This is the first part of a two-part interview about Donald E. Westlake’s latest book, What's So Funny?

Certain writers have influenced my writing style, for good or ill. The late great Kurt Vonnegut showed me that I can inject myself into my stories and even break through traditional walls between the writer and the reader.  Molly Ivins and Art Buchwald showed me that one can combine wit with politics and get across a message, perhaps sneaking some good insights into readers' minds while they are busy laughing.  Donald Westlake showed me that I can write in my favorite genre, mysteries, and make it damn funny. Lawrence Block’s Burglar Who... series is also pretty funny at times, and new novelist Lisa Lutz shows promise. 

But I can’t think of another comic crime writer who is as consistently funny as Donald Westlake. What's So Funny? — as with many books by Westlake — features the unlucky John Dortmunder. Through good intentions and plenty of planning, he tries to show that crime can indeed pay. But his plans often go up in flames, which is to Dortmunder a disaster but to the reader a howling delight.

As with Lawrence Block, Donald Westlake can also write dark, most notably chronicling the adventures of Parker under the pseudonym Richard Stark.

Scott Butki: Mr. Westlake, I want to repeat that it is a honor and great pleasure to communicate with you. First, I am not sure what to call you. Which do you prefer: The comic crime caper captain or master of many (un)mundane mystery masterpieces? Yes, I'm a sucker for alliteration.

Donald Westlake: Go with the C string.  But how about promoting me to commander?

What is your latest story about? This is another in the adventures of poor John Dortmunder, right? 

In 1917, in the middle of WW1, Russia had its two revolutions.  Chaos. The British had left a large store of munitions up in Murmansk, to use against the Germans if they chose to invade Germany from the east.  Now they didn't want the damn Red Army to get those arms, so the British and the U.S. sent several hundred troops into northern Russia, where they fought the Red Army for 2 years, 1918-1920, unencumbered by any declaration of war, that being the only time U.S. soldiers fought Russian soldiers on Russian soil.  All this is true.  Now we invent.  What if (which is where all stories come from, by the way) a valuable chess set, gift for the czar, sailed into Murmansk while the war was going on, got lost in the shuffle, found in 1920 by a platoon of American troops, who smuggled it home, where more shenanigans took place, so it became lost again.  Now it's been found and descendants of those soldiers want Dortmunder to get it back.