[excerpt from an unpublished interview of Will Davidson conducted by Jon Truant for Winter 2008 issue of Virginia Quarterly Review]
TRUANT: How did it feel the first time you realized you had really lost control of Bones?
DAVIDSON: Well, that’s not… I doubt that’s when you think it is. I knew almost from the very first that Bones didn’t really belong to me. Bones is a technique that anyone can use.
TRUANT: OK, then maybe I should put the question more simply. How did it feel the first time you saw something written by Bones that you didn’t write?
DAVIDSON: Well, I could quibble on this question of whether I actually write anything that Bones writes. I almost think of it as, there’s this organism that writes everything, the things that Will Davidson writes, the things Bones writes… I have other pseudonyms as well. All one organism, but he himself isn’t really any of those particular people. But I understand the question. I’ve been obtuse for long enough. I’ll just answer the question you’re trying to ask.
TRUANT: Thank you. [shuffling through papers] If I had done my homework I would just ask about it by name. It was in the, uh -
DAVIDSON: It was in Weird Tales.
TRUANT: Right! I’m sorry, I’m all over the place. So when you picked up the copy of Weird Tales...
DAVIDSON: Well, it doesn’t work like that anymore, of course. Someone sent me a link to the piece. But when I clicked on it… Weird Tales’ website doesn’t work very well. And I was waiting for it to load for what felt like a long time, and I felt a great feeling of exhilaration. It would be gauche to say it was like the feeling when your child is being born. Something like that, though.
TRUANT: And then when you first found out Bones had been accused of murder?
DAVIDSON: Well, that’s absurd, of course. Bones can’t murder anyone. He doesn’t have a terrestrial existence.
TRUANT: Yes, but, that someone who was writing as Bones may have killed someone?
DAVIDSON: I felt uneasy. It’s uncanny, of course, when the police come to your house to ask “Is this you?” and then they want to know where you were on the night of this murder. And of course I can’t speak to them as I’m speaking to you. I have to try to answer a cop’s questions the way a cop thinks her questions should be answered, or she can make trouble for me. Yet the questions she’s asking don’t have simple answers, cop answers. They have writerly answers. It’s difficult.
TRUANT: I can imagine. Were you ever a serious suspect?
DAVIDSON: I imagine I am still a suspect, despite my excellent alibi and lack of all connection to the victim. They don’t have another suspect. The other suspect is Bones, who doesn’t exist.
DAVIDSON: Yes. So.