Violent, bizarre, and repulsive writing is not a sign of ill health

As Chaz at Dustbury points out, if sick and twisted plots were a sign of homicidal mania, we should definitely watch out for Stephen King and Dean Koontz. The idea that a creative writing teacher should be able to recognize psychosis by counting the number of bodies in a short story or determining how much blood or how many vengeful scenarios are needed to form a critical mass is frankly piffle.

My friend Candy has taught creative writing for a number of years now, and her article on what does and doesn't scare her should be required reading. Here's her description of a student who didn't set off her alarms:

He always wore a long black trenchoat, had a shaved head, tattoos, and big chunky silver rings on every finger, ornamented with things like spiders and skulls and daggers. 2 years after the Columbine school shooting, he was in my fiction writing class and wrote a long story called "Harris and Klebold Have Nothing on Me." Harris and Klebold were the Columbine shooters. The story was extremely detailed and graphic and bloody and terrifying. The "narrator" told about shooting and stabbing students at his high school and then taking great pleasure in moving their bodies around by inserting his hand into each mouth and dragging them by their teeth. This guy maybe should have scared me. But he didn't. Because he had a personality. A great sense of humor in class. Hobbies. Family he was close to. He was human and fully present. Part of his curiosity about writing was in the exploration of the perpectives of the despicable. Which is really no different than most people who are speculating about what the bloody hell was swirling around in the despised head of the V. Tech murderer.

Now go and read about the ones who really creeped her out. Because she's right: it's the nothingness in a writer, not the somethingness, that blows all the whistles and keeps us awake in the night. And "Richard McBeef" exudes nothingness.

Comments

[Carin AKA Crazy Dude 96]

Yes, I would think it was his writing combined with his classroom persona that would be the concern. I could only stand to read two pages of this "play"- and it's seems so childish (versus creepy.)

[gail]

I'm going to look a lot more closely at his writing, as repulsive as it is, but I think there are clues there that have nothing to do with the level of violence portrayed.

[prairie biker]

The writing is pure dreck. It's not even on par with most middle-schoolers. Maybe there are clues in it. I don't know. It's emotionless but I can't tell if that's because he was just such a lousy writer or if he's conveying part of his personality or both. It lacks any kind of action-reaction flow.

[gail]

I think there are clues that he was a solipsistic/narcissistic thinker and the emptiness of his expression reflects a complete immersion in self, with no extrinsic relationships and no intrinsic controls or restraints.

[Carin AKA Crazy Dude 96]

So, as a writer, does this reveal itself in that the writer cannot discern that his writing is so empty? Because he has filled in all the details in his mind. That for him, it is "there" in the writing, not realizing how empty it comes across?

The inability to go outside oneself, and perhaps have empathy, also transitions to an inability to go outside oneself as a writer and see where your material is lacking?

[gail]

That's definitely one element of it Carin. He can't "see himself as others see him" and he can't read himself from outside himself either.

[Carin AKA Crazy Dude 96]

It's interesting, because his characters are as flat as he must have appeared to those around him.

[gail]

Yes, but there's some interesting stuff going on there. I'm working on a post about it.

[Pixie]

I can't wait to see what you have to say Gail. When I read it I kept seeing "balloons" - as though it was dialog between characters in a comic book... I had to fill in all the blanks with imaginary pictures.

OMG... does this mean I understood him? Please say it ain't so.