Q&A: Author Brad Meltzer Is Holding Out for a Hero
The bestselling novelist - who already has three books out this year - is trying to arm a new generation to fight for truth, justice, and everything else comics inspired him to believe in as a kid
I refuse to believe that Brad Meltzer sleeps. It’s just not possible given his tremendous output as an author. This year alone, he’s released three books already — non-fiction book The JFK Conspiracy: The Secret Plot to Kill Kennedy—and Why It Failed, children’s book I Am Sally Ride, and a printed edition of his University of Michigan 2024 commencement speech Make Magic: The Book of Inspiration You Didn't Know You Needed. Just to rub it in for any of us struggling with our current works in progress, he also recently announced he’s completed the first draft of the latest “Zig & Nola” thriller. So, no more complaints from you, my friends - just find out what pharmaceuticals Brad is on, or what deal he’s struck with Mephistopheles, or how to get your cybernetic upgrade now and you, too, can be one of the most prolific writers on the planet!
I jest, of course. Brad is not a meth head, enslaved to the Dark One, or a robot in a skin suit…most likely…but it’s certainly easy for artists to shake their fists at the sky when discussing him because few can keep up with him. Hell, I’d probably hate the guy if he wasn’t both brilliant and so damn committed to fostering empathy, knowledge, and creativity in this increasingly bleak world.
Long story short: I was incredibly excited to have Brad join me for one of my artist-on-artist conversations — because of how much I’ve enjoyed his books (from his “Culper Ring” and “Zig & Nola” novels to his I Am biographies for children that I’ve read to my own kids for years), my appreciation for his comic book work (Identity Crisis!), and, maybe most importantly, the wild and inspiring decency and compassion he brings to just about everything he does.
In this chat, Brad and I are going to talk about:
Some of his latest books — including the danger of conspiracy theories, which he knows a thing or two about.
His secret origins as a human being and storyteller.
How the characters at the heart of his new thriller series — Zig and Nola — helped him evolve as an author.
His relationship with superheroes and how they continue to inspire him.
What his work has revealed to him about power and competitiveness in the United States.
What, if any, role he thinks storytellers have to play in leading us out of our current nightmare.
Now, let me introduce you to Brad with the caveat that he will have written and published another dozen books by the time you finish reading this conversation.
COLE HADDON: Brad, we have a lot to talk about because, well, you might just be the world’s most interesting man. It’s nearly impossible to summarize everything you’ve accomplished in your life without it all sounding a little made up. Is the lesson here, most of us just aren’t living our lives to the fullest or that you’ve only been able to do so much because you surrendered trivial things like your mental health?
BRAD MELTZER: Wait, so I’m not alone thinking that my entire life has been made up by a clear absurdist? I thought we were doing an interview and now I get free therapy. This is amazing.
CH: I’ve been told a few times by artists I’ve chatted with for this series that I should’ve been a therapist, so let’s see where this conversation goes! I’m going to try to unpack this life of yours, or rather the relationship between it, the stories you tell, and your passion for art in general. Maybe we should begin with the subject of historical conspiracy, which permeates a great deal of your work – including your latest non-fiction book The JFK Conspiracy: The Secret Plot to Kill Kennedy – and Why It Failed, which you co-wrote with Josh Mensch. Why are you – why do you think your imagination – is so drawn to these kinds of mysteries?
BM: For me, conspiracies are always mirrors. They fill a vacuum, reflecting people’s fears. That’s why they take hold and they’re so difficult to dislodge. In the earliest days of my career, I think I used to be obsessed with trying to figure out the truth — and of course, I still love that. But as I get older, I’m also equally interested in those base fears.
As an example, if you want to know who killed JFK, in the ’60s, we thought it was Russia or Cuba, our enemies at the height of the Cold War. In the ’70s, once Watergate happened and distrust for the government surged, we thought it was an inside job — LBJ or the CIA. And in the ’80s, as the Godfather movies peaked, who killed JFK? It was the mob. Decade by decade, the person who killed JFK was whoever America was most afraid of at that moment in time. And for the new book – The JFK Conspiracy – it’s a real-life JFK assassination story that you’ve never heard, at the start of his presidency. And once again, it shows you who this assassin was most terrified of.
