If you’ve read any of the numerous works written by Barry Hoffman, then you already know there’s a few boxes you can count on checking off when reading him. Ruthless, complex villain with at least a few sympathetic qualities? Check. Spotlighting controversial issues in today’s society that demands the attention they seldom get? Check. A page-turning thriller fueled by relatably flawed main characters committed to the justice they seek despite the risks? Check again.
You can also expect a modest infusion of the supernatural sprinkled throughout Hoffman’s work, which he uses to syphon the inner most thoughts and fears of characters to the surface, adding to the intensity of the already dangerous games they’re forced to play. Reincarnate, published by Cemetery Dance Publications, is a worthy addition to Hoffman’s library of work, and can easily be considered among his best.
In a nutshell, the story plants us alongside Asha, a young black woman working a dead-end job as a restaurant server. Her abundance of smarts is in stark contrast with her lack of plans or hope for the future other than wanting a bit more purpose and excitement in her otherwise mundane life. Careful what you wish for because, as it would turn out, Asha couldn’t have guessed her closing shift would lead to her being tied up in the basement of a man with one unusual requirement: For her, and all the ones before her, to be Celeste, the beloved wife the man had lost to one of the most tragic events to occur on American soil. With no options except to adapt or die at the hands of this unhinged man, Asha would need to tap into survival instincts she wasn’t sure she had if there was to be any hope of survival, let alone escape from the hell she was trapped within. Thanks to Celeste’s sporadic visits from beyond the grave, Asha learns as much as she can about the dead woman and her tumultuous, intriguing life and the secrets she kept. It wasn’t good enough to just talk and act like Celeste. Aha would need to embody Celeste in body, mind and spirit and wear the dead woman’s full identity like a skin or die like all the others.
Reincarnate is not your typical survival story about a helpless marginalized woman’s propensity to adapt to a cruel world. Hoffman has no use for such universal themes. Instead, the author puts his focus on dissecting the complexities of a cruel and broken world where heroes and monsters are as interchangeable as the circumstances which drive them, each with their own unique strengths and vulnerabilities. And, with a compact length of 168 pages, expect little room for catching your breath until you’ve put the book aside and can ponder the world you just experienced.
It has always been an pleasure to sit down with Hoffman, former inner city school teacher and current publisher for the award-winning specialty press, Gauntlet Press, and this conversation was no exception. Here, we dissect the author’s philosophy, approach and intent for telling the type of stories that so many others struggle simply to acknowledge, which may in fact be one of the gravest horrors of all.
(Interview conducted by Rick Hipson)
CEMETERY DANCE: Barry, considering several years separates this story from when you first wrote it to when readers get to read it — there’s even a reference to the 9/11 tragedy — what are your thoughts to how the story holds up now when you recall the state of your mind and the world between then and now?
BARRY HOFFMAN: I didn’t write the novella anywhere near 9/11. I often write my stories based on current events. At the time of 9/11 I was in no mood to write anything. The tragedy was hard to digest and our response was also disturbing. I wrote the story about 5-6 years ago. While the events of 9/11 are pivotal, the story doesn’t focus on the attack. The story itself holds up well even if you change 9/11 to another event (say floods which have ravaged part of the US in 2025 or a hurricane).
Indeed, one of the things I find most interesting in your storytelling is that you always have a significant statement about society, particularly women’s rights, without it feeling so heavy-handed that it distracts from the story itself. Is walking the line between making a statement that resonates and producing an entertaining book as much of a challenge as it seems, at least to me?
I’ve been exposed to women most of my adult life. As a 5th/6th grade teacher I found the girls in my class had distinct personalities. The boys were more like pieces of clay who hadn’t yet developed unique personalities. Many of my students came from single family homes (many being raised by grandmothers) so I was surrounded by women with differing personalities and ages. I have two daughters (one son) and my granddaughter whom I helped raise. So, writing from a female point of view wasn’t difficult. I immerse myself in my characters to portray three-dimensional female characters … warts and all. Actually it’s the character flaws and development that most intrigues me.
