The mystery was solved when Clive was contacted by an employee of the Union Pacific Railroad (the Kansas Pacific was consolidated with the Union Pacific in 1880) who had access to the company’s archives. The Kansas Pacific salvage crew actually found the locomotive shortly after the disaster. Lifted out of the mud in the middle of the night, the locomotive was towed to the railroad’s shops in Kansas City. In the meantime, the railroad filed an insurance claim for $20,000 for the “lost” engine. Rebuilt, with a few cosmetic changes and a new number, the engine was back on the rails hauling freight. Instead of a long-lost steam engine, Clive discovered a 111-year-old insurance fraud.
Clive’s belief in the book was confirmed when The Sea Hunters appeared on The New York Times hardcover non-fiction list on October 13, 1996. The paperback edition, published a year later, captured the number one spot on the Times paperback list on August 17, 1997, the first of Clive’s books to reach that exalted position.
The book’s success was also a personal coup for Paul McCarthy. “I knew the minute Peter Lampack told me what Clive had in mind that it was a solid concept,” McCarthy states. “The book was no one’s priority in-house but mine, but I wasn’t about to give up.” He continues, laughing, “In the end, Simon & Schuster’s lack of faith worked to Clive’s advantage. Since they were sure it was going to bomb, the advance was modest, but they agreed to pay substantially higher royalties. The deal ended up costing S&S a lot of money they wouldn’t have had to spend if they had simply listened to Clive in the first place.”
Clive refers to The Sea Hunters as, “the book nobody wanted.” He is convinced it would have never been published without McCarthy’s confidence and determination. “Paul believed in the book when everybody was telling him I was crazy to go off on a tangent that was certain to fail. He fought for the book, and we ended up with a winner.”
On May 10, 1997, Clive, resplendent in a purple velvet robe and matching tam, stood on a podium in the shadow of New York City’s Throgs Neck Bridge. He was there to address the graduating class of the State University of New York Maritime College. In lieu of a Ph.D. dissertation, the school was awarding Clive with an Honorary Doctor of Letters Degree for The Sea Hunters, the first time in the school’s 123-year history the honorary degree was awarded.
Teri Cussler vividly recalls the event. “It was a wonderful weekend. My father and mother were originally the only ones who were going to attend the graduation, but Mom wanted to surprise him. So Dirk, Dayna, and I flew to New York. Dad looked like Mark Twain in his robe, and I was so proud of him. When he saw us in the crowd, he was caught off guard and choked up for a moment.”
Clive began his address: “Admiral Brown, distinguished faculty and guests, it is indeed a rare privilege to be here today. I know that some of you out there are disappointed I don’t look like Dirk Pitt. I used to. When Dirk and I started out together, we were both thirty-five, now he’s pushing forty and I’m sixty-five. It just ain’t fair.” He went on to assure the graduates, “You are to be envied because you’re going to create and work over, on and under the sea . . . It is said that if the ocean be the lifeblood of this small planet, then every breaking wave is its heartbeat. Fortunate indeed are those who are drawn to its water.”
If Clive’s sidestep into non-fiction with The Seahunters added a new dimension to his persona, his next undertaking would be the first step in the creation of a literary phenomenon.
Taking note of the success of Tom Clancy’s co-written Op-Center series, Simon & Schuster approached Clive and asked him if he would be interested in a co-written Dirk Pitt spinoff series featuring a new cast of characters and Cussler’s signature non-stop action. The NUMA Files would follow the adventures of NUMA’s Special Assignments Division, a group of highly trained professionals who operate outside the realm of government oversight. Although the team would be new, some of the characters from the Pitt novels would occasionally make an appearance.
In a letter to Peter Lampack dated 8-95, Clive addressed the original premise as proposed by the publisher:
The NUMA Files concept sounds good to me. But it will need some fine tuning before it flies in my mind. The danger with plots involving a deep sea exploration vessel puts it too close to the trite and banal Sea Quest show. The idea here is to be creative, to take paths no series of books or programs have traveled before. That’s why Dirk Pitt is what he is. The NUMA gang does not follow the common story lines of other authors. For better or worse, we at least stand in a class by ourselves.
