In 1946, before Yerby left America for Europe, Dial (with whom he has remained for the entirety of his career) brought out his first novel, The Foxes of Harrow. However, he rightly insists, you can't judge books by their color. Part black, part Scotch-Irish, part American Indian, he explains his expatriation in a voice that still has a definite southern flavor: "I had one solution to the racial problems of the United States - I bought an airline ticket." But his flippancy is a mask for old wounds that must still smart, and three of his books have featured black protagonists. "A writer who has no audience isn't much of a writer," says Georgia-born Frank Yerby, speaking from his home on the outskirts of Madrid, where he has lived since 1956. His mother spanked him, he says, when he was a child because he was continually making up stories, but readers in a dozen languages have reason to be grateful her discipline didn't stick. FIFTY MILLION COPIES of his 29 novels have been sold worldwide, and the 30th, Western, is being published this month.
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