Interview with Author Zak Keith

Zak was recently interviewed by author Michael Reilly about the writing of his book
My Life as a Squint-Eyed Chink
(republished by permission)

MR: Zak, I’ve recently read your book, My Life as a Squint-Eyed Chink, and I have to say, first of all, that it’s amazing that you lived through all you described, and yet here you are in your right mind and able to talk about your experiences so lucidly and eruditely—almost poetically. I mean, it reads effortlessly. At times, the way you describe some really serious stuff had me laughing out loud. I think you called it black humor. Yet I’m imagining it must have taken you years to process some of that trauma and been a pretty painful process?

Zak: Hmm ... I just got real skilled at moving on from those issues I guess, leaving the past behind. The survival mechanisms of a child are just amazing. I think how you look at life as an adult, at your past, affects the way you feel about yourself in the present. It affects your future, your whole outlook on life. So if you’ve had a really horrible past, and you can’t undo the fact that very bad things happened to you, you can at least choose to look at it differently, from another angle perhaps, another perspective, maybe humorously if nothing else. And if you can at least look at it humorously, then you’ve won, you’ve transcended! You’ve definitely won!

MR: No kidding!

Zak: They say the best revenge is to live well. Then the people who’ve tried to harm you haven’t succeeded, in doing any lasting damage, that is. It’s never funny when it’s happening to you, but years later, you can actually say, “I choose not to let you hurt me. You’ve hurt me in the past, but I’m not going to let what you did have power over me now.”

MR: Yes, well, I can see why, as you were mentioning earlier, that you’ve received letters from total strangers who’ve been through actually quite dissimilar experiences, but dysfunctional in their own manner, and they resonate in a deep way with what you’ve written. How long did it take you to write your book, incidentally?

Zak: Ha! That’s my most frequently-asked question. Seven weeks! But I always say, “THAT was the easy part!”

MR: What? That’s it? All the footnotes and historical research in the back of the book too?

Zak: Yes footnotes and all. It actually took six weeks, but I had to have a break for a week, when I couldn’t decide if I really wanted to continue, if I really wanted to put all this stuff out there about my family, about myself. A lot of it, the footnotes, was to cover my behind, because I was saying so many controversial things, bringing together so many unpopular little-known facts of history: “I didn’t say it, he did. He said it first!” And after the writing there was the writing about my writing, composing picture-perfect letters to publishers and agents hoping to sell my book, working with editors and all.

MR: Okay, I see. But the book itself was written in six weeks? Was that because you spent so many years thinking over and psychoanalyzing all your experiences?

Zak: Hmm! I think I had been doing a lot of “homework” processing things, yeah. But I’ve been told by a lot of people that I tend to see things rather clearly in myself and others, what’s going on inside them, what’s really happening; that I’m able to put words to what I’m going through myself. I have a lot of female friends, and some of them have said, “For a guy, you sure can talk about emotions easily.” That’s my feminine side showin’ up I guess. [Laughs]

MR: Can we talk about your mother? She figures very large in your life. From what you wrote, she did some pretty horrid things to you. The scene from the Post Office stands out in my mind. I mean, that’s straight out of Charles Dickens! And it happened in England, no less. What have people’s reactions been when they read that?

Zak: I haven’t had any feedback from anyone to that one specifically, just to the whole thing, about how my life has been pretty hard, unconventional, or disturbing even, heartbreaking.

MR: Your mother disowning you and banishing you from your own home and the years of being forced to be something you weren’t. I mean, all that was less violent than the Post Office beating, but was it, like, more damaging or less damaging?

Zak: I don’t know. No more or less damaging, I guess. The beating was just part of the whole thing. It came with the set. [laughs] Believe me, that was one of many many incidents, but I couldn’t possibly put them all into the book.

MR: Yet you have apparently forgiven her and though I don’t get the sense that you minimize what she did, you seem to have put the past to rest and even to accept her and love her.

Zak: [Sighs] Yeah.... yeah I did forgive her, and learn to appreciate what little good she did. I told her once, when I was trying to make peace with her, “You never let us go hungry...”

MR: I’m sorry. Do you have any idea how that sounds? Mothers are supposed to feed their children, among other things! It sounds like you lowered the bar so that...

Zak: [laughs] Maybe I did. But that wasn’t all she did for me. I also told her that she taught me that where there was a will there was a way. There were no obstacles for her, nothing could get in her way. Whatever she wanted, she set a course and headed straight for it. She taught me, showed me by example, to be independent, to stand on my own, find my own way in life.

MR: But it seems that the main theme of your book is how she tried to force you to “be Chinese” against your will—being denied the right to be who you really were.

