Posts Tagged ‘Snake’

Snake Excerpt: The Profile

Posted: July 16, 2012 in Novel, Scary Stuff, Writing
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Cool snake photo I found online. You like it?

Hey all. Just thought I’d give you another excerpt from my novel-in-progress, Snake. This time around I thought I’d show you guys my criminal profiler, Special Agent Angela Murtz, giving her idea of who the serial killer might be. I’ve been working with a forensic psychologist, whose been a great help at not only coming up with the profile, but also looking at my killer with unclouded eyes (by that I mean he knows only what the police in the novel know, whereas I know everything, and that can be a bit of a problem).

Hope you like what you read, and I promise at some point I’ll do an excerpt featuring the killer himself. Oh, and guess what? This is officially my one-hundredth post! Woo-hoo! Big milestone, huh?

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Patton sighed. “What kind of freak are we dealing with here? He knows just about every trick in the book.”

“I think that might be because he’s ex-military.” said Murtz.

“Ex-military?” Gramer repeated; both Gramer and Patton fixed their attention on Murtz.

“Yes, but not American.” Murtz went on. “Most likely he’s a native Russian male, between the ages of thirty and forty-five, and has extensive experience with weapons, especially firearms. He’s been in country at least ten years, might be a taxi driver himself, and may or may not have ties to the Russian mob here.”

  “And he’s killing because…?” asked Patton.

“He thinks he’s better at delivering justice to criminals than the police.” Murtz explained. “And he’s doing it in such a way that both the police and the Camerlengos know about it. He craves attention, which is why he’s acting like Daredevil, a lone vigilante. If we were to send him a message through the media, he’d likely respond to it in the hopes we’d give him more press time.”

“Let’s hold off on sending this guy a love letter through the newspaper or television.” Gramer instructed. “Candace Berman’s already been on the news saying hter might be a mafia-hunting serial killer on the loose in New York, only she said that in more idealistic terms.”

“Sounds like something she’d do.” said Harnist.

“See if anyone matches Murtz’s profile here in New York.” commanded Patton. “Contact INS and see if they have any Russian ex-military in their system. And Murtz?”

 “Yes sir?”

 “What’s the likelihood this guy will kill again?” asked Patton.

 Murtz looked Patton straight in the eye and said, “Likely. Extremely likely.”

Understanding Psychopathy A Little Better

Posted: July 9, 2012 in Novel, Reflections, Scary Stuff, Writing
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I decided that I wanted to do a little studying of psychopaths, since I’m writing a novel involving serial killer. I heard about a book by journalist Jon Ronson called “The Psychopath Test” and decided to take a look at it. I learned a lot (but I won’t be doing a review of it for my own reasons):

For instance, while “psychopath” and “sociopath” are practically interchangeable terms, “psychopaths” and “serial killers” aren’t, which I think some people believe. Serial killers may suffer from any of a hole host of mental disorders besides psychopathy (bipolar, delusions, schizophrenia, psychosis, etc), or they may just be motivated by the usual suspects for committing crimes: greed, anger, or for a thrill. Psychopaths are individuals who are unable to feel emotions, probably due to a problem in their amygdala.

I also learned a few things about diagnosing psychopaths, including checklists used to identify psychopaths (which, if you should get your hands on one, you should not use thinking it’s a wonder tool for diagnosing killers; only trained professionals can really make use of those checklists, and usually in tandem with several other tools, including history of violence, interviews with patients, and several other factors. It still didn’t stop me from trying to diagnose real and fictional people, though). And the theory of psychopaths as some of the top people on Wall Street and in major corporations was explored, with some very interesting conclusions.

So, how does this relate to Snake? Well, I can say this much; my serial killer is not a psychopath (though another character certainly is!). However, he probably is suffering from another mental disorder, and I have no idea what it could be, so I’ll have to check it out once I find somebody who can give me an idea of what a profiler might think of my character based on just his murders. If you know anyone like that who could help, please don’t hesitate to tell me.