And as for the deeper meaning of this story, taking a character like Asha, a street-smart victim of a hard knock life and empowering her to become the confident, boundary pushing woman that is Celeste, what can you share about what may have inspired or influenced such a character arc?
I’ve done that with all the female characters I’ve created. In Reincarnate, Asha had to become Celeste to survive. She was well aware that her captor had killed other women who could not become Celeste. I helped her along with a bit of the supernatural. She actually met the real Celeste in flashbacks which gave her insight into the original Celeste. It was a tightrope she had to walk. The smallest error on her part could mean her death. Over the course of the book she was able to gain a level of control without abandoning the women she had to impersonate.
Of course, a strong heroine, no matter how anti-heroine they may be, is only as good as a strong counterpoint adversary. You certainly give us that with Asha’s captor and wannabe saviour, a deeply disturbed man with an obvious penitent for violence yet not without aspects begging for our sympathies. What can you tell us about developing your villain and why it’s important to create such a complicated bad man?
I don’t view the villain of my novels to be completely evil. I flush out my villains via flashbacks to show what pushed them to commit vile acts. Think of policemen. Most often start out as noble enforcers of the law. Some, though, give in to temptation. They might take some of the money found in the home of a homicide victim. Others accept a bribe. Once these cops cross the line it becomes easier to do it again and even up the ante. I do the same with my villains. With one exception my antagonists weren’t born bad, but due to childhood abuse or a calamitous event become evil. I find that too many writers create a villain on page one but never explore why that person commits heinous deeds. That’s the easy way out. I want to engender some sympathy for my villains or at least let the reader know why my antagonist acts the way he/she does.
As with many of your stories, such as with your “Eyes” series, you also incorporate a touch of supernatural. Reincarnate is no exception, but I wonder if it was always the plan to use this supernatural approach. I think it would have been difficult to tell this particular story without it, so can you tell us if this element was always a part of the manuscript and if its incorporation into the story changed much with however many drafts the story may have gone through?
I have a rough outline where my stories will go. But as I begin writing I deviate from my original plan. In Reincarnate I felt I needed some connection between Asha and the original Celeste. That’s where the idea for the supernatural came from. How could these two meet to provide clues for Asha to impersonate the original Celeste? I didn’t plan it as part of the original story but the idea came to me and I ran with it. That’s the thrill when writing a novel. It takes months and new ideas take hold.
To me, the supernatural element came across like a sort of self-manifested guide that Asha carried with her in her deep subconscious. Or am I looking at it the wrong way from how you envisioned Asha’s ghostly guide?
No, it was more like the original Celeste was trying to help Asha survive from the beyond. Celeste had been a decent person and was probably horrified that her death resulted in so many other deaths. In Asha she found a kindred spirit, of sorts, who could successfully use the clues she provided. It’s inferred that she met other women who failed to become “Celeste” and paid with their lives.
The arc of Asha is far from a conventional one. If anything, her potentially redemptive crossroads could be described as more of a collision course with an even greater destructive agenda than when we first meet her as the vulnerable victim. Why was this particular path for Asha important for you to explore the way you did here?
Just as my villains have redeeming qualities, my protagonists are not solely heroic. Deep within Asha there is a darkness she had to tap into to survive. Celeste helped bring the darkness to the surface. The newspaper stories Celeste wrote spoke to Asha. Asha wanted justice for those Celeste wrote about but had evaded justice. Having been held hostage for a prolonged period also brought her darkness to the surface. She may have started out full of innocence but both her captivity and what Celeste wrote about changed her. Think of kidnap victims. The longer they are with their captor the more they change. Therapy can help (once rescued) but there are some who can’t be fully cured of the horrors of captivity.