Zak: You can’t have it both ways, I guess. “Me, I’m independent. But you son, do as I say, not as I do.” She was a mess, to say the least, but she did move herself ahead in life, and she always got what she wanted. She was used to making things work for her. I guess I, we, her children, were all just a part of that. She just decided how things were going to be, and went for it, commanding us to toe the line. I think I became a bit like that myself, towards myself too. I just decided what I was going to do with myself, or who the new “me” would be, and went for it. I kind of did what my mother was trying to do to me, but in my own way. And problem is, we all decided to follow her fine example and go our own way too. Karmic parallels is one of the themes in my book!

MR: I realize that. There are many themes in your book, and I’m amazed at how you’ve managed to weave them all together, but what I mean is, the very title of your book is My Life as a Squint-Eyed Chink.

Zak: Yes, all my life, I’ve had to explain myself, because of my looks. The title was actually from something that happened on a couple of occasions. [On one of them] a drunk Royal Marine said that to me when I was in a bar in Hong Kong: “You’re cool, mate! Fer being a squint-eyed chink, yer bloody alright, mate! I mean you may be a slant-eyed, yellow...” At which point his mates stepped in and apologized on his behalf, and took him out of the bar!

MR: The way you write, at times I could almost swear I was watching a movie. How did you learn to write?

Zak: I didn’t. Never did. I never thought of myself as a writer. Still don’t. In the course of my work I was always trying to explain things in ways people could understand, in understandable terms, and in the course of doing that, I was told I was a good writer. I even had several professional-writer friends tell me I was a good. But I didn’t believe it for the longest. I mean I still don’t think of myself as a writer; just as someone who has written and writes. [laughs] I set out to tell my crazy tale, to explain a very complex story in understandable ways, and in the course of doing it had to learn all about writing a book.

MR: So you were self-taught in all your professions—guitar, computer programming, you name it?

Zak: Pretty much. I dropped out of school by 15. I only had one single guitar lesson in my whole life, and it was an advanced lesson by the virtuoso Tommy Emmanuel. It took me years before I could play what he showed me. But then—

MR: Sorry to interrupt, but I think one thing readers would find so amazing—I know I did—was how you had so little schooling, yet managed to become an expert in three, what I would consider, very difficult professions. Do readers comment on that? Do you get people saying, “Wow! If he can land on his feet after all that and succeed, that gives me hope?”

Zak: Three? Well I don’t know if I’m an expert in anything, but I’m somewhat good at two things: computers and music. I’m not fishing for a compliment, but I mean it: I don’t tend to think of myself as an expert, more of a smarty-pants. Jack of all trades, master of none. [Laughs]

MR: OK let’s put it this way: you are paid, or have been paid good money for what you do?

Zak: Uh-oh! People will be lining up to sue me for their money back now! [Laughs] Yes, money is always up and down for a musician, but with IT work, at one point I was paid top dollar. At one point I was flying to London to train technicians, doing day trips to different countries in Europe to supervise software development, having my ideas challenged by 150 technicians in a conference room, everyone of them experts in their own right, everyone with their hand raised. It was a bit tricky when I was working alongside Harvard or MIT graduates and they’d ask over lunch where I’d gone to school, but yeah, I tried not to let on that most of my computer knowledge was pretty much self-acquired.

MR: And your crash came after your rise to success.

Zak: Yes. I would be an IT-mangement consultant on weekdays and a musician on weekends. It got a bit much when some musician would call up on a Wednesday afternoon about some score for the 3rd horn part while I was busy in the office, or when I was soundchecking on a Saturday afternoon and someone would call about a Powerpoint presentation for Monday. I had ulcers in the end and had to quit. Of course it didn’t help that I was in an unhealthy relationship at the time. It wasn’t exactly uplifting. My life was a mess but I didn’t know it. And thats where my story begins, with the mess I was in. It’s a messy tale about my messy life.

MR: But you have to admit, whether you set out to write an inspirational story or not, you’ve done it. And maybe that’s part of what so many readers identify with, besides the abuse and search for identity that you describe.

Zak: Yes, it was unexpected. I did know I was sitting on a very unusual story about a very crazy life and unusual family of mine... I just set out to put it all into words, and somehow people are telling me I’ve helped them. To be honest, I don’t really understand it. But there is this consistent feedback: “You’ve helped me put things in perspective.” I know I had some deep thoughts, philosophizing, but I didn’t set out to help anyone, just... tell my story, share my thoughts maybe... maybe about how I crawled out of the hole I was in...

MR: But the crash you describe taught you to re-prioritize your life, become less materialistic—sort of like a spiritual awakening?