Snake Prologue: First Draft Done

Posted: July 4, 2012 in Novel, Progress Report, Scary Stuff, Writing
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I know thrillers are supposed to have short chapters but I never expected it to be this simple to finish! I mean, it’s just the prologue, and it’s only four chapters, but it still seemed to fly by. No wonder people like James Patterson can get several novels published in a year, averaging 1 novel per series they write in: they have the time of day to spend on several different projects!

Anyway, the first draft of the prologue of Snake is done. It seemed to flow through my fingers onto the keyboard, I tell ya, and I enjoyed writing it (though writing out the torture scene so as to arouse terror in a possible reader was difficult, I’ll admit). Overall, the entire prologue was 15 Microsoft Word pages, a little over 4,000 words, and the average amount of time it took to write a chapter was maybe an hour to an hour and forty-five minutes.

If you want to read a little of Snake, you can head back to about two days ago, where I printed a small excerpt from the first chapter. Warning, there are bad words in it, so if you object to such things, I suggest you ignore this final paragraph. Once again, happy 4th of July!

Snake: First Chapter Preview

Posted: July 2, 2012 in Living and Life, Novel, Progress Report, Scary Stuff, Writing
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I and most of Central Ohio lost power Friday, so I haven’t had Internet all weekend. Plus when I tried to use a public computer, the Internet was soo slooow that before I knew it, I had to be at my next thing before I could finish reading posts or checking my dashboard. Well, I’m making up for that right now, and I’m doing it by first writing this post, which has a small excerpt from my new novel-in-progress Snake.

I managed to write this Saturday night, using what little power I had left on my laptop. As I wrote by candlelight and computer screen, feeling almost like a modern-day Edgar Allen Poe, I felt the words flowing through me, from my fingertips to the computer. It was exhilarating, and I managed to finish the chapter before I had to turn off my computer to conserve the battery.

I hope you like what you read. If I find any time or if I get my electricity back by this evening, I’ll do a little more work.

~~~

(Warning: The following preview features some very bad words, so if you have kids, I suggest you make sure they’re not around when you read this post.)

 

Paul felt a buzz in his pocket and looked down. Through the fabric in his pants Paul could see the light from his phone shining through. Paul reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and dove into a little alcove where he could take the call in peace. Without checking the number he pressed the talk button and brought the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” said Paul; on the other end all he could hear was a deep breathing. Paul raised his eyebrows suspiciously. “Who is this?” He checked the caller ID, and saw only UNKNOWN NUMBER.

Suddenly the person at the other end of the phone spoke. “Men in your line of business have no right to be in a church, Mr. Sanonia.”

Paul stared at the phone, surprised. Glancing quickly around the church, he saw only three people, and none of them were on their phones. How did this person know where he was and how did he get his number? He looked back at the phone and spoke into the mouthpiece. “Who the fuck is this?”

The man on the other end laughed, a deep, hearty laugh that for some reason chilled Paul’s skin. “When your cousin James Sanonia died, he was shot in the head.” said the man, his voice deep and affected with a heavy Russian accent. “Then several bones were broken all over his body. He was then taken from wherever he was killed and thrown in the Hudson. Dockworkers saw his body floating and pulled him up out of the water. By the time they got him though, there was nothing to identify your cousin’s murderer. Except for one interesting detail, that is.”

Paul froze, his heart beating loudly in his chest. Who was this guy? How did he know all that? “And what was that detail?” he asked through gritted teeth.

The man spoke, and Paul froze. “You killed my cousin.” he hissed angrily. “You killed Jamie.”

“Horrible thing, wasn’t it?” said the Russian man. “I couldn’t get what I wanted out of your cousin. But I’m sure you’ll be much more helpful.”

Paul was only half-listening; he was looking around the Church, trying to find someone—anyone!—on a phone. One of the other worshippers, a teenage girl with a skirt too short for the cold February weather, got out of a pew while texting. Besides her, no one else seemed to have a phone.

“Where the fuck are you, you crazy shit!” Paul whispered into the phone. “Come on out and face me like a man!”

“But there is no fun in that.” replied the Russian man. “Besides, you’re so much more amusing to watch.”

Paul stepped out of the alcove, looking around the church. “Watch?” he repeated.

“Oh, didn’t I mention it?” asked the Russian man. “I’m right in the church with you.”

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