Familiar Names, New Pages -- In The Air, At The Track, Back In Time: Three Authors Return With Books On Flying, Horses And Fdr -- Dick Francis -- With `Horses,' Another Sprint To The Top Spot

At 73, Dick Francis still races with the same competitive drive that propelled him to the top of England's steeplechase ranks in the 1950s. The only difference is that now the finish line is the top spot on bestseller lists. His opponents are fellow writers.

"I've been No. 1 in Los Angeles, I've been No. 1 in Washington, D.C.," he says of previous years' novels. "But I've been No. 2 in New York." Francis doesn't like the No. 2 spot, and just passed through Seattle on a U.S. book-signing tour in an attempt to rectify the situation.

Within weeks of its release in England, his new mystery, "Wild Horses" (Putnam, $22.95), sprinted to No. 1 on the London Times bestseller list. "But it won't be No. 1 over here," he adds with a touch of resignation. "My books don't sell quite as many as some of my competitors' books. But we shall see . . ."

Like other Francis fare, "Wild Horses" won't disappoint loyal readers expecting a hero who doesn't recognize his own capabilities until he's faced with the dastardly doings of others. In this novel, a young movie director, Thomas Lyon, untangles a 26-year-old unsolved maybe-murder/maybe-suicide while filming in the heart of England's steeplechase country: Newmarket.

The book is another true-blue Dick Francis - a fast read, intelligent, and a few horrific scenes described with a British reserve that makes them all the more horrifying.

Unlike his characters, who discover their capabilities within 200 pages or so, Francis discovered his own power as a mystery writer rather slowly. Possessing little formal education and the experience of a first career that involved jumping fast horses over imposing fences, he began writing a horse-racing column for London's Sunday Express in 1957.

A new career

But the newspaper business wasn't as lucrative for Francis as winning 350 races and riding for such owners as Britain's Queen Mother. By the early '60s, he and his wife Mary decided he ought to embark on career No. 3: mystery writer. For the next decade, he wrote his column for the Express and one novel a year. In doing so, he garnered a worldwide following of fans every bit as loyal as those who once cheered him on from bleachers overlooking grassy oval tracks. Yet he waited 10 years before letting go of his newspaper job.

"The first half-dozen books weren't bestsellers," he explains. "We had our boys to educate, and we wanted to keep up our standard of living. . . . That's why I kept on the job at the Sunday Express, because I didn't know whether or not I could keep on churning out books." In March 1973, he finally decided he could, and gave notice at the paper.

Twenty-one years later, Francis still writes one novel a year. He usually begins writing in January and always hands over a finished manuscript to his publisher in mid-May. He proudly says he's never missed a deadline either at the newspaper or at his publisher. His finished work is so tautly written and error-free that by late summer the manuscript already has become a glossy hardcover book in England and the United States. Later, it will be translated into 30 languages, including Norwegian, Bantu and Japanese.

Francis finishes this annual routine by globe trotting with Mary to encourage the book-buying public to part with another $22 or so, and help speed him on his way up the bestseller lists. Thus far, about the only retirement-type thing they have done is leave England for most of the year, but that's more because of Mary's asthma. They now have a primary residence in the Cayman Islands and a condo in Fort Lauderdale.

Francis and his wife do spend some time in England, where he's become a household name. And he still makes an annual trek there for the Grand National - the biggest race he never won. There are several horse races named for him. Perhaps his favorites are those held at Bangor-On-Dee. "I had my first ever ride in a steeplechase there," he recalls fondly. "I had my first winner there." That is also the track where he won three races in one day.

Although she doesn't like too much recognition, Mary Francis has been instrumental in Francis' book-a-year schedule. He calls her his chief editor and researcher. She learned photography for "Reflex," took flying lessons for "Flying Finish" and studied up on pharmacology and merchant banking for "Banker." Her personal experience with polio - contracted when she was pregnant with the elder of their two sons - supplied Francis with the idea for "Forfeit."

That mystery, published in 1968, is his most autobiographical, Francis says. The hero is a newspaper columnist; his wife is a polio victim. "That's why I wrote the story, actually," he says. "To tell people what polio victims had to suffer and put up with."

A good partnership

After more than 45 years of marriage and 33 years of novels, Dick and Mary Francis know they make a good team. "When we're researching, it's two sets of eyes and two sets of ears," he explains. "We absorb quite a lot, and what one doesn't absorb or remember the other one does. It's very much a joint effort."

Francis has no intention of slowing his pace and is not particularly happy about being asked why he is still writing.

He sighs. "Well, we live in the Caymans, and it's a long way from England," he says, adding that he and Mary foot the bill for the passage of visiting sons and their families. They also pay for an annual all-family summer retreat in England and pay for the education of some of their eight grandchildren - as they paid for the education of their two sons. "Money doesn't grow on trees," he says. "Every time a new book is published, people buy the old books. Money isn't in the drawers. We have to earn it."

Hope C. McPherson trained horses for 10 years before becoming a freelance writer.