Yesterday (Friday) I started Wired for Murder, my new murder mystery. I knew this would happen; I am deep into detectives Jon Mull and Manny Gonzales trying to catch yet another vicious serial killer. So deep in fact, that I am living the horrible nightmare of atrocious murders and mind-bending clues page by page, moment by moment.
I am the villain committing violent murder – and then I become a detective trying to follow the ugly clues that will help me catch the bad guy. I swing back and forth like the pendulum of an antique grandfather clock. Good guy, evil guy…back and forth until I think my brain will shatter into a million pieces of clues and grisly murders.
Today, I am asking why I put myself through this hell to write a novel. The answer is simple; I am an author and that is what I do. It doesn’t matter if I am successful or not in a monetary sense – all that matters is that I complete the novel and publish. If only one person reads Wired for Murder and they give it a review like the rest of my murder mysteries, then I am happy and fulfilled.
It is no wonder that I took nine months off after writing Evil in the Mirror, Day Stalker and The Phoenix Code. My heart and soul were heavy with grief and sorrow for not only the victims of the Twins, Otis Buford and Prescott Williams, but for the villains as well. When my characters die, I also die a little too. I felt drained and withered like a prune – there was not one bit of sweetness left in the fruit. I am sure that after Wired for Murder is completed, I will again retreat into my shell to recover from the mental and emotional strain of writing yet another grisly, yet compelling murder mystery.