Amy told me about a group of rich kids who were arrested for being violent rioters. I thought she said writers.
Rioters are old hat these days. I’m more interested in hearing about violent writers.
Questions on my mind right now:
- What techniques do violent writers use?
- Are there wardrobe requirements?
- In what environment is one best suited for violent writing?
- What are the sleeping habits of violent writers?
- In what ways are the writings of violent writers superior to passive writers?
To answer these questions, we solicited responses from several best-selling authors/violent writers, but because of their criminal activities, they’ve asked to have their identities obscured.
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Best-Selling Mystery Writer
Some writers say they do research, but I live research, meaning I commit at least one murder for every murder-mystery I write. To do less would compromise the authenticity of my work. I am punctilious to a fault. I leave no stone unturned. No head un-bashed in if it helps the plot and, you know, sells more.
Best-Selling Science Fiction Writer
The type of clothing I need isn’t available in stores or online. It isn’t even available from earth-sourced thread and cloth. It’s in space. Have you seen Captain Marvel? That’s entirely accurate in its depictions of space-earth battles. Where it goes wrong is where it portrays the Kree fanatic Ronan’s intention to come back to retrieve Danvers. He’s too embarrassed to say, so I’ll say for him: he actually wanted her suit. Changing colors, bad-ass Christmas star, matching boots—who wouldn’t want to wear this bitchin’ suit and take over civilization after civilization? Okay, now that I’ve expressed that, I feel safe telling you: this is Ronan. Surprise! I’m writing my memoirs and totally including the bit about stealing Danvers’ suit after destroying her. Yeah, that totally happened, and it’s injecting so much passion and space-realism into my writing. I totally recommend killing a superhero and stealing her suit and writing about it.
Best-Selling Political Thriller Writer
Honestly, I prefer a swamp, late at night or early in the morning, a pistol in my hand, dew on the barrel, held against the head of my rival, who’s down on his knees, the swampy water already soaked through his trousers. Even if I change my mind, he’s going to have to buy new pants. I’ve only pulled the trigger once, and that was on a rival writer who was also running for office. It seemed to me an implausible, monopolistic way of pursuing a living: trying to do the thing you write about, so I killed him, but I didn’t like the police attention it brought. It’s hard to write when detectives are banging on your door at 3a.m. So I mostly let my kidnap victims go, never letting them see my face, of course, and then I slog through the swamp, switching out my pistol for my note pad. You’ve got to transfer the fear-soaked pleas from your muse while they’re still dripping.
Best-Selling Legal Thriller Writer
I don’t sleep at night; I sleep in the courtroom. I’m always trolling for new ideas, see, so I pretty much have to live in the courtroom. But most of the time it’s about as exciting as the varnish on the judge’s gavel, so I nap. If something interesting happens, I take out my spare gavel—you’d be surprised how often impersonating a judge can come in handy. Justice to go! Justice in the park! Justice at the shooting range!—and rap the defendant on the head. One good, hard stroke is enough to send the courtroom into a melee. Now I’ve got something to write about.
Best-Selling Literary Writer
Upon occasion when I deign to absorb and ruminate over the abject musings of the uninitiated, I sense their shortcomings are multifarious, multiplicitous, and always lacking for the aplomb feeling that makes one delight in the delicacies of a well-crafted phrase. The inactive, slothful sentences they produce hang flaccid from dead branches. It takes energized, murderous veritas of the cultured, psychological fortitude of individual expression imbued with high crime pedigree and curated wonder, for words to transform. In that sense, superiority of the literary effort is assured.
* * *
Okay. What the fuck? on that last one. Writers are weird fucks.
But they are engaged.
Gavel in hand.