Memory Ward, Jon Bassoff Interview

Becca Hughes
Feb 6
8 min read

Updated: Mar 24

Thanks to Jon Bassoff, and Nicole at Blackstone Publishing for the early access and the chance to read this book. It quickly became one of my favourite reads in a while! See the full, original blog post on

The Strand Magazine website.

Buy the book directly from Blackstone Publishing HERE.

'From critically acclaimed author Jon Bassoff, The Memory Ward is a haunting Russian doll of a novel about one man’s attempt to discover what’s real and what isn’t … They say it’s always beautiful in Bethlam, Nevada. No place you’d rather live. The people are friendly, if a little nosy, and there’s no crime to speak of. Life is pretty perfect. But postal worker Hank Davies has started to suspect something is off in this idyllic little town. And he’s certain of that when he realizes the letter she’s been delivering are just blank pages. Hank isn’t the only one who’s noticed the oddities in Bethlam. One such person knocks on his window in the middle of the night, urging him to investigate his bedroom wall. When Hank pulls back the wallpaper, he discovers dozens of sheets of paper, full of a story that is either complete madness or unbelievable truth. As he begins looking beyond the veneer of his smiling neighbours and their white picket fences, Hank is drawn further and further into a disturbing new reality.'

Interview

1. How much of the plot structure did you plan before you started writing? Was the whole plot set before you began?

I had most of the basics in place before I started writing. I know some writers are able to wing it and see where their muse takes them, but I’m too controlling of a person for all of that. So, yeah, I spent quite some time plotting and planning, figuring out which character knows what and when, and what to reveal and hide from the readers. But of course, even when you’ve got things planned out, new characters and ideas appear from the mist, and the story inevitably tries escaping from you into the darkening woods. Whenever this happened, I was forced to grab a lasso from my shed and chase after that story before it disappeared forever.

2. Whilst the plot felt fresh, different elements rang bells for me relating to various titles such as 1984, The Truman Show, Shutter Island, Donnie Darko, The Myth of Sisyphus, and “The Yellow Wallpaper”. From where did you draw inspiration for this novel?

Yeah, you’re right on with most of those influences. I had actually never read 1984 before writing this novel, but I read it after, and it quickly became one of my favorite novels, so maybe there was some sort of psychic transfer there. I’ve always felt like what makes a writer unique is the ability to imitate other writers badly. And in that poor attempt, his or her own voice can develop. But as far as plot development, there was definitely a nod to a few of those books and movies.

3. How far do you think it is important that readers have read, or are familiar with, Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s “The Yellow Wallpaper”?

I don’t think it’s crucial, but there is definitely a wink and a nod to that great short story. I was always struck by the image of secrets hidden beneath rotting wallpaper, and from the start I always knew that I wanted my protagonist to find some crazy tale beneath his own wallpaper. In this novel, as in life, I guess, there is that fine line between reality and madness, and Gilman’s story certainly lends itself to that.

4. I noticed the richness of the setting and sensory elements. Specifically in relation to the weather, the sounds, and the smells. Does this relate to our senses being so strongly linked to memory? For example, it is recorded that dementia patients often remember songs word for word.

That’s really interesting. I know that smell, in particular, is very closely related to memory, and in the novel the doctors test the patients by having them smell various cloths. And even though some of the characters begin to doubt some of their memories, I wanted them to be vivid. Maybe too vivid. I actually borrowed some of my own sensory memories for the novel in the hopes of authenticity. But I think I’ve always tended toward the cinematic in my writing.

5. Some readers may note the overt repetition, beyond this being crucial for the storytelling, I also felt this resonated with the monotony of everyday life. Whilst most of us are not stuck behind bars or in a ward of some kind, we are arguably ‘trapped’ by the system and the cogs of society. Can you speak to this at all?

There’s this parable in the novel The Maltese Falcon about a man named Flitcraft. Flitcraft is this normal man living a rather normal, predictable life who then has a profound near-death experience on the streets of his town. This traumatic event causes him to realize that life is fragile and death is unpredictable. He decides to abruptly abandon his mundane life and start a new one, one that has more meaning. He leaves his family and leaves town and isn’t seen for many years. But when the detective, Spade, finally does run him down, he finds that Flitcraft has moved to a nearby town that is very much like his old one, is working a job in sales, just like his old one, and is living with a new family, also very much like his old one. I thought of that parable as I was writing The Memory Ward. It’s this idea that we always come back to our old habits, even if they’re destructive, even if they make us miserable.

6. Noting your play on Bethlem to Bethlam. There are rich contextual elements that harken back to the historic milieu. Did you have a prior interest in memory loss and human psychology before planning/writing this novel?

