Writers in the Storm

By Eldred Bird

As part of the research for one of my current works in progress (I have about a dozen at any given time…don’t judge me), I’ve been digging into the world of investigating serial killers to build a better villain.

My protagonist is a deep, well rounded, and well-thought-out character. He has real substance. But my antagonist? Not so much. I came to the realization my villain lacked what he needed to pose a true challenge to this brilliant, no-nonsense investigator. I needed someone just as capable but bent in the opposite direction. Thus began my quest.

My search took me deep into the dark underbelly of the Internet where the ever-present A.I. algorithms threw suggestions into my path. I followed the links until one of them reached up and hit me in the face like a Mike Tyson left-cross. It was a video about the F.B.I. Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU) and how they go about building a profile to help identify who committed a specific crime or series of crimes.

The detectives of the BAU developed a set of criteria designed to construct what usually turns out to be a fairly accurate picture of the perpetrator when the law finally catches up to them. My first thought was why not reverse engineer the process and use the same criteria to build a serial killer? Brilliant, right?

The Five Criteria

FBI agents spent years going into prisons to interview murderers and serial killers. They collected information not only about their crimes, victims, and motivations, but also their childhoods, as well as behaviors before and after committing their acts. According to retired FBI profiler Jim Clemente, the BAU agents ended up determining five main areas of focus when building a profile. These are:

• Victimology – Why this particular victim?
• Location – Physical or geographic location of the body.
• Crime Scene – Details of the actual crime scene and evidence left behind.
• Organization Level –Does the killing appear to be planned or unplanned?
• Pre and Post behaviors – What behavioral changes are likely to be displayed by the perpetrator?

So, what does all of this mean to us as writers? Let’s dig into each of the criteria and see how we can apply them to our own villains.

Victimology

Like the name says, victimology focuses on the victim of the crime. Who are they and why was this particular victim chosen? Were they just in the wrong place at the wrong time, or targeted for a specific reason? If this is a series of murders, what do the victims have in common? Does the killer have a type? Maybe the victims are surrogates for someone in the killer's past. 

We can use this information to build a back story for our killer. Were they abused by a parent or other relative? Maybe they were rejected by someone they desired. Our villain may be working up to confront the real object of their anger. Or maybe their first victim was the true target and now they’re haunted by the image and are devolving.

Location

Where a victim is found can tell the BAU agents a lot. Is the area hidden and remote, or public and easily accessed? Many serial killers have a preferred hunting ground. Others may have a favorite dump site. The geographic location of a body may point to the killer’s comfort zone—an area they are familiar with and feel safe operating within. The killer may even live nearby.

The location of the body may be a secondary crime scene, with the actual killing taking place somewhere else. The location of the primary and/or secondary scene may also hold some significance for the perpetrator. Is it the site of their first kill? Maybe this is where they experienced the trauma that sent them down their dark path.

Trying to hide the victim may indicate our antagonist has shame or remorse, whereas leaving them in full view could be a sign of brash confidence. This criterion can help us establish some of the psychological elements of our villains.

Crime Scene

Crime scenes not only yield physical evidence, but also give the agents a look into the mind of the killer.

• How long did they remain at the scene?
• What was their level of sophistication?
• Did they try to clean up the scene?
• Was the body moved, posed, or left where it fell?
• What kind of weapon, if any, did they use?
• Did they leave the weapon behind?

Using the method chosen to kill gives us a chance to draw out specific details about the psyche of our villain and what fuels their killing machine. The use of a gun, especially a rifle, may show that they prefer to kill from a distance, while wielding a knife is more close-up and violent. And barehanded killings like beating or choking? These types of murders take time and great physical effort. They are usually very personal and may show a strong connection between our victim and our killer.

Organization Level

Organized killers plan ahead. They think things through, bring whatever they need to commit their crime, and leave little or nothing behind. For them it may be just as much about the lead-up to the act as it is the act itself. On the other end of the spectrum, unorganized killers are messy, impulsive, and may use whatever they can grab at the scene to help them complete the task at hand.

The truth is most killers fall somewhere on the scale between the two extremes. They may even move up and down the scale over time. We can use these changes in the level of organization to indicate the evolving mental state of our villains. They may start out lower on the scale and move up as they hone their skills or become more scattered and careless as they devolve.

Change in organizational level is a great tool for adding tension to the arc of the narrative and creating a complication for our hero to overcome by making it difficult to link the crimes.

Pre and Post Behaviors

Pre and post crime behaviors can tell the BAU a lot about criminals. Organized killers have likely done some surveillance and pre-work before committing their crime. This kind of planning can leave a trail to follow backwards to help in identifying the perpetrator. Behavioral changes after a crime can send up a red flag, narrowing down the suspect field.

