Confessions of a Crime Blogger
I have been writing about crime for years, but never have I had a larger or more immediate audience. Recently I have found myself in a couple of situations where I have been introduced as a “Crime Blogger” and treated as an expert on murder. Of course my ego loves it, but my experience has taught me that anyone is an expert if they know a little more than you do about something. But then murder is my hobby and I love to be able to talk with people about it.
This is my real confession; I like to talk about murder. This makes a lot of people uncomfortable and rightfully so. Over the years I have learned to keep quiet and not let everyone know who got killed in the building we are passing and when. But I still want to and I am glad to have the opportunity.
Anyone who writes about crime knows the discrimination it can engender. Some people think that crime is not a serious subject and not worthy of a “true” writer. These people don’t bother me. They remind me of a woman who attended one of my poetry readings in the early 90s. I asked for questions from the audience and she rose, saying, “Are those real poems, or did you just make those up?” I just make all of my stuff up, sometimes after careful research and I do not claim to be a “true” writer.
The others are the ones that get to me. These are the ones who say, “Why do you want to concentrate on such horrible things?” This gets to me, because I am a positive person and I believe in concentrating on the positive in any given situation. I know that we attract the things we think about into our lives and I want to attract love and happiness into my life, not violence and death.
Yet the violence and death is compelling. I am compelled to witness the darkest things that the human soul has to offer. I believe that these horrible things grow in the dark and when no one is looking. A wise man once said, “He who has eyes, let him see.” I have eyes. I have a voice. As long as I am here someone will be looking and witnessing and telling anyone who wants to read.
This is my real confession; I like to talk about murder. This makes a lot of people uncomfortable and rightfully so. Over the years I have learned to keep quiet and not let everyone know who got killed in the building we are passing and when. But I still want to and I am glad to have the opportunity.
Anyone who writes about crime knows the discrimination it can engender. Some people think that crime is not a serious subject and not worthy of a “true” writer. These people don’t bother me. They remind me of a woman who attended one of my poetry readings in the early 90s. I asked for questions from the audience and she rose, saying, “Are those real poems, or did you just make those up?” I just make all of my stuff up, sometimes after careful research and I do not claim to be a “true” writer.
The others are the ones that get to me. These are the ones who say, “Why do you want to concentrate on such horrible things?” This gets to me, because I am a positive person and I believe in concentrating on the positive in any given situation. I know that we attract the things we think about into our lives and I want to attract love and happiness into my life, not violence and death.
Yet the violence and death is compelling. I am compelled to witness the darkest things that the human soul has to offer. I believe that these horrible things grow in the dark and when no one is looking. A wise man once said, “He who has eyes, let him see.” I have eyes. I have a voice. As long as I am here someone will be looking and witnessing and telling anyone who wants to read.
posted by jd chandler at 8:33 PM
1 Comments:
JD,love your site. Keep writing about those "horrible" things in that classy way of yours.
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