When you are writing that complex, sympathetic villain so that they come off more realistically human and interesting, do you think it’s possible to make them too sympathetic? While I found our villain here to be very well balanced and fascinating, and certainly pushing some moral boundaries, has it ever been challenging for you to not overplay the sympathetic card? Can you think of any instances where you came across a villain that was robbed of greatness because they were written a bit too likeable or easy to feel sorry for?
When creating my villains while I want them to be somewhat sympathetic they have crossed a line to become vile. So, no, in creating their backstory I don’t try to make the villain “too sympathetic.” I first create the heinous character and then work on the backstory. But I never forget that this character is horrendous and don’t want to make him/her overly sympathetic. The closest I’ve drawn the line is with Shanicha in Born Bad. She was born a crack baby which ruled her life. I’ve actually written an unpublished novella which provides more of her backstory. She’s still evil, but not completely unredeemable. In Born Bad she totally crosses the line.
I’m going to back peddle here a bit in case readers start thinking of Asha as a one-dimensional character who simply goes from a vulnerable young woman in a dead-end job to some kind of unhinged vigilante, which is obviously an oversimplification that hardly does her character justice. You’ve also created for Asha the subplot of embodying Celeste’s old job as a reporter, a job that demands a certain hard-headed determination and not a small amount of street-smart savviness. I’m curious if you drew from any real world experiences or research to build this multifaceted and complex character that is Asha/Celest with whom we can cheer on just as easily as we can question her propensity for violence?
I equate Asha to a war correspondent. These men and women experience the horrors of war — some in numerous conflicts. It has to change them. I think it’s the same for someone who has been held captive. And, it’s definitely akin to someone who has been raped. A victim of rape, regardless of the therapy she undergoes, is forever changed. And, think of all of those assaulted who never go to the police or a therapist. They are never the same. Asha has not only been held captive but she must mimic Celeste completely to survive. Think of the stress she must endure and you can see how she changes and understand why she is not the Asha we met early in the story.
Thanks to the ultra-realism of your storytelling style, Barry, readers are generally left imagining how your stories might go on beyond the final page. Afterall, real life goes on, and you often leave your stories with an organic, ambiguous sense of continuation for better or worse. If you can answer this without giving away spoilers, how do you see the world of Asha going on? Will we get to explore more of Asha within other stories of yours?
Most of my stories don’t have a finite conclusion. In Born Bad I created one of my favorite villains and killed her off at the end. Years later I regretted that decision. I have since written a prequel so I can visit Shanicha again. But I did learn not to kill my villains in case I wanted to revisit them. In this case I don’t see a vehicle to revisit Asha. In Reincarnate I’ve already told the story of her captivity and how, at the end, she voluntarily goes back to her captor (on her own terms, mind you). I’d rather create a new character with a new backstory than write a sequel to Reincarnate. And I like to leave it to the reader to imagine what might occur next. I’m not a tie-it-all-together author. I want the reader to dwell on what could occur next.
Knowing Asha may still be out there living her life, seeking out justice on her terms, what would you say to her if given the chance to do so?
I’d root for her to continue her vigilante ways. I don’t want her to become like her captor and kidnap and kill young women. But, there are many injustices that go unpunished and I wouldn’t discourage her. I would want her to maintain her humanity and not go off the deep end, but there are many injustices she can investigate. And, yes, in these cases she is judge, jury and executioner.
And finally, Barry, what would you consider as mission accomplished as far as Reincarnate’s lasting impact on readers?
First, I’d like them to enjoy the story. I want them to better understand Asha’s captor. He’s not your typical villain. And, I would hope they would wonder (and even plot out in their minds) what Asha will tackle next. I’d also like the reader to consider the cost of victimization. On too many television shows, if the victim is saved the cop says that with help he/she will recover. That’s an empty platitude. Victims can be helped but the trauma experience never entirely leaves. That’s what I want my readers to think about.
Reincarnate is sold out at Cemetery Dance. To order the last remaining books direct from the author, email Barry at [email protected].
For more news and updates from Barry Hoffman, visit him online.
