I remember the first time I killed someone. I’d avoided it for weeks. Planning, talking about it, studying the results but the kill it self? I just couldn’t do it.
Until I picked the right person. Squinted so I didn’t see it happen. Then it was easy.
Sound creepy? I’m just talking about the first character I killed. We’re writers that’s what we do. And don’t go saying, oh this inspirational writer – the writer who creates characters who are widows or who have misscarages? Yeah, we deal in death. Moving on. So this character, his name is a combination of two boys I suffered through knowing. Cheap therapy. And I didn’t actually describe the death itself, just the crime scene and body. Since then killing characters has been easier. I’m working on the first draft of SAR my second Amazon book, and this is the beginning of a chapter. I use a similar talk-to-self-method as David Morrell
Okay, next scene to work on? Let’s do the other murder. Kee Ping she looks a lot younger than she is and has lead a solitary like with men in and out. She has recently met a total nerd. He is a neurosurgeon and in his mid-thirties, half her age. He has none of the romantic skills her normal lovers have nor the good looks yet she’s fallen for the first time. Fallen hard. He’s sent her flowers, a dozen roses and though she appreciates it she also thinks that he should of at least sent two dozen or an exotic arrangement. Though the card is sweet. More than sweet. She sits at the end of her bed. She should at least call and thank him for the flowers.
And then I couldn’t kill her. The poor nerd. I love nerds. Next thing I knew I’d written twenty pages in a single sitting and reached the end. Oh, it needs serious work but it’s all there. Just from trying to kill her. Geuss I’ll have to attempt murder more often.