With the proliferation of cameras and electronic devices in today’s society it’s hard not to leave a pre-crime trail. In addition to security cameras found in businesses, traffic, doorbell, and home security cams are everywhere. Cellphones can be traced to a degree even if you turn off location services. Is our villain smart enough to avoid these traps? The act of avoidance itself may be a telling pre-crime behavior.

After committing a crime there may be shifts in personality or heightened paranoia noticed by friends, family, or coworkers.

• The killer may be quicker to anger or sheepish and withdrawn.
• They may come up with an excuse to leave town for an extended period while things cool down.

If we want to build a higher functioning villain, they’re going to need to be aware of these behaviors and try to avoid them. Of course, we also need them to slip up so we can solve the crime, but not in a way that is too obvious.

Putting It All Together

Now that we know the five criteria, it’s time to put them to use. If our hero is intelligent, focused, and a student of human nature then it stands to reason that our villain should be as well if they’re going to present any kind of a challenge.

Think about how their personality traits and physical actions fit into the BAU matrix. What traits might the villain be good at hiding and how might they slip up?

For more information on building better villains, check out these WITS posts by Lisa Hall-Wilson and Ellen Buikema.

What’s your best advice for building better villains? Do you have specific criteria that you use? Let us know in the comments!

* * * * *

About Eldred

Eldred Bird writes contemporary fiction, short stories, and personal essays. He has spent a great deal of time exploring the deserts, forests, and deep canyons inside his home state of Arizona. His James McCarthy adventures, Killing Karma, Catching Karma, and Cold Karma, reflect this love of the Grand Canyon State even as his character solves mysteries amidst danger. Eldred explores the boundaries of short fiction in his stories, The Waking Room, Treble in Paradise: A Tale of Sax and Violins, and The Smell of Fear.

When he’s not writing, Eldred spends time cycling, hiking, and juggling (yes, juggling…bowling balls and 21-inch knives). His passion for photography allows him to record his travels. He can be found on Twitter or Facebook, or at his website.

Top Image https://pixabay.com/users/geralt-9301/

By Diana Clark

How Writers Use Research

How we answer the knotty question of “how much research is enough” often says more about us as writers than we might suspect—or even want. I’ve discovered the only easy answer to this common query from friends and colleagues is “it depends,” which is a copout satisfying no one.

That doesn’t make it less true.

Different Styles of Research

I know successful novelists who are perfectly content to use Wikipedia to locate or verify “facts” for their stories. For them, fiction is fiction, and accuracy is far less important than entertaining their readers.

A few of my other colleagues are obsessed with “getting it right” and research deeply, often checking the pages of their manuscripts multiple times for accuracy. Need I say these writers are usually less prolific than their more casual counterparts?

Still others have trouble putting a period to the research phase of writing. There is always one more article or yet-another source to check. Over the years, I’ve noticed that these writers tend to fall into two distinct groups.

Those in the first group simply finds research more fun than writing. I usually tell my friends in this group to “knock themselves out.” They’ll write less but have lots more fun doing it.

The second group is more complex. Most fear making a mistake in print so much they’re always giving a manuscript one more review. We all know a perfectionist or two. Some of us even fall into that category.

A smaller subset of this group might hide behind perfectionism, but they are actually using their research to avoid what they see as the hard work of writing. For them, it isn’t as simple as writer’s block; they see writing as a vast desert and can’t quite imagine the journey to the other side.

What Motivates Most Researchers

Most of us wind up somewhere in between these extremes. We want to do enough research to make our stories authentic, and we strive for accuracy if we are writing about real events even if they took place long ago. Still, it’s the story that intrigues us, and our focus is on getting the story told.

Dangers of Too Much Research

One real drawback to spending too much time researching is a tendency to info-dump. You all know what that is—telling the reader more than they need or even want to know. Just because something is interesting, it doesn’t necessarily follow that it belongs in the story. A good editor, in fact, will make writers take this extraneous material out—no matter how much it hurts.

How I Determine How Much Research to Do

Full disclosure here. I usually do a week or two of general research if it’s a topic I’m familiar with and then develop an outline (with questions I need answers to). This outline will guide my additional, in-depth research.

I must admit those early notes are full of sidebars—interesting snippets that I might or might not work into the story. I do have one firm rule. These add-ons must drive the story forward not sidetrack it.

A rough guide I use in fiction writing is that my research time shouldn’t exceed my writing time. If I expect to produce a first draft in ten weeks, then, I will spend ten weeks or less researching my book and establishing a timeline and character chart. That block of time doesn’t include the simple fact-checking I will do later as part of the review process.