I like the team aspect, especially changing the specialists who cooperate with them in each tale. As to the characters. Let’s get real. Here we come on like we’re casting a grade B movie. A navy seal, who is a jack-of-all trades, and the team leader. Ho hum. Better is an ex-ship’s engineering officer, who became a designer and builder of deep sea vehicles.
A female Marine captain, with special underwater engineering training, and cross-trained as a pilot of every flying machine ever produced. In her late twenties no less. Naturally, she would look like Sharon Stone. Gag, retch, puke. Not believable. This character has to be a man. Also, keep the military out of the team. The natural personnel can enter via the various plot lines, along with intelligent female character, scientists, government officials, business executives, etc.
The brilliant oceanographer from Woods Hole? Here is an opportunity to be original. I suggest a husband and wife team or a couple who live together, particularly if they had a little spark and warmth between them. Here you get two for the price of one, a man, along with a woman who is bright and feminine . . . Let’s break new ground, let’s be fresh and original. I personally detest anything mundane.
Let’s break new ground, let’s be fresh and original. I personally detest anything mundane. Clive replaced the navy seal with Kurt Austin, the son of a wealthy marine engineer. A professional diver, Austin worked for the CIA before being recruited by NUMA. The foxy Marine aviatrix was scrapped in favor of Joe Zavala. Born in Santa Fe, Zavala graduated from the New York Maritime College. A gifted mechanic and accomplished pilot, Zavala boxed professionally to pay his way through school.
Paul and Gamay Trout met when they were attending the Scripps Institute of Oceanography. An expert diver, Gamay has a doctorate in marine biology. Paul Trout, fascinated by the mysteries of the sea since he was a child, earned his Ph.D. in ocean science.
With his characters fleshed out, Clive now needed a co-writer.
In late 1997, Paul Kemprecos was surprised when he answered the phone and heard Clive Cussler’s voice. Kemprecos smiles when he recalls their conversation. “Clive explained the NUMA Files, a spinoff of the Dirk Pitt novels was in the works, and would I be interested in co-writing the series. I would do all the work, and he would get all the money. Hey, how could I pass up an offer like that?”
Kemprecos grew up in Brockton, Massachusetts. After graduating from Boston University’s School of Journalism, he spent twenty-five years as a reporter and managing editor for two local newspapers on Cape Cod. When a reporter covering the search for a pirate ship lost during a storm in 1717 unexpectedly quit, Kemprecos took over the story. “The Whydah was reportedly carrying a fortune in gold when it was driven onto the shoals near Wellfleet,” Kemprecos says. “During the early 1980s, three salvage outfits were going head-to-head and the competition got pretty hot at times. I thought it would make a good non-fiction book, but nobody was interested.”
Although his only previous attempts at fiction were several Christmas stories for the newspaper, Kemprecos decided to use the salvage theme as a vehicle for a detective novel. His hero, private eye Aristotle “Soc” Socarides is an ex-cop, fisherman, and accomplished diver. “I used the last name of a high school English teacher,” Kemprecos explains, “who passed me despite my aversion to homework.” More philosophical than hard-boiled, Soc lives in a boathouse on Cape Cod with a cat named Kojak.
Kemprecos sent several chapters to an agent who sold a two-book contract to Bantam Doubleday D
ell in 1986. Elated over the sale, but concerned about finding time to write, his problem was solved when the newspaper let him go. After Kemprecos turned in his first manuscript, his editor sent it to Clive who provided a favorable blurb used on the book’s jacket. Cool Blue Tomb was published in 1991, and a year later, won the Private Eye Writers of America’s Shamus Award for best first P.I. paperback novel.
Kemprecos personally sent Clive a copy of his second novel, Neptune’s Eye. “Clive called,” Kemprecos says, “and told me he usually doesn’t do two blurbs - ‘one to a customer.’ Nobody was more surprised than I was when he wrote, ‘There can be no better mystery writer in America than Paul Kemprecos.’”
When Inca Gold was published in June 1994, Kemprecos, who had never met Clive in person, learned he was going to be signing books at a Boston bookstore. After an eighty-mile drive and standing in line with more than 200 Cussler fans, Kemprecos finally arrived at the table where Clive was sitting, pen in hand, waiting for the next customer.
