I’m so delighted to host the wonderful author Chrinda Jones as part of the blog tour for ‘Darkness Knows Me’.
Heres what she had to say:
The Short and the Long of It
Okay, here’s the short of it: I began writing the crime novel Darkness Knows Me four years ago when a string of bad crime/mystery novels darkened my eyeballs and forced me, however misguided at the time, to say I could write something better. (By the way, I saved the last of that string of books as a reminder of what not to do.) Mind you, I am not one to toss a book into the flames after only 50 pages if it’s not a barn burner right out of the chute. I am a forgiving reader, to a point. But after all, these were traditionally published novels, so I shouldn’t have to be that forgiving, right?
Now, here’s the long of it: I had absolutely no idea how to go about writing a novel of any sort. In fact the closest I came to writing anything resembling a story was songwriting. A few similarities do exist between the two, such as both tell a story, and each usually contain a beginning, middle and an end. But I’ve never written or sung a song 400 pages long before, so the real similarities pretty much ended at the fact that both songwriting and book writing share, in my case, only the English language.
I’m telling you now, that I am a person who believes there is a God, and I believe that sometimes he has us do things we have no idea how to do, for a purpose we may never know. I say this because after the frustrated proclamation above, I spent months fighting a single-minded urge to write until the urge consumed me, and I had no choice but to sit down and do it or continue to fight something that would eventually bring me to my knees.
Don’t think that the novel came to me miraculously like the parting of the Red Sea once I started, because it didn’t. God doesn’t always work that way. Picture instead a nerdy, 44 year old woman reading everything she could get her hands on about the basics of writing, about writing good fiction, and anything else that would help her put together an interesting and compelling crime story. Now picture a delete button that no longer says ‘delete’ because of the sheer number of times she had to change what she had written because she discovered, through the books she studied, that she wasn’t doing it quite right. Hence the nearly five years before the novel was completed. (The forests of the world should count themselves lucky that I didn’t start this writing thing back in the days when it was done on typewriters or with ink and paper)
My Point? Inexperience and age should never keep you from writing if you feel compelled to do it. Everything in life has a force behind it and its own time to come to fruition. Is this your time to write that novel you always thought you had in you? Fire up the computer and find out.
Richard McMann hangs by his arms from the rafters of Red Curtain Club- naked. His ankles are bound together and his throat is cut in what appears to be a gruesome still-life tribute to Christ’s crucifixion. There is no blood in spite of the gaping wound to his throat and his entire body is covered by what looks like a fine white powder. The salt granules scattered on the dance floor beneath his feet and the fact that his body faces due east, make his murder different yet similar to the death days earlier in a club a few blocks away.
South Dallas police detective, Olivia Gates and criminal psychologist, Dr. Will Green, engage in a game of wits with a serial killer who haunts the nightclubs of Deep Ellum, leaving behind ritualistic sacrifices of those people he believes deserving of the act. Is he a raging psychopath, killing just to kill, or is there method behind his madness?