Let me reiterate here that I’m discussing fiction. Nonfiction is an altogether different ballgame. You could legitimately spend months, even years, in research before writing a line.

When to Research

Despite all that research, most of us discover holes in our knowledge at specific points of a story. Some of it is quite specific. What kind of gun, for example, did FBI agents use in 1952? There are two schools of thought on how we writers should handle these kinds of gaps. One approach is to make a line of question marks or group of asterisks to indicate the problem and get on with our story, filling in the gap later.

Others prefer to answer the questions as they occur, particularly when the answer might shape the narrative. This approach makes sense if it occurs infrequently, but too many unanswered questions can slow down anyone’s writing and cause problems with flow. Always ask yourself—is this bit of research creeping perfectionism or plain, old avoidance?

I suspect most of us use both methodologies. Curiosity sometimes has to be satisfied immediately. Still, unless the information is likely to affect the narrative, it’s probably best to go back later and fill in the gap.

“Live” Versus Traditional Research

Whether we’re writing fiction or nonfiction, no writer gets very far in this business before discovering a hiccup that I don’t see discussed often in blogs or articles about research. And that is the simple fact that online and off-site research can only take us so far.

It’s true we can learn a lot about a subject or an area by watching YouTube videos, surfing the web, and spending quality time in a library, but this research will never replace an onsite visit or a live interview. Ignorance may be bliss, but it frequently leads to fuzzy writing.

If a sense of place is central to your story, your research should include time spent in the locale. I know, I know—time and money, those nasty limiters we all face. Still, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve avoided embarrassing errors by putting foot to ground and asking questions of those with first-hand knowledge.

An Example

One of my unpublished stories, “Touchstone,” is a good example of why in-person research matters. It’s about an American artist, a female painter, who spends much of her life capturing images of UNESCO’s historic sites in eastern and southern Spain in the last years of the twentieth century.

I did due diligence—everything from videos and online websites to scholarly sources—but a trip to the sites I focused on in the story helped me avoid several embarrassing errors. Some were relatively small—like the color of the sand along the shore of a site bordering the Mediterranean.

Other errors were more egregious. In one case, the artist wouldn’t have had access to the part of the site she supposedly painted. It was closed for repair during the time she was there—and for nearly a year afterward.

On-site investigation isn’t just about avoiding errors, however. It can also provide tantalizing anecdotes and insights all of us love incorporating into our stories.

I’m not saying you can’t write a good story without visiting where it takes place or interviewing people who observed the events you’re writing about when that’s possible, but I promise you’ll write a better story if you do. It’s that whole write what you know thing. Who came up with that anyway? No, don’t bother to email or call. I know it was Mark Twain.

Choosing Your Research Style

How much to research isn’t the only decision we face as we prepare to write. How we choose to go about that research is equally telling. Every writer conducts his or her research in a specific way.

Some begin the research phase as soon as they have a rough idea about their story. These writers enjoy the process of open-ended research. They like to see where it takes them. This meandering journey often plays a major role in shaping the final story. A writer using this approach will often write and research at the same time—or, to be more accurate since multi-tasking is a myth, intermittently.

“How can I possibly know how the story ends?” one of my Mazatlán writer friends once chided me. “I haven’t finished my research yet.” Her Beta readers (I’m one of them) were reading her fifteenth chapter at the time. That far into the story and no ending in sight!

 My colleague and friend takes pride in telling anyone who’ll listen that she’s never used an outline in over two decades of writing, preferring to “let the story tell itself.” She is one of those exotic (to me) writers who write and research intermittently, wandering toward the final chapter.

Others know exactly how the story will end because they’ve worked through the storyline, developed a firm timeline, and decided on a complete cast of characters. The narrative may change slightly as they complete their research and begin writing, but their stories are already in their heads and hearts.

Different strokes for different folks. I happen to fall into the second category most of the time, but I’ve been known to follow an interesting bit of history down the rabbit hole, whether it is directly relevant or not. There’s always that next story, after all. Maybe, I can use this intriguing tidbit there.

So, how much research is enough?

Only the writer knows. Oh, there might be one other person—that pesky reader who finds an error and gleefully reports it in a scathing and embarrassing review. Happy writing.

About Diana

A late bloomer as a fiction writer, Diana Clark is a much-published former editor and historian who lives and works in Mazatlán, Mexico. It was her love of history, specifically Latin American history, that led to her Points South series, which examines the turbulent 1970s and 1980s in Chile, Argentina, and Central America through novels. Some titles include Stolen, Tapestries, Song of Despair, and, most recently, The Long Game.

