Tom Clancy, whose complex, adrenaline-fuelled military novels spawned a new genre of thrillers, and made him one of the world's best-known and best-selling authors, died last week in Baltimore. He was 66.
Clancy, who grew up in Baltimore, died at Johns Hopkins Hospital after a brief illness, says his lawyer, J W Thompson Webb. Neither Webb nor Clancy's longtime publisher, Ivan Held, president of G P Putnam's Sons, says that he knows the precise cause of death.
Clancy's debut book, The Hunt for Red October, was frequently cited as one of the greatest genre novels ever written. With the book's publication in 1984, Clancy introduced a new kind of potboiler: an espionage thriller dense with technical details about weaponry, submarines and intelligence agencies.
It found an eager readership. More than 100 million copies of his novels are in print, and a remarkable 17 have reached No. 1 on the New York Times's best-seller list, including Threat Vector, that released last December. Prolific until his death, Clancy had been awaiting publication of his next book, Command Authority, set for December 3.
The impact of his books has been felt far beyond the publishing world. Some were adapted by Hollywood and became blockbusters starring Harrison Ford, Alec Baldwin and Ben Affleck as Clancy's hero protagonist, Jack Ryan. Clancy arranged for his thrillers to be turned into video games that were so realistic, that the military licensed them for training. And on television, fast-paced espionage using high-tech tools in the Clancy mold found a place in popular shows like 24 and Homeland.
The enterprises made Clancy a millionaire many times over and a familiar figure on the pop-culture landscape, frequently seen in photographs wearing a baseball cap and aviator sunglasses and holding a cigarette. With his riches he acquired an 80-acre farm on the Chesapeake Bay. He became a part owner of the Baltimore Orioles. He even bought a tank.
It was all a far cry from his days as a Maryland insurance salesman writing on the side in pursuit of literary aspirations and submitting his manuscript for The Hunt for Red October to the Naval Institute Press in Annapolis. An editor there, Deborah Grosvenor, became mesmerised by the book, a cold war tale set on a Soviet submarine.
But she had a hard time persuading her boss to read it; Clancy was an unknown, and the publisher had no experience with fiction. She was also concerned that the novel had too many technical descriptions, and asked Clancy to make cuts. He complied, trimming at least 100 pages while making revisions.The press paid $5,000 for the book, publishing it in 1984.
The Hunt for Red October became a runaway best seller when President Ronald Reagan, who had been handed a copy, called it "my kind of yarn" and said that he couldn't put it down.
But its details about Soviet submarines, weaponry, satellites and fighter planes raised suspicions. Even high-ranking members of the military took notice of the book's apparent inside knowledge. In a 1986 interview, Clancy said, "When I met Navy Secretary John Lehman last year, the first thing he asked me about the book was, 'Who the hell cleared it?' "
No one did, Clancy insisted; all of his knowledge came from technical manuals, interviews with submarine experts and books on military matters, he said. While he spent time on military bases, visited the Pentagon and dined with military leaders, he said, he did not want to know any classified information.
He followed The Hunt for Red October with Red Storm Rising in 1986, Patriot Games in 1987, The Cardinal of the Kremlin in 1988 and Clear and Present Danger in 1989. The critical reception was warm from the start. Reviewing Red Storm Rising in The Times in 1986, Christopher Lehmann-Haupt wrote that the book "far surpassed" Clancy's debut novel.
Clancy said none of his success came easily, and he would remind aspiring writers of that when he spoke to them. "I tell them you learn to write the same way you learn to play golf," he once said. "You do it, and keep doing it until you get it right. A lot of people think something mystical happens to you, that maybe the muse kisses you on the ear. But writing isn't divinely inspired - it's hard work."
©2013 The New York Times