I love that you caught that. Actually, I wanted Bethlam to be a play on Bethlem and Bethlehem, the birthplace of Jesus. On the one hand, the community of Bethlam is presented as idyllic with smiling neighbors and kids bouncing red balls on the pavement, but on the other hand, there is this sense of paranoia, of madness. And yeah, memory, especially unreliable memory, has always been my obsession for me. Most of my novels address this in one way or another. If we can’t trust our own memories, what can we trust? This is especially powerful when writing from a first-person point-of-view. Because then the reader loses trust in the narrator and feels disoriented. And I always want my reader to feel that sense of unsteadiness.

7. The setting being an old Nevada nuclear test site town creates an eerie feel and effectively sets up the reader in a parallel version of 1950-60s America (one that already has DVDs) although not explicitly mentioned. Was this deliberate and the intended time? If so why, and if not then did you have an alternative in mind or were you happy to leave it open?

I wanted the time period to be unclear, to be a bit anachronistic. I imagined that the novel took place in the near future but I really wanted Bethlam to have an unsettling 1950s feel, sort of a Stepford Wives vibe. There’s something wholesome yet terrifying about that period of time. The connection in the story to nuclear testing is consistent with that period in history. The characters have a sense of innocence and naivete which is being threatened by paranoia and dread.

8. Considering memory loss patients, in cases I know they certainly retain their ‘soul’ or ‘essence’. How much do you personally believe memories make us who we are?

That’s a big question! I don’t know if I believe in the human soul, but I do believe that memories (or maybe our memory of our memories) are as close as we get to that essence. That’s why it’s so hard for families when a loved one gets dementia or Alzheimer’s. I’m sure it feels as if they’ve lost what makes that person human. I read how each time we have a memory the memory itself changes based on the circumstances of that moment. So if you keep remembering an event, like in a game of telephone, the memory will become more and more altered. So maybe it’s our own narrative of our past that centers us and provides an essence or soul.

9. Without even questioning IF, but WHEN Memory Ward is adapted for the screen, would you hope it becomes a movie or a TV series? Please explain why.

I love your confidence! Yeah, I would love that. I’ve had a few of my projects in the work for the better part of a decade. Somebody once told me that in publishing it’s always “no, no, no” until it’s “yes.” In film, it’s always “yes, yes, yes” until it’s “no.” An older book of mine called The Drive-Thru Crematorium has been optioned and is set to film this summer, so that’s really exciting. And I do think The Memory Ward would make a great film. And obviously I’m quite impartial.

10. You left the ending up for interpretation. Is this to be a ‘take 3’ (or more) for Hank/Wally? Is he being gaslighted by his ‘wife’ and ‘doctor’ as they try a new approach to his treatment? Or, most terrifying of all, is his true life a delusion to some degree, whether he is confused about his past, present, or both? Was this intentionally left open-ended like Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper? How does this resonate with, what I deem to be the conceit of this novel, the idea that all of our ‘truths’ are fabrications, a mixture of emotional responses and often misremembered memories? To some degree, are we not all questioning what is real?

As the writer, I have my own take about what has actually happened in the story, the “truth” if you will. I think the author needs to have that understanding even if he or she doesn’t reveal it completely. However, I will tell you that my editor disagreed with me on what the “truth” was at the end of the novel. I certainly wanted the ending to be ambiguous, as the reader’s own experiences with mental illness or conspiracy theories or even science fiction novels might color their interpretation. But, yes, at the very end our narrator peeks behind the wallpaper and sees what “looks like truth.” And maybe that’s as close as we can ever get. A narrative that “looks like truth” as opposed to actually being truth. Maybe my favorite line in the Bible is when Jesus is preaching about being a witness to the truth and Pontius Pilate asks rhetorically, “What is truth?” We’re all making it up as we go.

11. What’s up with the moth references? Research tells me they often symbolise hidden innate human truths. Was this an intentional addition or are you scared of moths? (Because I am!)

Man, I wish that had some great symbolism behind those moths, but, no I’m just like you. Scared of them. And I think when I was writing the novel, we were having a moth epidemic in our town and I was killing dozens a day. If I were smarter, I would make up some crazy cool symbol like the one you mentioned, but I’m not all that bright.

12. Finally, now that Hank/Wally has ripped down the wallpaper, do you think he is now ‘free’ from his delusions? Whether for better or worse, please explain.

I don’t think any of us can ever be completely free of our delusions and Hank/Wally is no exception. However, at least he knows that he had the delusions in the first place, and so maybe that’s a step toward some grand realization. But when truth is too painful or terrifying, we tend to go back into the comfort of our narratives. And I imagine that’s what Hank/Wally will do eventually. Create the narrative that works for him and gives him meaning. Sometimes that’s the best we can do in this nonsensical, indifferent world.