Old Hallows Eve

On Halloween, children and even adults quiver in fear at the thought of ghosts, goblins, monsters, and killer ninjas. It's a night of fright, however irrational, and people love it because of the thrill of adrenaline that accompanies a spooky surprise.

I pose the question, what about real evil? Not the things that go bump in the night, not the little brothers in Freddy masks, but the real, tangible evil that pulses in the hearts of serial killers. They are the real monsters, and they surpass time and culture, simply living everywhere and in every era.

From H.H. Holmes to Albert Fish, Jack the Ripper to Bundy, they are men (though women are among the number) who violently, sadistically and tortuously end the lives of their fellow human beings. They are around 365 days of the year, and many are still unknown to us. Because of their estimated number, is in fact statistically possible that you, yes you, have come into contact or crossed paths with a serial killer once in your life. They may even have looked at you as a potential victim, eventually switching their attention to some unlucky stranger while you go free and unaffected. That doesn't mean you weren't there, and it doesn't mean you weren't in the presence of evil. Not the image, the mirage of dark things presented to us on Old Hallows Eve, but the real, true-blue evil that runs in the blood of those who take life after life with little or no remorse.

This is the world we live in and what we have to contend with. Why do we create evil, an entire day dedicated to evil, when evil is all around us already? This Halloween, instead of switching on a scary movie with some Freddy or Jason villain, try a serial killer documentary. I guarantee you'll sleep with the lights on, and isn't that what today is all about?

Be a Modern Day Abolitionist

The slave trade in the Civil War Era was considered booming. It was a big industry then, with slave traders sailing to Africa and other such countries to steal unsuspecting people from their villages. It is estimated that there were 4,000,000 slaves during this time.

The slave trade in Our Era is considered exponential compared to pre-Civil War times. It's a massive industry now, with international sex slave traders swooping into villages and making false promises to children who want to monetarily support their families. It is estimated that now, in 2010, there are 27,000,000 slaves.

There is some sort of disconnect here. When people of 2010 are reminded of the black slave trade, they're filled with outrage (and rightly so). Now, picture this. Skin color no longer matters. There is no one group of people who need protection. Every child is in danger. It could be your daughter or son, nephew or niece, brother or sister. They could be Cambodian, Asian, Russian, Thai, or from the Bronx.

These children are stripped of their names and given a number. They're put on a menu for men to choose from. They are raped an average of 5 times per night. There is no limit to how young they are.

When we see our little ones, the children we know and love, picturing them in that kind of situation is painful enough. Now imagine it's happened, and you're helpless. They're forced to take hard drugs to keep them from complaining or fighting back. They are horribly abused. If this were the case, if it were more obvious, everyone would be outraged NOW. Last year, I, Kate Thompson, at the age of 19, should not have been hearing about the modern day slave trade for the first time.

If you're interested in doing something big or small (everything helps!), here are a few organizations you can look up:

1. Love146
2. Not For Sale
3. Invisible Children (focus on child soldiers)

Look them up, read the stats, and see how you can help.

Be a modern day abolitionist.

Even death may die - H.P. Lovecraft

"That is not dead which can eternal lie
And with strange aeons even death may die."
- "The Call of Cthulhu", H.P. Lovecraft

For my Writing the Literary Novel class last year, we had to write to one of our peers at the end of the semester. This person had to be the one whose writing we enjoyed the most. My classmate Ryan compared me to a man named Lovecraft, who I'd only heard of in the vaguest of ways. Today I went to Twice Sold Tales (owned by Jim Logan) in downtown Farmington, Maine in search of one of his books. There was only one copy in the entire store, and I snapped it up for $3.50! I read the first few sections while waiting for my fiance to get out of a meeting, and I loved it. I can't believe it took me 20 years to discover Howard Philip Lovecraft!

His life was sadly short, but full of meaningful friendships, though some only flowered through the writing of letters (it is said that he penned 100,000 letters in his 46 year life). Both parent's died of insanity (or at least in insane asylums after surgeries) and he lived a lonely life swathed in dreary and chilling stories. He was a visionary, and someone I intend to look up to from now on. More on him later! Time for dinner!

Change of Plan, NaNoWriMo, and George Eliot

Wednesday is the busiest day of my week. I'm up at 7:30AM, out of the house by 8:45AM and don't return until after 4 in the afternoon. Yet, now at 4:16PM on a Wednesday, I feel the need to blog my little heart out. Perhaps it's guilt at having neglected "Abyssopelagic" in the past, but more likely I want to satisfy my vanity by imagining someone actually reads these posts. This blog began as a chronicle of my character, Daniel, as he navigated the murder of his sister, and joined in the investigation to catch her killer. Through out the process of discovering Dan, I discovered a personal fascination with crime, criminals and criminal psychology that I didn't know I had, hence the change in the purpose of this forum. Now, I'm working on the idea that by investigating and blogging on various crimes, I'll learn more about what crime really is and how criminals really think, as well as how I feel about each case. Maybe this idea will completely ruin this blog, but I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who reads it anyway.

