A Muse In My Pocket

Okay! I'm ready to go back to school now.

The holidays were nice and it's been a wonderful break, but I can't do nothing for very long.

I have been writing a bit here and there, doing some editing and learning new things. Last semester I made a couple of friends that are enrolled in the same program. We take classes together, study together and work on research together. We have a lot in common outside of school though which is why I believe it works so well.

One of the women that I go to class with is also a freelance editor and she has agreed to take a look at my MS. She said she's actually excited to do so. This in turn gets me excited about my MS all over again and motivates me to finish. We haven't talked about fees yet, but I'm sure we can make it work to benefit the both of us.

I've discovered that I will probably be writing crime novels and true crime in the future. It is what I have always read and enjoyed reading. I love to read other genres too, but this is where my passion lies.
I wanted to know how a serial killers mind worked. I wanted to know what they were thinking and feeling when they committed these acts. I wanted to know why they were doing it. What happened? Is it genetic, environment, both? What makes these people tick? I wanted to sit and talk with them. It fascinated me.

I began this obsession when I was very young. My mother thought that I was a satan worshiper for a while. No joke. She did. She was very concerned about my choice in reading material and assumed the worst. It created more tension than there already was but it didn't stop me from reading it.
I took a break from reading about crime, law and the system for a few years. I was obsessed and thought that that meant something was wrong with me. I didn't know why I could get lost in such things and neither did others. people would ask me, "How can read about stuff like that all the time?" "Doesn't it upset you that people could be so animalistic and brutal?" Or they would say things like, "No wonder you're so paranoid about letting your children play at the park, because all you do is fill your mind with all that serial killer stuff."

Comments like that took it's toll on me after a while and I began to think something was wrong with me. Why was I reading shit like this? I couldn't come up with an answer for myself so I stopped. I began to read more positive books and with that it drew different types of people to me. I found other interests but not ones that made me feel alive. I did find a more positive outlook on life though. It changed the way I think. it changed my perception and how I looked at things and processed them.

I didn't just read true crime. I liked to read about the court proceedings and would question why the system does what it does. I was more obsessed with how the criminals were handled than I was with what they did. But don't get me wrong, I get lost reading about that stuff too.

I wanted to do something about it all but I didn't know what. I know that sounds strange but when I read about crime and the whole process that takes place in catching and punishing these people, my adrenaline just goes. I can't get enough of it. It's all i watch, it's mostly what I read and I love going to the court houses and listening in on cases going on.