When Clive asked him what he would like inscribed, Kemprecos immediately responded, “To Paul Kemprecos, who taught me everything I know about writing.” Caught off guard, Clive looked up, grinned, and wrote, “To Paul Kemprecos, who taught me everything I know about writing and then some!”
“After he signed my book,” Kemprecos says. “Clive stood up, shook my hand and told me, ‘If you came all the way from Cape Cod just for me, you made my day.’”
Although four more “Soc” books were published during the next six years, Kemprecos was ready to call it quits. “My books lingered in mid-list hell,” he says. “The victims of low press runs and even lower promotional budgets. After finishing Bluefin Blues in 1997, I told my wife, Christy, I don’t think I’m going to write any more books. I was drained both creatively and financially, and considering a job that might be more lucrative - like working in a 7-11.”
Kemprecos’s convenience store career was put on hold after Clive called and offered him the co-writing job on The NUMA Files. Thrilled by the opportunity to work with Clive, Kemprecos also had serious reservations. “It was one thing to write Cape Cod regional private eye mysteries,” he says. “I wasn’t sure I could make the jump to a globetrotting adventure series with the expectations of a bestselling author.”
Hearing nothing from Clive for several months, Kemprecos called and asked him what was going on with The NUMA Files. “Clive told me,” Kemprecos says, “there had been some legal hold-ups because, as he put it, ‘the lawyers have to justify their existence.’ I’m convinced it was dragged out because Clive was making sure from the get-go he maintained tight control of the spinoffs. Tom Clancy was signing contracts for writers to simply use his name and Clive wasn’t going to go that way. I told him my finances were getting pretty tight, and he said he would try to hurry things along.”
A week later, Kemprecos opened his mailbox and found a letter with a check for $10,000 drawn on Clive’s personal account. When Kemprecos called to thank him, Clive told him there was no reason to wait for a contract, and they should begin working on story lines. A week later, Clive sent Kemprecos another $10,000.
During their early phone discussions, Clive outlined the cast of characters. “The inclusion of the married couple, Paul and Gamay Trout,” Kemprecos says, “is a typical stroke of Cussler genius. Married people talk differently, and it was fun to play around with their relationship.” Clive suggested a possible plot - Atlantis is discovered at the South Pole. Kemprecos spent several weeks dutifully researching Atlantis and the South Pole, only to have Clive call and tell him he had decided to use the Atlantis legend in his next Dirk Pitt book (Atlantis Found, published in 1999). “I told him,” Kemprecos says, “If I knew you better I’d say you were a bastard.”
The lost continent was replaced with a plot revolving around Pre-Columbian contact between the old and new worlds. Kemprecos, who had considered using the sinking of the Andrea Doria in one of his “Soc” books, suggested the disaster might provide an exciting prologue if the Italian liner was sunk on purpose. Clive liked the idea, suggesting there might be something aboard the ship that the villains are determined to keep from getting to America.
“We went back and forth,” Kemprecos says, “and came up with a priceless ancient carving that went down with the ship. Clive added another wonderful Cussler touch, stashing the carving in an armored car in the Andrea Doria’s hold.”
After researching Pre-Columbian civilization, Kemprecos went to work, completed the first 100 pages and sent them to Clive. “He told me it was terrible,” Kemprecos says, “couldn’t believe it was written by the same guy who wrote the ‘Soc’ books. I knew I couldn’t match Clive Cussler, but I was determined to write the best adventure novel Paul Kemprecos was capable of. I confessed I didn’t like it either and told him I could use some guidance.”
Clive suggested Kemprecos fly out to Phoenix. The two men sat down in Clive’s office, and Clive was soon regaling Kemprecos with a story. “I’m sitting there,” Kemprecos says, “worried sick about how I’m going to write this book, and he’s off on a story. Then, somehow he got me telling a story, and another, and another. I began to see the light. Clive has always told me I’m a better writer than he is - which is flattering - but he is a consummate storyteller and has an amazing instinct for what people are interested in reading. I went home and finished the book during December of 1998.”
Serpent, A Novel from the NUMA Files was published as a paperback by Pocket Books on June 5, 1999. One reviewer wrote, “I’m not even a full chapter into the book and I’m drawn.” Another reported, “Cussler has taken on a co-author, which may account for a fresh poetic reach and smoothness to many of the pages here.”
