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Howard Marks: I don't know if it's the ultimate drug, but it's up there. My own adrenaline flushes are triggered by fear—similar, I suspect, to that experienced by many sportsmen, bungee jumpers, and gamblers once they commit to a specific action. I still feel the rush now every time I perform, even though I risk merely looking like a plonker in front of a couple of a hundred people. In my smuggling days, I risked life imprisonment and occasionally death.
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It was certainly one of my most unnerving moments, but I have experienced many over the years.I want to ask about the discipline of writing. You have an incredibly natural style and manage to take the reader right to the heart of the place, be that describing your first curry or a creepy deserted hilltop village in Andalusia. Most writers have some kind of routine or ritual to adhere to—what's yours?
Once I designate a day as a writing day, I peck away at my keyboard until I've typed at least a thousand words, and hope I get on a roll of up to five thousand words. If I struggle to do the thousand words and think they are crap, I still keep them filed somewhere in case they could be included in a future writing project. I don't need to have a room with an inspiring view or even a comfortable seat. I can't write when I'm drunk, although I can with a hangover. I invariably write better when I'm stoned and edit better when I've taken cocaine or extremely strong coffee.Was it difficult to perform your live show—to be totally "on," as Mick Jagger referred to it—while you were in the midst of the ecstasy trade.
I didn't find it difficult. In fact, I found it helpful, as it hastened the necessary adrenaline flush. My shows involve simply talking shit to people who tend to be as much off their tits as I am. I don't begin to have the focus or talent that Mick Jagger has. He has to dance, sing and continue to be the best front man for any band ever. I have huge admiration for him and his fellow Rolling Stones, and always have had.
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Yes it does, as long as it's pure.Did you have any moral qualms with getting involved in the ecstasy trade? Were you aware of the tabloid hysteria that had grown around the rave scene and high profile deaths while you were jailed in Terre Haute?
Yes I did, simply because it wasn't cannabis, with which I never had any moral qualms as regards to dealing or smuggling. I was totally unaware of the UK tabloid hysteria when in Terre Haute.
Do you feel you've come to terms with your illness? Was the experience of writing Mr. Smiley a cathartic one?READ ON MOTHERBOARD: Drug Smuggling Is Getting a High Tech Makeover
I do feel that I've now come to terms with it, but it took several months. I now see cancer as a way of living rather than a way of dying. There has never been any catharsis in my writing; I wrote the essence of Mr. Smiley a couple of years ago, but felt it would be too controversial to submit to a publisher!I'm interested in the difference between fame and infamy. You've experienced both—do they affect the ego in a similar way?
Infamy is a particular form of fame rather than its opposite. Being infamous is merely being famous for an activity that is disapproved of by some people. I guess being famous for something that everyone approves of would be great, but it would be extremely rare.
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Were you ever surprised by how massive Mr. Nice became?READ: What It Feels Like to Smuggle 700 Grams of Cocaine in Your Stomach
I was astonished. I thought a few diehard old hippies might read it for [the] purposes of igniting some nostalgia, but it never occurred to me for a second that it would appeal to the next generation. I wrote Mr. Nice very shortly after being released from prison, without realizing the extent of the increase of cannabis use. Before my incarceration, cannabis use tended to be mainly a privilege enjoyed by the middle classes, mainly students, and West Indian immigrants who loved music. Most of the working class were not cannabis smokers. When I came out of prison I discovered that postmen, plumbers, tinkers, tailors, soldiers, and shop assistants were all at it.Finally, what is the most important lesson that your many careers have taught you?
Not to take myself too seriously.Thanks, Howard.Follow Harry on Twitter.