In the face of
the violence exploding all over the world, especially the deaths of so many
children in Pakistan at the hands of sub-humans, I’m finding I have to gird
myself to get up the gumption to write about death and murder.
I asked myself
yesterday, How can I write about fictional murder when actual atrocities are
occurring right now?
Not having an
answer, I went ahead and got my quota for the day written. Actually, I exceeded
it and had a good writing day. It’s nice to have an alternate world that I can
retreat into. A world where order reigns supreme—after the disorder gets taken
care of.
After quite a bit
of thought, I realized that this is something I’ve told myself and others many
times. What I do as a mystery writer is very different. I’m turning the tables,
setting the crime on its head. In my fiction, the murderer gets caught and
justice is done. In real life, that doesn’t always happen. Fiction gives me a
chance to display good triumphing over evil. Fiction isn’t real life. It’s
better.
Also, I never
kill children.
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