I found this cute little comic and totally laughed out loud when I read it, because for a writer, this hits close to home. I can't tell you how many times my husband has looked over at me, while I've been silently lost in thought, and asked what I'm thinking:
"You have a weird look on your face. What's going on inside your head?"
And more than several times I've shocked him with my answer:
"I'm wondering if you were to shove a six inch knife up through someone's chin could it penetrate the roof of their mouth and how hard would you have to shove it to make it stick?"
It's at this point where he simply nods and removes himself from the room.
The scary thing is that these thoughts then lead me to do research on my computer: What's it like to skin a rabbit? When was blood transfusions invented? If a veterinarian had to cut off a human arm, do they have the tools and medicine (and skills) to do it? How deadly is one stick of dynamite? Can it blow off someone's legs? How much pressure do you need to apply to a person's windpipe to knock them out without killing them? How much pressure to kill them? What kind of poisons are deadly but undetectable in food and in blood tests?
So yeah, should some crime happen in my vacinity and I'm looked at as a possible suspect, regardless of my innocence, I'm totally going to jail. "But I'm an AUTHOR, your Honor! I only kill fictional people, I swear! Ignore the blood and guts research on my laptop. Those pictures of raw brains mean NOTHING!" Yep, I'm going to jail. If you ask me what I'm thinking, be prepared to be slightly disturbed (I know other writers who's thoughts are way worse *shudders*).
Are you one of those writers? :)
"You have a weird look on your face. What's going on inside your head?"
And more than several times I've shocked him with my answer:
"I'm wondering if you were to shove a six inch knife up through someone's chin could it penetrate the roof of their mouth and how hard would you have to shove it to make it stick?"
It's at this point where he simply nods and removes himself from the room.
The scary thing is that these thoughts then lead me to do research on my computer: What's it like to skin a rabbit? When was blood transfusions invented? If a veterinarian had to cut off a human arm, do they have the tools and medicine (and skills) to do it? How deadly is one stick of dynamite? Can it blow off someone's legs? How much pressure do you need to apply to a person's windpipe to knock them out without killing them? How much pressure to kill them? What kind of poisons are deadly but undetectable in food and in blood tests?
So yeah, should some crime happen in my vacinity and I'm looked at as a possible suspect, regardless of my innocence, I'm totally going to jail. "But I'm an AUTHOR, your Honor! I only kill fictional people, I swear! Ignore the blood and guts research on my laptop. Those pictures of raw brains mean NOTHING!" Yep, I'm going to jail. If you ask me what I'm thinking, be prepared to be slightly disturbed (I know other writers who's thoughts are way worse *shudders*).
Are you one of those writers? :)