CH: This is a fascinating response because what you’re essentially saying is that the conspiracy theory has become a cipher for society’s greatest fears, not unlike how George Romero once told me he viewed zombies as a genre. The difference, of course, is the conspiracy theories you’re describing are deeply tangled up with actual history, with actual facts that might otherwise be necessary to understand this world, whereas George was getting at was a way to explore more nebulous cultural anxieties, I think.
BM: I actually very much agree with George Romero in the sense that I think all of these things are not just about the cold hard facts. They’re about something within us. They’re about our anxieties and fears and everything that goes along with it. Art, zombies, conspiracies, it always goes back to something that is getting ignited with us. Rorschach tests in different forms.
CH: Do you think our fixation on conspiracy theories has reached any kind of cultural tipping point in terms of how they impact our collective ability to navigate an increasingly complicated world?
BM: The harder the truth is to find, the more we’re going to have to deal with this nonsense.
CH: It’s difficult to imagine it’s not going to get worse, what with AI now rearing its head. I was always gifted at navigating a library, but the internet obviously made research so much easier for all of us. Now, I have to research the sources for my sources. Do you think about this much as you mull the future?
BM: Of course. But that’s why my favorite research is just talking directly to people who work in that area you want to know about. There’s nothing like it.
CH: I grew up around people prone to conspiracy theories, which has manifested in many different scary ways in their lives. I think my fear of them, of this instinct in people who otherwise seem rational, has led to me inevitably dismissing them as human beings. It’s not my best trait, but it’s wrapped up in a lot of fury about where we are as a culture today. After all your research, after everything you’ve written directly and indirectly about the subject, after hosting “Decoded”, what do you think people like me should spend more time trying to understand or even change about ourselves if we want to make sense of people who can believe the most extraordinary as demonstrably false claims?
BM: I firmly believe that if you put more good in the world, that’s how you make the world a better place. That’s a completely naïve idea, but it’s an idea worth fighting for. I also firmly believe sometimes you need to physically act and force the world to make sense, especially when dealing with ignorance and hatred. Which is “better?” Just depends which day you catch me.
CH: Let’s switch gears. I want to turn back the clock, to understand who you were as a kid. The kid who fell in love with comic books and, in particular, Superman – so much so that this passion followed you into adulthood and has manifested both in your creative work, in comics and The Book of Lies, and even helping to save the Cleveland house where Superman was created. What was the role of stories in your life growing up?
BM: When I was growing up, like anyone who truly loves these heroes, I saw myself as an outsider as I waded through my chaotic childhood. So, I needed those heroes. I needed Superman and Batman. I needed the good that they brought to my jumbled, mad world. They taught me that my struggle and fight wouldn’t be in vain. And that I might actually win if I just keep getting back up again. How could I not be attracted to that?
CH: “Jumbled, mad world”….tell me more about that. How does your childhood – I don’t know, maybe your place in the world, but, really, all of it – how does it feel in your memory of it?
BM: My father was a bomb-thrower. Every few months, he would just explode — with a blast radius that would just destroy friendships and relationships around him. When he was 39, he lost his job, and I mean he lost everything. It wasn’t just a point where we were worried about money. We were worried about safety. So, to this day, I’m just waiting around for the explosion to come. I do think it’s what’s made me a better thriller writer. It’s what helps me anticipate and dramatize all the bad. But as always, our greatest strength is our greatest weakness.
CH: I’m so sorry you grew up in such an environment. There wasn’t as much trauma in my childhood, but I think enough I still have to navigate today that I can empathize with how you still carry that. You say to this day you’re still waiting for the explosion to come. That is a lot for any person to carry, but, speaking as an artist, that is an emotional state that is easily exacerbated by the professional turmoil of our industries. There’s a terrible misconception that successful people, who achieve their “dream”, somehow emancipate themselves from all the worries, anxieties, and problems of younger, less-experienced artists. As if success is a magic cure to life’s problems.
BM: Just to be clear, my father was chaos, but I always knew he loved me. Always. And he never raised a hand to me. He was just loud to others. So, you don’t need to mourn my childhood. It was an adventure for sure, but also a beautiful one.
CH: Understood.
