Conjuring a serial killer is an interesting pastime. To make
a killer real requires delving into parts of oneself that perhaps one doesn’t
wish to examine. Then again…
Who hasn’t given over to a nasty flight of fancy when
somebody out there really pissed them off? It isn’t something we necessarily
share with others, these evil imaginings, but we’ve all engaged in it at least
once and probably more than any of us would care to admit. When writing a
killer, especially a seriously deranged killer, those flights of fancy are a
mere stepping off point and pretty soon, take on a life of their own upon the
page.
My killer begins slowly, with a nasty little missive sent in
the Christmas mail. The serial killer inside hasn’t yet been born, but it is
gestating and has been gestating since age ten when my killer squeezed the
family pet canary to death and then went to the kitchen for some milk and
cookies. Jealousy is the fuel that fires the killer and as my protagonist,
Emily Simonson, becomes more and more successful, the killer becomes more and
more enraged. Taking the leap from killing a canary to torturing and killing
women who look like Emily is a journey that I, as an author, had to imagine,
construct and make plausible. So I had to get inside the head of my killer, and
let the reader know what is going on inside that head.
For example:
Let’s see, what kind of message would make a
lasting impression on Little Miss I’m So Fucking Special? Or maybe I should amend that to Big Miss. A giggle there. God, she is so... so...
large. Big bones, big frame, big fucking head, thinking she’s so much better
than anyone else. Miss Look At Me I’m On Television. No, don’t go off on a
tangent, just stick to what’s important, and what’s important here is to make
her squirm. Like a worm. Squirm like a worm.
Laughing
again. Picking up the telephone and dialing the number and waiting. Waiting to
hear that oh so perky greeting. But
instead of her annoying voice there’s that chiming noise from the phone company
and then a computer-generated message. “We’re sorry but the number you have
dialed is no longer in service. Please check your directory and dial again.”
Feverishly depressing the hang-up button and redialing only to hear the same
message. Slamming down the phone, in a temper now.
She changed her number! The fucking bitch
changed her number! Thinks she can escape that easy, huh? Well, we’ll just see
about that! But how? What can I do?
Pacing back
and forth, twirling a lock of hair. Tighter and tighter until the pain comes.
Like it’s being pulled out at the roots. Twisting it tighter yet. Trying to
think but thought is so difficult under the circumstances. Feeling so all alone
and misunderstood.
“We’ll have to make quite an impression on her
this time.” The voice of the Guardian, so silky smooth and soft, whispering.
“You have to let her know she’s dealing with someone who means business.”
A feeling of relief. No longer alone. Now
there’s someone who knows what to do, who can offer advice. Who can plan. Thank
God there’s someone who knows.
What should I do? How can I let her know
that?
“It’s all
in the details.”
What kind of details?
A moaning
sound, almost like an orgasm, an expression of sublime pleasure. “Oh, all sorts
of details. Come, learn at the feet of the master.”
Yes.
“We are
about to change Little Miss Emily’s life.”
A wince as the hated name scrapes the eardrums
much as fingernails drawn across a chalkboard.
“Are you prepared?”
Yes.
“Then let
us begin.”
I got about three quarters of the way through writing CRAZY
when I thought perhaps I’d better see how my serial killer stood up to the real
thing. It was eye opening. So many of the things I had my killer do were the
hallmarks of some of the more famous serial killers of our time, even though I
hadn’t been aware of their actions. It’s kind of scary in a way, but it’s also
exhilarating because it tells me that my imagination is steering me right and
ultimately, the story will have the ring of truth, albeit a strange and awful
truth. Then it will be up to you, the reader, to decide whether my efforts make
the grade.
You can check out my forthcoming novel and read a couple of
chapters here: