Cruelly derivative

I wrote this first as a comment, then decided it needed it’s own place on the blog.

It occurred to me, as I reread the blog about Fluffy, that I kill people in my books (and yes, I kill animals and chidren, too) but I am not preoccupied with cruelty. As Karin’s husband (the cop!) or Lee can no doubt tell you, there’s a lot of homicide that happens not because of cruelty, but because of impulse, stupidity, rage, accident, even indifference (witness the guy who watched his wife drive over the edge of a cliff).

Cruelty is a special circumstance, and it makes me queasy. I don’t really want to spend time there. Probably a reason I don’t like to read about serial killers, per se, although a good book about them, an interesting book that doesn’t rest on cliches - that is something I can enjoy.

Writers always write about something. There’s some underlying theme in their stories, sometimes a theme they aren’t even aware of. People do the same things over and over again, and I think writers try one or two problems from several angles, and would be surprised how similar in theme their books are. I write about some forms of cruelty, but I have to say the infantile cruelty of the sadistic sociopath leaves me cold.

I can do a spree killer. I can do a serial killer. But there’s nothing in my makeup that can get me to put the truly cruel actions on stage. The result of actions, yes. But if the only way to write a really good book is to have that “fire in the belly” and show somebody blinding a helpless person or other horrific things onstage, well, I guess I don’t have it.

Doesn’t mean I write cozies. I dealt with an internet sexual predator who lures children in DARKNESS ON THE EDGE OF TOWN.

I said this over at MSW: too many people, a lot of them just getting into the biz but also a bunch of lazy old “pros”, write the same book as hundreds of other people. You always have a slightly veiled scene of someone torturing someone else (usually a woman). It’s supposed to be chilling and depraved, but it bores me to tears. There have simply been too many of them. When I wrote my first horror novel, I was reading the same damn prologue in every book I picked up. (Late eighties.) It struck me as both derivative and infantile. And ultimately, boring.

There’s always a lot of talk about “going all the way” in a book. That if you don’t show every torture, you’re “not doing right by your readers”. Nope. Not true. You’re a writer, which means that at heart you’re a manipulative son-of-a-bitch. You can freak people out and destroy their minds with the simplest of actions. It’s called finesse. It’s called knowing when to hold ‘em, and when to fold ‘em. There’s nothing brave about following the lead of every beginning thriller writer hunched over his prologue thinking he’s tremendously original because the guy wears makeup while he’s slitting “the whore’s throat”.

You have to get underneath that to what’s real. And beyond it, if you ever want to reach people where they live. And get to what they really fear most.