LA native Elizabeth McKenzie explores a comic California in ‘Dog of the North’

Elizabeth McKenzie just can’t quit California.

The novelist has lived here her whole life, with the exception of a few years in Boston, and the state is the setting for her first three novels: “Stop That Girl,” “MacGregor Tells the World,” and “The Portable Veblen,” the last of which was set in Palo Alto and was longlisted for the 2016 National Book Award for Fiction.

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She hasn’t gone far with her latest comic novel, “The Dog of the North” — the title a tribute to one of her favorite writers, “The Dog of the South” author Charles Portis. The book, which arrives in stores March 14, mostly takes place in Santa Barbara, where 35-year-old Penny Rush has gone via train after leaving her husband and her job in Santa Cruz. Dr. Pincer, Penny’s unstable, mad scientist grandmother lives in the town, and Pincer’s accountant, Burt Lampey, has asked Penny for help while a cleaning crew tackles the disaster area that is Pincer’s house.

That would be stressful enough, but Penny also has to deal with her ailing grandfather, who’s determined to find Penny’s absent parents, who went missing in Australia years before. There’s also the matters of Burt’s Pomeranian, Kweecoats; a mysterious device her grandmother calls “the Scintillator”; and the titular dog, which is not a dog at all, but rather Burt’s rusty old Econoline. 

McKenzie will discuss “The Dog of the North” at an event at Vroman’s in Pasadena on March 15, along with fellow author Yxta Maya Murray. McKenzie answered questions about her novel via Zoom from her home in Santa Cruz. This conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.

Q. There are so many moving parts in this novel. Was there any particular element that came to you first?

After the last one, I was sketching some scenes that involved the grandparents, but it was in the third person, and also some scenes involving the character of Burt Lampey. But it didn’t really take off until I switched to first person and put her on the train to Santa Barbara, and then it really just clicked after that and came to me really fast in just about a year. I didn’t even know that the whole part about Australia would be in it when I started.

Q. Penny is such a memorable character. How did you come up with her?

Her voice evolved as soon as she was on the train. I realized that she was someone who was awkward and maybe a little obtuse, and I’m really drawn to that kind of character, like the butler, Stevens, in “The Remains of the Day,” or Etsuko in another Kazuo Ishiguro novel, “A Pale View of Hills.” I just really like studying that kind of self-deluded or self-deceived character.

Q. Her life is being upended, but she has this attitude that’s a little resigned and also kind of a little bit amused, too. Where do you think that comes from?

I think that despite all of the trouble that these people in her family are causing her, she still loves them, and that’s where the resignation comes from. She was left with her grandparents after her parents went to Australia, so she’s sort of taken responsibility for them. What else can she do? And her marriage has ended and she’s left her job, which I think in a weird way, is a wonderful time in one’s life, despite how it can also seem scary.

Q. Dr. Pincer is another memorable character. How did you manage to get in the head of someone who is so completely unhinged, not just quirky, but so completely off the wall?

Pincer is based on another family member, and I’ve basically spent my whole life trying to understand her. That person would happen to be my grandmother. I had years of experiences with her, and I’m still processing them. I’ve contacted people she knew in the past to see what they thought of her. So it’s sort of been a life study. I’ve written about her before, in my first book, “Stop That Girl.” She’s a character in that one, Dr. Frost.

Q. Do you find yourself kind of drawn to fiction that balances seriousness with humor?

I do. I think it dates back to telling stories to friends and realizing that the more horrible I made something sound, the funnier I was. [Laughs.] And I also used to try to entertain my grandfather in my letters to him. I just go towards the potential absurdity in a scene naturally. 

Q. “The Portable Veblen” takes place in Palo Alto, and you moved south for this one to Santa Barbara. Was there a reason you decided to set this book there?

I was drawing from my own experiences. Both my grandparents were in Santa Barbara. They were divorced, but they lived about a mile apart and despised each other, but somehow managed, despite living really close to each other, to never see each other. [Laughs.]

Q. It seems like California is a good fit for your fiction.

I think I’m just working with the material that I have at my disposal. I probably would have found things about other states as well, had I been from there. I think I’m trying to cover the whole state. “MacGregor Tells the World” is set in San Francisco. I grew up in L.A.; I’ve written about San Diego. I’ve been in Santa Cruz for a long time, and I still haven’t written too much about that. I’m always looking for the lost domain, so these are like the lost domains of my California life.

Q. A squirrel plays a big part in “Veblen,” and in this one, there’s Kweecoats the Pomeranian, as well as a talking fish. Are you personally an animal lover?

I am. I love that they’re speechless, but they give so much and they communicate without speech. They always creep into my fiction. I can’t really explain why, but they’re important to me, and I want to acknowledge them. I like to paint animals; it’s just my preoccupation, I guess. Joy Williams said that every story should have an animal in it, and I agree with her.