She admits to another longtime love, Latin American and Spanish protest music of the 60s and 70s. This interest has taken her to Spain, Portugal, Argentina, Chile, Uruguay, Cuba, and Mexico, where she’s interviewed cantautores (singers/songwriters), whose songs are still performed today.

by Ellen Buikema

Touch is a basic human need. It’s the first sense we develop and our first social interaction at birth.

The Power of Touch.

Imagine walking barefoot through a forest. The softness of moss between your toes, the cool slime of mud, the pokes and scratches of pine needles, sticks, and stones.

Think of the kitchen and the intense heat of the oven. Remember kneading and punching bread dough, making deep indentations in the mixture, releasing stored aggression on the dough. (Good therapy.)

Touch has two different systems, factual (location, movement, and pressure) and emotional. Both types are used in writing.

Sensory Writing Practice:

Close your eyes and pick something up.

• Describe how the object feels.
• What are its features?
  • Does it have crevasses?
  • Is it heavy or light?
  • Wide or narrow?
  • Smooth or rough?
  • Squishy or hard?
  • Solid or springy?
• Write about your experiences with the sensation of touch.

These details will help bring a reader deeper into the story.

Writing Touch in Different Genres

Touch in Horror

Remember playing a game where you put your hand into a box and try to guess what’s inside by touch? Or perhaps experience the Boca de Veritas or Bocca della Verità? If you put your hand in the statue’s mouth and tell a lie, the bocca (mouth) will slam shut and bite it off.

Don't hesitate to include tactile sensations in your writing. Give us the slick, tackiness of blood between the antagonist’s fingers, the weight of the knife, the damp Spanish moss against her exposed skin as she lay on the forest floor. Let us feel her excitement, panic, elation, whatever emotion she is feeling, and draw us deeper into the story.

“She approached the couple and watched them for a moment. They looked pathetic, writhing down there in the sand and fumbling at each other’s clothes like desperate, love-struck teenagers. They disgusted her.
The male sensed her presence and turned to face her. She immediately noticed the fear behind his stubborn glare and it aroused her. Her scar throbbed and pulsated as she withdrew the knife from the sheath and dragged it across his throat. As the blade tore through flesh and sinew she once more heard the retort of the rifle, felt her cheekbone shatter. The blood poured from him just as the blood had spurted from the wound in the deer’s throat.”

― Stacey Dighton, The Hawk and the Raven

Touch in Humor

Slapstick

Slapstick is a visual art, born in ancient Greece and Rome as mime and pantomime, and successfully used on the big screen as in this example, Make ‘Em Laugh from Singing In The Rain.

Slapstick in Prose

“I jammed my key into the door lock and  . . . And it wouldn’t fit. I tried again. No joy. Half-panicked, I ran to each of the others, but every single one of the locks was out of commission. I was going to bust out a window, but checked the car’s ignition through it first. It had been packed with what looked like chewing gum. The Munstermobile had . . . Had been sabotaged. With gum and superglue. It was a trick I’d had Toot and company play on others more than once. And now what I had done to others had been done unto me at the damnedest moment imaginable. ‘Aggggh!’ I screamed. ‘I hate ironic reversal!’”

― Jim Butcher, The Dresden Files: Cold Days

Touch in Romance

Touch is crucial when writing romance. When writing a physical scene in a romance novel, don’t forget that touch is a two-way street. They are both feeling something.

Let your characters feel the goosebumps on each other’s skin, how the palm senses the texture of their hair, the sensation of lips touching. Minor details like the gliding of bedsheets or the touch of the sultry night air are essential to writing a good love scene.

“Love should feel like the first time you gallop a horse flat out. It should make your blood sing. It should terrify you. And some part of you should recognize it the first time you meet the other person’s eyes.” 

— Audrey Coulthurst, Of Fire and Stars

Whether it’s the sting of a skinned knee, the wind tearing your eyes as you fly down a mountain on skis, or butterfly kisses on your cheek, touch provides a deep human need. Tactile sensory information draws your readers into the story.

Resources for further reading:

• 9 surprising facts about the sense of touch
• 209 Words To Describe Touch

How do you approach the tactile elements in your writing? Do you have any examples of writing using the sense of touch you’d like to share?

* * * * *

About Ellen

Author, speaker, and former teacher, Ellen L. Buikema has written non-fiction for parents and a series of chapter books for children with stories encouraging the development of empathy—sprinkling humor wherever possible. Her Works In Progress are, The Hobo Code, YA historical fiction and Crystal Memories, YA fantasy.

Find her at http://ellenbuikema.com or on Amazon.

Image by Daniel Reche from Pixabay