Die-hards were put off by what they perceived as an unnecessary deviation from Dirk Pitt. “Sorry Clive,” one critic grumbled, “I like my usual hero better.” A number of Clive’s readers, convinced The NUMA Files signaled Dirk Pitt’s retirement, contacted his publisher with their concerns. “One irate fan,” Kemprecos recalls, “sent an email to Simon & Schuster telling them he wanted Dirk Pitt to kill Kurt Austin in the next book.”
When they were totaled up, the yeas overwhelmingly outnumbered the nays and Serpent made its first appearance on The New York Times paperback bestseller list on June 20, 1999.
“I always felt like an orphan at Simon & Schuster,” Clive says “We didn’t live far from Michael Korda’s house in Santa Fe, but he never bothered to invite me over. His special pets, like Mary Higgins Clark and Jackie Collins, were always there.”
In 1992, Simon & Schuster invited a group of their top selling authors, including Clive, to attend the American Booksellers Association trade show in Los Angeles. “Larry McMurtry had a no-holds jazzy party in Beverly Hills,” Clive says. “Mary Higgins Clark was treated to champagne and caviar in Hollywood. Me? My party was at some joint called the Fire House in downtown Los Angeles. I spent the evening eating meatloaf with a bunch of bored bookstore clerks.”
Downsizing, Simon & Schuster eliminated more than seventy jobs in January of 1999, including Paul McCarthy’s. “I would never have left Clive,” McCarthy says, “but I had no choice. My assistant became Clive’s editor, another splendid example of S&S’s corporate indifference regarding what was best for Clive and his product.”
Losing his trusted editor and ally, was a major blow, but the growing tension between Clive and Simon & Schuster was ratcheted up a couple notches when he turned in the manuscript for Atlantis Found, the fifteenth Dirk Pitt novel. After several unsuccessful attempts to set up a meeting to discuss money, Peter Lampack realized he was getting jerked around and let it be known the book was on the table. He would be willing to talk with anybody interested in making a serious offer.
Lampack was contacted by Phyliss Grann at Putnam. New York Magazine cited Grann as, “The undisputed queen of New York’s book business.” Tom Clancy’s assessment of Grann - “good wife, good mother, good boss, and a dear friend.” An article in Book magazine in
cluded Grann in a list of “Ten People Who Decide What America Reads.”
Born in London, Grann attended Barnard College. After graduating, she was hired as Nelson Doubleday’s secretary. In 1970, Grann joined Simon & Schuster, ultimately heading up the publisher’s mass-market imprint. Six years later, Grann was hired as Putnam’s editor in chief and proceeded to transform the stagnant company into a thriving $100 million operation. Richard Snyder, Simon & Schuster’s former CEO, explained Grann’s innovative approach to publishing. “In those days, they used to spread their authors out. Say, he’ll come out every three years. Phyliss was really the first to prove that an author was like a brand - you could come out every year.”
Clive was astonished when Grann flew out to see him in Phoenix. “She sat right there,” he says, pointing to a chair in his office. “I told Phyliss I’ve been in the business for thirty years and she was the first executive from a New York publishing house to come out to Arizona to visit. She couldn’t believe it.”
After Grann returned to New York, she contacted Peter Lampack and offered him the same advance for Atlantis Found that Simon & Schuster had paid for Clive’s last Dirk Pitt book, Flood Tide, published two years earlier. Clive and Lampack were tempted, but there was a major drawback to jumping ship: Simon & Schuster controlled Clive’s backlist. After discussing their options, they were inclined to stay put, but with the offer from Grann on the table, Clive instructed Lampack to put the screws to Simon & Schuster.
Lampack finally got through to Jack Romanos, Simon & Schuster’s president, but Romanos brusquely informed the agent he was having a house built in Savannah and would be overseeing the construction for a least a week. When Romanos was back in his office, he would call Lampack and they would schedule a meeting to discuss, as he put it, “the Cussler thing.” When Lampack called Clive to relate his conversation with Romanos, Clive remembers thinking, “I wasn’t hearing right and asked him to run it by me again.” When Lampack got to “the Cussler thing,” Clive abruptly cut him off. “Peter, call Phyliss Grann.”