Where would you go, and what eavesdropping would you do? I would go to the White House, any President, wander around, and most importantly try to listen to every word.
A Peek Between the Page of A Year in the Life of Dr. Fox.
An Untimely Arrest, January 5
Father Teodoro de la Vega was sitting in an ancient wooden swivel chair, working on revisions to his doctoral thesis Methodism in America, when he heard the soft buzzing of his cell phone. He picked up the phone, swiveling his chair around before he spoke to look out the high tiny window in his cramped office at the far end of the Culiacan Cathedral. “This is Father De La Vega.”
“This is Lieutenant Flores of the federal police. We are trying to notify the family of Diego Sanchez. He has you listed as the family contact.”
Father Teodoro’s eyes stayed fixed on the fronds of the tall palm tree growing in the cathedral’s backyard. “Yes, I am Diego’s brother-in-law. How can I help?”
“I am sorry to inform you that your sister’s husband, Diego Sanchez, was arrested this morning and is currently being held in custody in Culiacan prison.” The lieutenant sounded subdued, deferential to the Catholic priest, sympathetic.
Father Teo was silent for several moments. “Oh my God, this is a shock. My sister was kidnapped three days ago, on January 2. She and Diego have three young children, and now this.” Father Teo sighed deeply and made the sign of the cross.
“I know about the kidnapping. I am so sorry. It seems your family is suddenly confronting great adversity. I can assure you that all the police agencies are working diligently to find your sister.”
Father Teo took several deep breaths before responding. “Would it be possible for me to go see Diego now?”
Lieutenant Flores was silent a moment. “Yes, under the circumstances, I’m sure there must be many arrangements to be made for the children. I will contact the prison and get your visit authorized.”
Father Teo stood up, suddenly feeling dazed; his jaw clenched as his eyes riveted on the small statue of Jesus he kept on his desk. “I am on my way to the prison now.” He next forced himself to call his brother, Eduardo, and their father, Alfonso. He quickly concluded each call with “I’ll call you back as soon as I learn anything.”
Father Teo quickly jogged down the hall and across the cathedral campus to his car. Outside, he stood beside his car and gazed upward for several moments, praying for his sister, Diego, and their children. Then he got into his battered Toyota and headed to the prison.
Father Teo sat in the visitors’ waiting room for thirty minutes before the guards escorting Diego burst through the door on the prisoners’ side.
They pushed Diego ahead of them and roughly shoved him into a chair. One of them said, “Sit down and shut up!” to Diego and waved a finger under Diego’s nose. Father Teo moved quickly to the cubicle opposite Diego and sat on the hard plastic chair in the narrow enclosure.
“Teo, tell me about my family.” Diego was somber and seemed to have physically shrunk since the last time Teo had seen him only three days before.
Diego’s usual state of casual good humor had been replaced with a pallid and tense facial expression. His eyes were tearing and moved only indirectly in the direction of Father Teo; he could not maintain eye contact for more than a moment. His eyes, now dark and sunken, slowly roamed the brightly lit room: floor, walls, ceiling, Father Teo.
“We have had no contact with Tina’s kidnappers. We are doing everything we can to find her. Eduardo and I are moving heaven and earth to find her.
The kids miss her and are understandably upset. How are you?”
“I am depressed as hell. I’m scared out of my mind. I am so grateful to you and Eduardo.” Diego dipped his head and nervously checked the position of the guards. “Please do everything you can to get these charges dropped and get me out of here somehow.”
“Of course you are depressed. Anyone would be in these circumstances.
My father is talking to lawyers right now. Your arrest has come as a complete shock to all of us.”
“I am embarrassed and stunned by my arrest too, Teo. Please tell my mother and the children that I love them, but I do not want them to come here. Seeing me in this place will only make things worse for them. Have you learned anything about the charges against me?”
Father Teo chewed on his lip. He hesitated while a myriad of happy family memories flooded his thinking: Diego and Tina’s wedding, the births of their three children, and many family gatherings. “You are accused and charged with consorting with narco-criminals by laundering their illegal earnings, aiding the cartel’s hit men by providing them with shelter, engaging in a criminal conspiracy, and accepting financial assistance from the Pacific cartel. I’m still in shock, Diego. I don’t understand this. Is any of it true?”
Diego squirmed in his seat and dropped his head to the Formica countertop of the little booth. “Oh my god,” he said this loudly, and the nearest prisoners on Diego’s side of the barrier turned in his direction. When he sat back up straight, his hands clutched his heart. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
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Posted in Authors' Secrets Blog and tagged Adventure, Dr. Fox, fiction, Frederick L. Malphurs, Thriller by Tena Stetler with 3 comments.
