Be Afraid

By Andrew E. Kaufman, author of psychological thrillers

Being a writer is like climbing the tallest peak in the world. We barely get to enjoy the victory, when someone straps us down, tears our shirts open, and tells the vultures to bring it on.

Let’s face it: to be an artist is to be vulnerable. And perhaps a little unstable. We pour our souls onto the pages. We sweat. We cry. We scream a lot. We drink ridiculous quantities of coffee, but never enough to combat our emotional and physical exhaustion.

Not to mention, the brutal criticism, and really, there is no way to combat that. We read it, we cringe,

and we may (possibly) throw some things (at least, I hear). After that, we pick ourselves up and dust ourselves off, taking what we can use, and throwing away the rest…that is, between the hysterical sobs, and guttural groans (also, of course, not a first hand experience).

Other sides of our artistry are a bit less brutal and far more enjoyable. If we do it right, we get to create worlds and characters from nothing other than our hungry imaginations, then watch them flourish into amazing stories. Also if we do it right, we relish in the knowledge that our readers are enjoying them, and more importantly, feeling them.

Of course, getting to that point is easier said than done.

In reaching that goal, my approach can be at times… a bit unconventional. Possibly insane. For me, writing a novel means feeling my way through the darkness and through my pages, essentially with no idea what the outcome will be. I don’t plan before I launch into my work. I write on instinct. As I do this, one persistent and nagging question pokes at me: Will this work?

The truth is, I never really know, and therein lies the insanity, because it’s usually not until the end stages that I realize I’ve actually got a cohesive story, and even more, one that people may actually enjoy. Even then, it’s not until my precious child leaves the mental womb-vacuum and takes in its first gasp of air that I start believing. And once again, living.

That’s where the joy begins. And the pain. And then more questions. When the book is “live,” I am overwhelmed because there is so much to take in. I watch my sales, watch my reviews. I question and re-question, examine and reexamine. I again assess whether my work is worthwhile, whether it did or did not, in fact, work. Even then, it’s all still a guessing game. There will never be finite answers to my many questions, and that’s part of this game.

Some might call my approach to novel writing somewhat random, somewhat reckless, and yes, somewhat unzipped, and I’d have a hard time disagreeing. But here’s the thing: I understand it, and even more, I know what drives it.

Fear.

Is fear a bad thing? Well, no. It’s what keeps me from touching a hot stove (at least, on purpose), from speeding down the freeway at 100 mph (give or take), and from making inappropriate comments (well, most of the time).

And fear is what keeps me from settling for Just Good Enough. It keeps me on my toes. Without fear, my work would be a shining example of Just Average. And that’s something I can’t tolerate.

So I strive for balance, because balance means allowing my fear to work for instead of against me. That’s the real challenge. Turning fear into a driving force that propels me to do my best, to be creative as I can, and to push myself outside the comfort zone. I am then mobilized instead of paralyzed.

Whether we like it or not , fear is necessary in art and in life. Perhaps Father Everett said it best in the movie Daredevel:

“A man without fear is a man without hope.”

And there you have it. When all is done, I know the truth—that I’m not afraid to be afraid.

Andrew E. Kaufman's new and bestselling novel, Darkness & Shadows, has been touted as "A story about damage and survival, about the past and the future, and about facing the truth behind the pain."

Freakin' Fear

By Peg Brantley
Evocative Characters. Intriguing Crime. Compelling Stories.



This is the time of year when fear can be fun.

The other day I was with two women on our way to a luncheon to  benefit the CU Depression Center. They were talking about how they loved to decorate for Halloween and design fanciful costumes to wear. When I mentioned that I would like to see A Cabin in the Woods because I hear it turns the whole horror movie genre upside down, they both insisted they didn't like scary movies and then went on to talk about scary movies they had enjoyed. They laughed when they figured out the truth.

Sometimes scary is satisfying, in a weird and unusual and creepy kind of way.

When it's not fun is when there's a forever-reality piece to the scary thing. Whether it's true crime, as we read in posts here earlier from L.J. Sellers and Sheila Lowe, or a life and death situation.

Independence, Colorado is over 10,900 feet in elevation. 