On another note, I've entered the NaNoWriMo contest. November is apparently National Novel Writing Month, and the challenge is to write 50,000 words (12,500 words/week --- 6 days a week = 2,083 words/day) from November 1 through November 30, 2010 (though it does commence every year). Because I've reached approximately 70,000 words in my novel thus far, I've decided to aim to ADD 50,000 words. Hopefully, this challenge keeps me motivated!

Since reading Middlemarch, by George Eliot (pseudonym for Mary Ann Evans), for my English Novel class, I've decided that I absolutely LOVE her style. In fact, I can't recall ever reading anything so fantastic. I went into it with a bad attitude because I hated Silas Marner with a fiery passion. Middlemarch left Silas in the dust. Now I have this crazy idea about abandoning Daniel for a more "Dorothea" kind of character... can't really make Daniel a "later born Theresa"...

Aileen Wuornos: Her Story and My Thoughts

There are a lot of things I don't understand in this world, including the government and Teletubbies, but nothing stumps me quite like the mistreatment of the mentally ill, and the abuse and neglect of children. As human beings, we're programmed to survive and protect ourselves at all costs. The fight or flight response is a fine tuned machine that spans over our entire species. What happens when the person wielding this machine was sexually, physically and mentally abused as a child? The effect that can have on a person is evident in the case of Aileen Wournos. This picture is of a devastatingly charming little girl. Honestly, she's beautiful.

In forty-eight years this child will have been put to death as a serial killer, with the blood of seven men on her hands. It doesn't seem possible for such a metamorphosis to occur, that a face like this could be changed by a hard life of drugs, drinking, smoking and highway prostitution. Aileen was a very sick woman, and her innocence didn't last long past the taking of this picture. She became known as a "cigarette pig" at the age of eleven, because she would have sex with local boys in exchange for cigarettes. She was abandoned by her mother, sexually abused by her grandfather, had incestuous relations with her brother, Keith, and eventually ended up a withered woman on the end of her tether. Her life is a story of being used, but she didn't start killing until she fell in love with Tyria Brookes. Her obsession with Ty overshadowed everything else. Ms. Brookes wasn't frightened away by Aileen's famous and well documented rages. They were together for four years.

It seems like the triggers for Aileen's highway killings were moments of insecurity in her relationship with Tyria. Wournos felt that in order to keep the woman she loved, she had to be able to provide some big money to keep them comfortable. At this point, the cute little girl above had changed into an overweight alcoholic and any remnant of her good looks were completely gone. Men stopped to pick her up for sex less frequently than ever before, and she was desperate. So when Richard Mallory stopped to pick her up (presumably as a hitch-hiker, but we'll never know for sure) Aileen began her immediate rationalizations. Soon, she'd convinced herself that 51 year old Mallory was going to rape her. Later that same night, her first victim was dead (1989), and the year long spree had begun.


Aileen is the perfect example of what I don't understand in this world. Used and abused from a very young age, is it any surprise that she became violent in her later life? In her last interview and final words, it's obvious that she was not in her right mind. The question is, was she ever? Did she deserve to die by lethal injection, or was her place in a mental institution, where her paranoia and rage could be treated, or at least handled? Towards the end, it didn't matter. Aileen stopped protesting her death penalty sentence. She was unstable enough to become a serial killer, but not unstable enough to warrant help. Her last words, while strapped down and waiting for the lethal injection to be administered, where the following:

"I'd just like to say I'm sailing with the rock, and I'll be back like Independence Day, with Jesus June 6. Like the movie, big mother ship and all, I'll be back."

Aileen Wuornos (February 29 1956 - October 9, 2002)

NOTE: I am not in any way suggesting that Aileen Wuornos was innocent. The evidence proved to 12 people beyond a reasonable doubt that she was a murderer. I simply wanted to share Aileen's sad story and get a few thoughts out there. As someone who struggles with a mental illness, cases like these really hit home. Chronic depression is no paranoid schizophrenia and I'm no Aileen Wuornos, but just think about how many times this has happened over the years... Who decides when someone needs treatment, and when someone needs to die?

A Daily Page Goal

I've decided to try something that I've left by the wayside for about five years now (if time went any faster I think it would cease to exist altogether). A Daily Page Goal towards the completion of my manuscript. Seems silly that I have to tell myself to do that, but planning a wedding and taking a full course load leaves me want for time. A page goal is exactly what Daniel needs to get across the finish line. I was going to go with ten pages a day single spaced, but rushing through the end of the project is NOT the point of a page goal. Rather, the point of the goal is to get you pumped!!! So, I'm thinking five pages, single spaced, with at least an hour set aside to do it per day. Being familiar with the monster that is inspiration, I don't expect to always succeed. Writing five passable-first-draft-pages and writing five-completely-forced-pages are on the opposite sides of the spectrum.

