no, I don’t drink blood or bathe in it, really…

Someone commented recently about the irony of my inherent shyness (which I have mentioned on this blog) considering I chose the point of view of a shameless, knife-wielding murderer for my first book. It begs the question: why do we, as writers, write what we do? What is it that draws us to tell the stories of particular characters, regardless of how (un)pleasant these people may be? As I’m sure I’ve said before, Erzebet was fascinating to write about – but I wouldn’t want to have tea with her.