Last week my husband and I were in Aspen and went to a couple of ghost towns. The second one was near the top of Independence Pass (the Continental Divide). The town of Independence, Colorado got its name because gold was discovered there on July 4th. In its heyday there were about fifteen hundred people
living there, then the mine began to produce less and less gold. At the end there was a fraction still trying to eke out a living when the worst winter the area had seen in years left them with dwindling food supplies and no way for horses to pack anything into their remote location. The townspeople ended up taking apart their log homes and making seventy-eight pairs of skis to hike out. I have no idea how many people made it back to Aspen. Real life life and death. Not a good scare.

Another way scary doesn't work real well for me is when I must research something about which I need to know, and yet I don't want to become immersed in the muck of the research.

For example, there are a lot of religions in the world, and some of them are threatening. For The Sacrifice I needed to research Santeria and Santa Muerte to determine which would work best for my plot. I chose Santeria because it routinely involves animal sacrifice, and within the Mexican drug cartels, it has involved human sacrifice. A really good way to up the stakes, wouldn't you say?

I had to research Santeria, get a feel for it, even buy a book about it, to get my story right. I confess to skimming for detail while ignoring the instructional elements. I simply couldn't get comfortable and didn't want this part of my life (my writing part) to shadow the rest of my life because of new information, even if it was true. The scariest thing for me was that websites for cults look just like websites for the local chambers of commerce or colleges. Normal. Routine. Ready for someone who is searching for answers.

I had the opportunity in The Sacrifice to use the words in a prayer/chant. It was short. It would have worked. I couldn't do it.

The Sacrifice will be released next Tuesday, October 22nd, and part of its dedication is to the University of Colorado Depression Center. I hope you pick up a copy and receive a few hours of enjoyment… and a just a little fear.

The Fear Factor

Posted by L.J. Sellers, who used to think she was fearless

In my personal life I try to be optimistic, but in my fiction I write about my fears. It’s been true since I sat down to write my first novel. At the time, Jeffrey Dahmer was in the news and my greatest fear was that a sexual predator would kidnap and kill one of my three young boys. So I wrote a story about a woman who tracks down her son’s killer. The experience was cathartic, and I continued the practice in future novels, because as it turns out, many readers share the same fears.

Being kidnapped and held against my will is another dominant fear for me and millions of other women as well—because it happens!—so the theme occurs often in crime fiction novels, including two of mine (The Baby Thief, Secrets to Die For).

Most of my stories though have elements of fears that are very personal to me. For example, when I wrote The Sex Club, the first book in the Detective Jackson series, my son was in Iraq and I worried constantly that he would die. My sister had just succumbed to cancer and I grieved for her and worried for other members of my family. So Kera, my main female protagonist, was dealing with those elements. Right or wrong, I couldn’t separate those emotions from my writing and they ended up on the page.

Soon after that, my husband was diagnosed with retroperitoneal fibrosis, which triggered all kinds of fears for me. He faced a life of pain, multiple surgeries, and likely an early death. Without being consciously aware that I was doing it at first, my Jackson character started having pain and health issues. Eventually, he was diagnosed with RF, and in Thrilled to Death, he underwent a surgery, very similar to the one my husband experienced. Readers tell me they enjoy my characters, who are realistic, yet unique, so incorporating true-to-life, frightening details adds richness to my stories while helping me work through emotional challenges.

In late 2009 when I was writing Passions of the Dead, I was dealing with unemployment: mine, my husband’s, my brother’s, and dozens of other people I knew. I witnessed the devastating effect it can have on families. That fearful theme became dominant when I outlined the story. My Jackson novels of course are always about crime, murder in particular, and my main goal is tell a great story. But every fictitious crime needs a unique, complex, and compelling motive, and I look for those motives in the fear I’m experiencing.

Some of my fears are more social and universal. I fear that as a society we have wrongfully imprisoned hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent people. Dozens of news stories about the release of prisoners wrongfully convicted continue to feed this fear, so that issue, which is often the result of coercion or intimidation, is part of the plot in Dying for Justice, the fifth Detective Jackson novel.

Right now I fear for the future of our country if the economy doesn’t improve. I also fear for our comfort and safety if the extreme weather patterns continue and grow worse. So I’m writing a futuristic thriller in which those fears come into play. Guilt and redemption are also prominent themes in The Arranger, which will release in early September. (If you're a book reviewer and would like a copy, please email me.)

Soon I’ll start work on the next Jackson book. I have a list of ideas, many culled from true crime cases found in the news. Regardless of what I decide in the beginning though, you can bet that as the plot develops, whatever fear is most prevalent on my mind will surface in the story.

What fears do you like to read about in fiction? Which fears are too intense for reading pleasure?