Patch and Stuff.

For anyone in the world who actually reads this blog (God bless you for the effort) I've mentioned my dog a few times. This picture is of Patch's first summer, and he's bigger now, but less than 20lbs. I owe a lot to him, to his unconditional love for me. Sure, he has stanky breath and barks too much, but he's my best friend, the best friend a writer could ever have.

But now on to crime things.

What makes a person murder? Gives them their MO and takes them into the dark place that leads to the spilling of blood? Some say brain chemicals, other say an abusive upbringing, and still others assert that it has to do with plain, untainted evil. The truth is, we're all capable of murder. It's inside all of us. The killers and serial murderers simply have a hard time controlling themselves. Ted Bundy had a normal upbringing. He had loving parents, went to college and graduated, and then started killing people. In his last interview before his execution, he told Dr. James Dobson that violent, sadistic pornography was the reason for his sick lusts. He was not raised to be a killer. Albert Fish preceded Bundy by decades. He practiced cannibalism and even sent letters to his victim's families, telling them how their loved ones suffered before they died. He could be explained as pure evil. His nature, his entire life, tainted by darkness through and through. We just don't know why people do what they do.

I can write as many manuscripts on crime that I want, but it's only my interpretation and could b e far from the truth. The truth is beyond me, but I'm searching for it. Why do people hurt their fellow man? How can one person so viciously and torturously take the life of another human being?

Off to discover.

Kate

Freelance and the Blood Countess...

The Holy Roman Empire, Transylvania

Along with my Psychology major fiance, I've been reading a book on female serial killers. This picture is of Elizabeth Bathory, and she is the only one of her kind. All known female serial killers since Elizabeth were influenced and led by an alpha male. That was not the Countess's experience. She began her bloody campaign while her husband was actually away fighting the Turks- he had done nothing to encourage her sadistic desires.

In the late 1500s and early 1600s it is believed that she tortured and killed over 600 servant girls and young women. Her methods were brutal, and a lot of the truth is worse than the legend. She was arrested in 1610 at the age of fifty, and was entombed alive with only a small window through which she received food. Only her noble blood kept her from immediate execution. She survived four years before supposedly being found dead on the floor of her chamber, still looking as cruelly beautiful as ever.

They called her a vampire because when she was finished murdering a victim, she was often sopping with the girl's blood. The peasants who lived beneath her castle were terrified and the population was dwindling- almost all of the eligible girls had gone to work for Elizabeth, and had never came home. Pretty grisly, huh? When we were reading about her I couldn't help but think of a fiction story I could write. Maybe Elizabeth was a vampire. Maybe she didn't die on the floor of her tomb. Maybe she's alive today...

On to freelance. I've fiddled around with the idea for two years now and have finally decided to give it a try. My resume is built, my web page is http://www.google.com/profiles/katethompsonportfolio and I'm shaking in my boots. When you first go to college, you don't think about life after the fact. Everything is new an exciting and the real world can wait. That novelty wears off around junior year, which is where I am now. Now, I have to pay attention to the real world, because by next summer I need to know how I'm going to make enough money to feet my dog when I'm done with my BFA. Next year, I need to find me a grad school. I'm confident that I can write about almost any subject (except any form of math whatsoever) as long as I'm given a directive and research topics. All I need are professionals and private parties who are interested in what I have to offer. Hmm... where are you?

And because this blog is supposed to be about Daniel Bellamy, I'm going to put some new information in here about him, too. The pieces are starting to come together. Suddenly, there's hope for Daniel in his quest to catch the person responsible for his sister's murder. Before he gets the information he needs, he receives a phone call. There's been another double homicide. They hadn't been quick enough. When I last left Daniel, he was on his way to the scene of the crime. This one will be grislier than the first.

Kate.

No, really, I AM Batman.

Well, I've been MIA and have no excuse for it. Schools back up and running full force but it's been enjoyable for the most part (except for ART- I like to draw as much as the next person, but who says, "I want you to capture the emotion of your model" in reference to a messenger bag?). My English Novel class is so good I actually look forward to it... which might be slightly twisted, but that's a-o-k with me. For one of my classes I get to just sit and write. Yeah, I said it. It's the best class ever invented. EVER.

I got engaged at the end of the summer and have been planning a wedding (245 days to go) and yes, Daniel's story has been progressing. I'm around 225 and have enough material and thoughts to hopefully get me another hundred pages. Afterward, it's copy editing time! I have more news about Dan, but breakfast and class calls my name. I'll have to get back to you on that.