Zak: I don’t think it did that. This spiritual part of me was always around, lurking, waiting to take over my life. And for a few years it did. What the crash did though was make me aware I had been running away from myself, distracting myself by being busy; partying hard, playing hard, anything but have a quiet moment where I’d have to think about my life and how I was really feeling, how alone I really was. I was surrounding myself with people when what I really needed was healthy barriers, time alone. I lost so much in my life because I wasn’t taking care of me.

MR: And spiritually, how would you describe yourself these days?

Zak: I’m more settled in my soul. Not as restless. I enjoy my own company more. I’m still ecletic. I still believe in shooting for the stars, in daring to dream.

MR: Is music still important to you?

Zak: Hell yes! I’m playing 7 months a year, going on tours throughout Europe! Gonna play Monte Carlo in the fall! Playing anything from Jazz to Hard Rock to Reggae.

MR: That’s great! Do you sell CDs?

Zak: Interestingly, no! [sighs] I’ve played on other people’s records but I haven’t gotten around to producing my own! Well it’s in the works. I promise! Maybe next year. Who knows?

MR: Another thing I wanted to mention about your book: your plot seems to flow so smoothly with characters arriving at the funeral site as if on cue to pay their respects and send you reeling with new bits of information about your mother’s past, your father’s past, your family secrets—and it all builds up to a climax—that I had to keep reminding myself that it was a true story. Is it a true story? All of it? Most of it? Would it pass the Oprah test? [Laughs] Or have the names been changed to protect the innocent?

Zak: It really is a true story. Fact can be stranger than fiction, as the cliché goes. It’s like the Kruggerand, as I put in the forward section—at least 91% pure. None of the characters are composites, but I did change their names. The only thing I did was move conversations around a little, and I combined two trips into one single trip to simplify the story.

MR: I see. But the Post Office beating, the neglect, the electrocution, having spies as renters, your father’s involvement in SE-Asian espionage—that all happened?

Zak: Absolutely. All of that happened to me exactly as I wrote. And the stuff about my father and background was as much as I could figure out from all the documents I’d found and from all the people I’d met and talked to. I took the time to look into it all carefully before putting it into the book.

MR: Yes, I gathered that from the pictures and the detailed historical notes in the back of the book. You’re a stickler for details. So have you had offers to make your story into a movie?

Zak: None so far. Have you got any leads for me? Nah, I don’t know if it’ll ever get that far. You’re joking, of course?

MR: No. It’s a serious question. I ask that, because, like I say, reading your book felt very much like watching a movie. Or at least I kept thinking, “This would make a great Broadway play!”

Zak: Hmmm... well I did collect a few comments along those lines too. Well, ya never know! Let’s see how far the book gets first!

MR: Any reactions about your book from Chinese zealous about their language or culture who were offended by your views?

Zak: Oh not yet. They will be. Just give ’em time, wait for the word to get out! I know of one British Chinese actress who checked out my web site, and corrected me on some details which concerned her, which she felt might have misrepresented the actual situation. You know how I’d been writing about how the Chinese have been in Britain for 323 years, so get used to it, and so on? And I mentioned some prominent Chinese Brits and how they haven’t always had a fair deal, and she was one of them. I think she thinks I’m on the right track, but just wanted to correct a minor inaccuracy on my part and let the facts speak for themselves.

MR: No threatening letters from Jackie Chan? [Laughs] You know, after his recent comments about “the Chinese need to be controlled.”

Zak: God! He said that? In what context?

MR: Something about how they can’t handle democracy because they are used to authoritarian rule.

Zak: [laughs] Well, sad to say, there is some truth to that. Democracy as we know it in the West, this Greek ideal, was never espoused the same way over there, and it takes generations of a democratic mindset for there to be any genuine mature democracy happening. What is crazy though, is how pseudo-dictators like Lee of Singapore used that as justification for not really having a “proper” democracy. I still believe in cultivating democracy though, not in relegating people to authoritarianism because of some dumb idea entire populations are permanently hardwired against democracy, genetically or culturally. That’s just a bad excuse of dictatorships justifying their control. And to think Jackie Chan, who enjoys all his freedoms had bought into the party line?

MR: Maybe if they make a movie out of your book, Jackie can play the janitor who ties you to a chair and electrocutes you.

Zak: Ha ha! I would certainly be too democratic and out-of-control for his taste! What, with choosing, actually having the gall to choose to turn my back on my roots, and then eclectically choosing what part of “Chinese” I want to be, and then getting angry with people who mistake me for being Chinese through-and-through because of my looks. I know I’m really not easy to understand!

MR: Well, we’re getting a bit off our topic here. I have to tell you, I’m normally a Chan fan. I love his movies. But back to your book—or should I say, people’s reactions to it. Were you surprised at how readers have reacted?