BM: What’s more interesting to me is that within your question, you brought up the misconception that success somehow emancipates people from all the worries, anxieties, and problems of life. And I will tell you that selling my book didn’t fix my problems. What “fixed” them was self-examination, an incredible spouse, and an insightful therapist. Success isn’t an escape hatch. Only you are.
CH: I’m not sure how to set up this next question because we’re not friends with any kind of intimate knowledge of each other’s lives. But I’ve watched profound TED Talks from you, I’ve read a lot of what you’ve written in different mediums, and I’ve read about your, to be utterly reductive, good deeds. You seem to be a socially conscious person with a commitment to living a life that matters, is the point. I’m curious where that comes from if so much of your formative years were fixed in a chaotic environment. You can’t attribute that to just Superman and Batman.
BM: Love and generosity. That’s the answer, trite as it sounds.
CH: I will never consider such things trite.
BM: Amen. But to answer your question, when I was little, I remember my grandfather giving away my old toys to a kid next door who had way less than we did. And I will never forget that moment when this kid looked at my pile of crappy, beat-up toys and was like, “These are the best – thank you!” That’s an indelible memory for me. My grandfather had nothing, but he made the world a better place with just kindness.
Is that all it took to make me who I am? Of course not. My origin story, like anyone else’s, doesn’t fit in six panels. But man, that was the start. And over and over in life, from English teachers, to history teachers, to a father-in-law who is a civil rights hero, my life was bettered by people who stepped in when they knew I needed help. I never asked for it. They offered it. They knew I needed that help. So, how do I not try to pay the world back?
CH: So, you loved stories as a kid. You’re clearly gifted at telling them, there’s always passion there that I detect. Why the law degree, then?
BM: Fear. For me, the most vital thing of all was to not have my father’s life. Money created so much heartache and pain for my family. So, if everything fell apart – as it always did in my house – I just wanted to know that I would have a job that would actually pay me money. That’s why I went to law school. To have something to fall back on in case this writing thing didn’t work out.
CH: It’s nearly 30 years since that law degree, and “the writing thing” has clearly worked out for you. What are you afraid of today besides something terrible happening to those you love?
BM: Here’s one of my favorite first lines from one of my novels: “I’m afraid of heights, snakes, normalcy, mediocrity, Hollywood, the initial silence of an empty house, the enduring darkness of a poorly-lit street, evil clowns, professional failure, the intellectual impact of Barbie dolls, letting my father down, being paralyzed, hospitals, doctors, the cancer that killed my mother, dying unexpectedly, dying for a stupid reason, dying painfully, and worst of all, dying alone. But I’m not afraid of power—which is why I work in the White House.” That was 25 years ago. Not much has changed. And as I read that line again, I realize I wrote that nearly a decade before my mom did die of cancer.
CH: I can’t recall which book that’s from, but I’m shit at quoting things, even my own work. But I have to say, I love it. It’s like the D.C. version of Kevin Costner’s monologue in Bull Durham, except I think I like your kicker better.
BM: It’s from The First Counsel. Oh, and I love that Bull Durham monologue. Still one of the greatest.
CH: Speaking of power, it’s something you write a lot about – those who use it for good, but more often those who abuse it, I think. Especially in Washington. You’ve sat down with so many major players at this point, including striking up relationships with two former presidents. What have you come to realize about power and its nuances that most fiction, even most people, doesn’t understand?
BM: I’ve met every president dating back to George Bush, Sr. And here’s the secret. They’re all people. That’s the thing about power. We want to believe it’s some massive cabal with secret plans on a chalkboard in some darkly lit chamber. But power – and the abuse of it – is all about human wants. Often petty wants. We think the government has these grand plans. But the government is us. And I just have to say, especially now, we love an enemy. We love having something to blame things on. Someone to beat. We always talk about Americans as explorers, but I’m not sure we’re explorers. After we went to the Moon, most Americans lost interest. What we are is competitive. We like to win. And sadly, there are many who love seeing someone else lose.
CH: You wrote your first novel while at college, but it was rejected by 24 publishers. Can you give me a sense of what it was about? I’m curious if it lives in the same world as much of your subsequent fiction. But also – and I’m sure you’ve looked back at it a few times over the years – do you have any thoughts on why it was rejected?
