Daniel's been going through some rough times over the last few days. Poor devil. A female serial killer with a good batting swing can do a lot of damage, even to a trained killer, especially if he's haunted by his sister's untimely murder.I've been worried since yesterday, thinking about all of the things in my novel that people in my church, my family, and my group of friends wouldn't necessarily be crazy about. It's a story about raw human emotions, the barest form of pain and angst that comes with loss and failure.
I've kept F&%$ out completely. That's a word for shock factor, and I'm hoping the manuscript has enough of that on it's own. Also, "Shit" is out, too. I just don't like the idea of that coming out of Dan or Samuel's mouth. They're hardened investigators, but they aren't sailors. The words they do say are "hell" "damn" and "bastard". But tell me, if you're little sister and her husband had just been murdered, would you have pleasant words to describe the killer at large? Realistically, no. In fact, if anyone touched my little brother I'd have a lot more than words for them. Shank to the ribs, that's all I can say.
And, for when my brother Matt decides that reading is an A-OK idea, and Benjamin learns to read in the first place, I dont want them to have to read something I'm not proud of. So, on that note, there are also no sex scenes in my untitled manuscript. I think they are, on principle, completely and utterly uneccesary to the heart of the story. Sure, maybe there will be insinuations and allusions, but no sex, no way. I'm not a prude. I just want my work to stand on its own two feet without any sort of literary cop out.
If I remove the parts of my novel that make it true to life- the life of a non-Christian cop searching for answers, then I wouldn't be being true to the story I'm writing. I can't do that. I can't betray what I've found, or what's found me. I hope the people in my life can handle that.
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