Find the Bad in the Benign
It occurred to me recently that one of the hazards of writing crime novels is the tendency to search for the bad in the benign.
The thing about writing (at least for me) is that you never really stop. As I go throughout my day, doing the usual, some part of me is always watching, noting, filing away.
Example: since I am such a big wimp, I get my dental work done under IV sedation whenever possible. The thing that amazed me from the first about this is how powerful those drugs are. I remember the first time I had it done, the anesthesiologist put the needle in my arm and then attached the heart rate monitor. I was nervous, so my heart was going at about 160 beats a minute. He raised an eyebrow and said: "Hm - let me help you with that." He injected something into the IV and the next thing I knew... sixty beats a minute and pure, unfettered bliss. 'Go ahead,' I thought, 'pull 'em all, no big deal...' Then he gave me the real stuff and the space inside my head exploded into a bright white light. I started making memories again hours later, when I woke up on my couch.
That's all well and good, problem is, I had a moment for one final thought before oblivion and it was 'this would be a hell of a tool for a serial killer...'
Another time I was in a hardware store. It was a Sunday and I needed an extension cord. I was trying to keep my head down, get what I needed and get out. Then, I saw him. He was about six feet five and he hunched forward a little over his shopping cart. His lower jaw jutted forward a bit and he seemed to be wearing a permanent scowl - until he found the garden shears, that is. He held them in his huge hands and scissored them a few times. His eyes lit up, followed by a tremendous, toothy smile of pure pleasure. 'Who's waiting in your basement?' I thought. Then his daughter ran up to him. She looked to be about four, and she giggled as he scooped her up in his arms. 'Stereotypes,' I thought, chastising myself. But then I frowned... after all, BTK was a family man, too...
Anytime I'm driving down the highway and I see a flat-panel van, I have to wonder for a moment what the cops would find if they took a close look with an ultraviolet light.
Heck, even my brother gets in on the act. He was renting a house once and we went down into the basement. He was using it as a music room and I noticed that the walls had been sound-proofed. He'd only been there for a month, so I commented that he'd worked pretty fast to put all that sound-proofing up. 'Oh,' he said, 'that was already here when we rented the place.' I looked at him, he looked at me, and he nodded. 'Yep,' he said, reading my mind, 'I thought the same thing. He probably used it as a kill-room.'
Then we laughed, and took turns playing the guitar. It was a great evening, but before I fell asleep that night, I took a moment to wonder:
Kill-room?
Nah. Probably not.
But not impossible...
The thing about writing (at least for me) is that you never really stop. As I go throughout my day, doing the usual, some part of me is always watching, noting, filing away.
Example: since I am such a big wimp, I get my dental work done under IV sedation whenever possible. The thing that amazed me from the first about this is how powerful those drugs are. I remember the first time I had it done, the anesthesiologist put the needle in my arm and then attached the heart rate monitor. I was nervous, so my heart was going at about 160 beats a minute. He raised an eyebrow and said: "Hm - let me help you with that." He injected something into the IV and the next thing I knew... sixty beats a minute and pure, unfettered bliss. 'Go ahead,' I thought, 'pull 'em all, no big deal...' Then he gave me the real stuff and the space inside my head exploded into a bright white light. I started making memories again hours later, when I woke up on my couch.
That's all well and good, problem is, I had a moment for one final thought before oblivion and it was 'this would be a hell of a tool for a serial killer...'
Another time I was in a hardware store. It was a Sunday and I needed an extension cord. I was trying to keep my head down, get what I needed and get out. Then, I saw him. He was about six feet five and he hunched forward a little over his shopping cart. His lower jaw jutted forward a bit and he seemed to be wearing a permanent scowl - until he found the garden shears, that is. He held them in his huge hands and scissored them a few times. His eyes lit up, followed by a tremendous, toothy smile of pure pleasure. 'Who's waiting in your basement?' I thought. Then his daughter ran up to him. She looked to be about four, and she giggled as he scooped her up in his arms. 'Stereotypes,' I thought, chastising myself. But then I frowned... after all, BTK was a family man, too...
Anytime I'm driving down the highway and I see a flat-panel van, I have to wonder for a moment what the cops would find if they took a close look with an ultraviolet light.
Heck, even my brother gets in on the act. He was renting a house once and we went down into the basement. He was using it as a music room and I noticed that the walls had been sound-proofed. He'd only been there for a month, so I commented that he'd worked pretty fast to put all that sound-proofing up. 'Oh,' he said, 'that was already here when we rented the place.' I looked at him, he looked at me, and he nodded. 'Yep,' he said, reading my mind, 'I thought the same thing. He probably used it as a kill-room.'
Then we laughed, and took turns playing the guitar. It was a great evening, but before I fell asleep that night, I took a moment to wonder:
Kill-room?
Nah. Probably not.
But not impossible...
posted by Cody McFadyen at
9:10 AM
7 Comments:
i started reading your books several months ago,and was hooked straight away.i couldn,t put them down. when i read a book i like to picture the characters and when it came to smoky ....hobbit came to mind i just wish you could have given her a few more inches.she,s a tough wee cookie and deserves to be taller,please keep writing your books there great...with regards maggie...(5ft 1 tall).
It would be interesting if, in a later story, one of the other characters in the ensemble were to tell the tale in first person,say Callie or James. On the other hand, I've read all of the books in the series and it definitely "ain't broke", so it doesn't need fixing. Looking forward to "Abandoned" with great anticipation.
after passsing your first book several times in a book store and sneak around it like a panther, not knowing what caught my attention, I decided to give up and get it. Best decision for long, concerning books. I was thrilled, caught, fascinated. My heart was beating faster, when it got dangerous and thrilling. I couldn't stop reading it, read on the way home of the train, walking and hoping not to pass the street before looking for cars. Every time the train-ride or walk was coming to an end I was sad, sighing and hoping for the next time, I would get a chance to go on reading. After the first 50 pages, I knew what to do next... get all your other books! Thats what led me tonight to this page, hoping to read, that your next one is coming out soon. Here in Germany it will take some time, but good old amazon will safe me and short my waiting time! You are one of my most favored authors in this genre. Your subtle and in the same way deep way to write is just great, sorry for not finding a better word.
Thanks for lighting up my day with the good news of more up coming books!
And sorry for my bad english,... it's been a while
This is such an interesting post. I have discovered as a reader of thrillers that I do the same thing! Personally, I don't like it. It makes me feel very skeptical and distrusting of people. I have to throw other genres into the mix to distract my mind. However, that doesn't prohibit me from being extremely excited that you have more books in the works!
I hope your move was without difficulties and that you are content with your new arrangements.
My daughter and I are huge fans of your books. Once we were talking and I asked her..."what is the first thing you think of when you're driving down the road and see a plastic bag or rolled up carpet on the side of the road?". Without missing a beat, she said, "Dead body". Which, of course, is exactly what I think as well... we both laugh about that to this day.
Hi everyone,
Thanks for the comments, my apologies for taking so long to get around to them... it's been an insane, wonderful three months, and now my life is my own again!
:)
I've just finished your first two books and about to buy the Darker Side. I really love these books. It's hard to acknowledge that I love reading about 'sick' serial killers but they are my favourite kind of reading. You and Steig Larsson (Switzerland) are my two favourites at the moment. Keep it going. I can't exchange my thoughts with too many people as they sort of think I am weird for liking this stuff. Have been an avid reader since 13(now 64) and started with Cell 2455 Death Row (Caroll Chessman story). Please keep it up and I'll have something to keep me going.
x
Mary G, Australia
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