Fatal Attraction
Why do we read stories about danger, death, and destruction? Why must we need to know the gory details in a horrific plot? Why does a violent psychopath make us turn away, only to peek back at the screen moments later?
Some say it’s a fatal attraction to those things that haunt us.
Unless you are reading cozy fiction, danger and conflict abounds in the stories we read. Whether it is dangerous mission into the depths of secret underground base, an evil vendetta by the sole survivor of an unfortunate accident, or a romance with the slightly crazed love-obsessed individual—they all have one thing in common.
They excite us, and make us want to read more.
I needed inspiration for this article (and topic), so I stopped my wife in the hallway to ask her why she enjoyed true crime podcasts so much. After several moments of broody musing, she couldn’t come up with an answer. My question, as simple as it was, had stumped her. She could not deny she liked listening to them (nearly every day), but she could not tell me why. They are full of terrifying stories of young women (and men) who had become victims of an evil individual’s doing.
Of course I came up with my own reasons, (like maybe she was secretly plotting my own death), but ultimately when it came to it, I couldn’t provide a solid reason either. Without spending hours of research into the human mind, I had to conclude that we are simply drawn to the possibilities of those things that haunt us. A proclivity to fear, or the unknown motives of evil. Or maybe it’s even a desire to glimpse into the darker parts of the psyche that exists within all of us.
Guys, we are no different. We might not as into crime podcasts as our wives, but we certainly have the same draw to feel the ominous tendrils of danger reaching out for us. For me, it usually manifests itself into a daydream, and the formula is almost always the same: I am thrust into a dangerous situation (fear), with no hope of escape (the impossible), and I overcome the odds and defeat the enemy (underdog & hero complex). We all have them, (Don’t even try to deny it, fellas) those danger-filled fantasies that make our hearts pound just a tiny bit faster.
One daydream I have on a regular basis is where I am kidnapped and imprisoned by some Cuban drug lords who spotted me watching them unload their cargo from a boat. At first they want to kill me, and with a twitchy finger on the trigger, pointed a gun to my head. After a heated argument in Spanish, one of the men convinces the others to drop me on a deserted island in the Caribbean in order to save time from hiding a body.
After a lengthy boat ride, they push me out into the water at night near an island where sharks circle me as I paddle to shore. I make it to the beach unharmed, but then begin my journey of survival for the next several months.
It’s not until a fisherman spots me in my near-death state and rescues me from my sandy grave. He brings me back to port, where I slowly recover. I tell no one of my return to civilization, and then spend weeks plotting my revenge on my captors, eventually bringing them to justice.
You might be saying, sure, your daydream turns out good, but crime podcasts go unsolved for the most part. I agree, and while I don’t have a direct answer to that, I would guess (with few exceptions, perhaps) that crime hounds go into the story with the hope there will be a good ending. That somehow, the story will resolve itself later. That justice will be served. That evil will not get away with it.
If that isn’t the case, then perhaps we have a deeper problem. I, for one, believe in the power of a good story that can captivate one’s emotions through fear, because in that fear there is a healthy learning moment that can help all of us to avoid certain situations, or allow us to grapple with how we would respond if we were needed.
Now, I do not mean we should be searching out the gross, most terrifying stories we can find to learn from them, but if an author is able to casually “sprinkle” in those elements to make a good story, then they may have achieved a higher purpose in their writing.
Killing a Character
In my books, there are several characters that become victims in an evil plot, and their untimely deaths have purpose, because it causes another character (or several) to grow from it. Their deaths serve others with emotional and spiritual aspects to create deeper, more lasting relationships among those still living, while providing a level of learning that couldn’t have been accomplished without it.
Not all authors kill off characters, but perhaps portray different type of conflicts—trauma, or abuse, that could make the reader feel a similar way. Their character’s resolution may come in the form of a personal triumph—a conquest to overcome emotional or physical pain. Or, perhaps they find victory as they take their final breath, in the last moments of finding peace with their conflict.
As I write these words, I have to admit I have no conclusion for this article. It is a topic (to me) that may require additional study and thought, or perhaps a visit to a professional that may know more than I do on the subject. It is an intriguing mystery, to say the least, and I am eager to discover more. Perhaps it will allow me to become a better writer, or understand my wife’s true crime binging sessions.
I would love to hear your thoughts! Are you a crime junky? Do you find yourself getting excited over dangerous situations? Let me know!