Zak: Yes! I was just trying to tell my story. I expected them to say, “Wow! Crazy Life!” or friends to say, “Now I understand you better.” But what I got was people, industry professionals telling me it was actually some really good writing, as in technically. Or readers saying I’ve helped them find answers, that I’ve touched something in them and made them grow, that what I wrote was healing...

MR: What surprised you the most?

Zak: I don’t know... everything I mentioned... that I’m a considered good writer! That there are so many people out there who are going, “Gosh, I’ve been through similar things, but these are things so painful that people don’t normally want to talk about them. They’d rather die than shame themselves.” That there is so much abuse out there happening in secret. It’s more widespread than you’d think.

MR: I see. So you’ve sort of given a voice to that issue. And do you feel like an “expert?”

Zak: No! Never. As a fellow human being, one who’s suffered too... just as a fellow journeyman through life.

MR: So for you personally, what were the benefits of writing your story? Therapy? A sense of closure or—?

Zak: It’s off my chest! It’s out of mind. My crazy story! Can you imagine when the thousand-piece puzzle came together in an instant, when my mother died and I found out all these things about her, about her past, about my father, his past, about my grandfather, my great grand uncle, my ancestry, myself? It was mind-boggling. And I had to live with it. I get that comment a lot too: “Oh it must have been such great therapy for you to write it.” But if there was any therapeautic value I wasn’t aware of it. I think I got to the point where I’d already sorted myself out by the time I decided to write. The clarity was there because the homework was already done. The closure had already been acheived.

MR: Yes. And speaking of closure, I notice that—and this is probably because it’s a true story, not a work of fiction, and things don’t always work out neatly and tidily in real life—that you left some loose ends, unanswered questions.

Zak: I did? Ooops. Like what?

MR: Well, like the extent of your father’s involvement in the purges in Indonesia. You mention in your book that you and your sisters took lots of documents from your mother’s house. Have you had a chance to go through them, and has any new information turned up that makes you admire your father more, or like him less?

Zak: No, nothing new, just more of the same stuff confirming what we already knew—that he wasn’t the bad guy.

MR: Right. That was my impression. He was trying to effect peaceful change. But to answer my question—

Zak: Those documents are locked away in a safe place. Some day we’ll sort through them. But they won’t tell us any more than what we already know. I think my father left us everything he wanted us to know about him, what really mattered to him, in his coded book of poems.

MR: Very interesting. And how much do you identify with your father? '

Zak: Some of his traits rubbed off on me for sure. He fought for causes. I’m the same. He was very politically aware, engaged. I am. Or at least have been in the past [laughs]. He was a biker-camper, I go on what Europeans call “mototours” every year.

MR: So, you like to ride bikes too? For the sense of freedom?

Zak: Yes. It’s like a mechanical horse to me. I like the idea of riding into the sunset, but I can’t ride a horse—haven’t learned how yet. [laughs]

MR: Any plans to park the bike, lock yourself in a room and write a second book?

Zak: Yes, actually. I realize that having said that I don’t consider myself much of a writer that can sound strange, contradictory. But I’ve got an idea for a book based on true and crazy tales from my three years in Thailand; I’ve got one about my ancestors who were split between ... some serving the emperor, some belonging to rebel factions; I got some guitar instructional material I’d like to re-issue...

MR: Well, I hope you write them all. But which one would you want to write next?

Zak: I should really do the guitar book first because it might be easier to sell, but something tells me I’ll be doing the one about the crazy tales from Thailand.

MR: What attracts you to that topic?

Zak: Same thing as my life story, I guess. The crazy-but-true element, the unusual, atypicality... the fact that all these weird karmic things actually happened there, and I was witness to it. That others witnessed it too. Carl Jung called it synchronicity: the fact that seemingly unconnected things can and will find ways to connect together, that strange unusual things can happen seemingly because of each other, but you’re no longer sure which is the cause and which is the effect, which came first—they all seem to come together for the purpose of causing the crazy thing to happen.

MR: That sounds interesting! Though I can’t say I know a lot about that subject, I’m sure I’ll know quite a bit after reading your book.

Zak: You have several movies made in that vein, like Steel Mag... no that was with Dolly Parton... I mean Magnolia, the one with Tom Cruise—seemingly seperate stories are actually intertwined. Can’t think of the other titles now, I’m afraid.

MR: Well, thank you for your time, Zak. This has been a very interesting interview. I hope to read more from you soon.

Zak: Thank you! It’s been my pleasure.

—Fin.—

» SYNOPSIS: My Life as a Squint-Eyed Chink »

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