I’m often asked how I come up with my stories. To be honest, they tend to begin with a random thought that just kind of grows and feeds upon itself. For example, Fatal Compulsions was born out of a need to physically hurt someone. Let me explain this further before people who live close to me read this and begin to panic..
Before Fatal Compulsions was a book, it was one of those random thoughts that just pop into the mind out of seemingly nowhere. I was angry, bitterly so. You know that anger that is black in nature, the kind that leads you to believe that you might actually cause someone else physical harm? It was that moment when I reached that depth in myself, that my subconscious mind met my conscious mind and began to create scenarios on how to inflict the most harm in the most satisfying ways.
I should point out here that I can be very creative and twisted. However, I don’t believe myself capable of acting upon any of my imaginings. For one, I know I’d too easily be caught for my crimes. For another, I’m not exactly the violent type when it comes to putting thought to actions. Good thing too.
But I digress. So once my imagination began creating ways to exact revenge, it then needed to come up with a means to escape punishment for any potential criminal acts. As my mind began along this train of supposition, it naturally flowed from being angry to creating a whole story about crimes that went unpunished.
When I reach this point, my “fantasies” take on a life of their own and become an alternate reality that I dabble in mentally until the story clamors to be written down. I find that if I don’t write these stories down, they become obsessive thoughts that refuse to let me rest. They have already taken on a life of their own and demand to be birthed in the form of a book.
Now, not all my imaginings make it through the birthing process. Most die a slow and ignominious death at various points along the mental development stage.. But some are lucky enough to reach maturity. Hence the birth of Fatal Compulsions.
Word of warning to those who know me, don’t piss me off. One of two things may happen. You may end up in a case of “life mimicking fiction”. Or even worse, you may become immortalized in one of my books. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.