Immersion Technique #WriteTip

Every character is the hero of their own story. Even the villain.

We’ve talked many times about the importance of fleshing out characters. This time let’s reframe the narrative for those who may not grasp the finer details of crafting a compelling villain.

It’s easy to tell a fellow writer to slip into the villain’s skin and view the world through their eyes—I’ve given the same advice—but for those who haven’t mastered characterization, it may not be enough.

  • How does one craft a killer when they’ve never committed a crime?
  • How can we champion a villain’s efforts with no real-world experience?

Sure, we can draw conclusions and make assumptions. Is that enough for readers?

  • Is there a way to pull from life experience, to really feel what it’s like to transform into somebody else?

Yes, there is. And it’s called immersion. Method actors use the same technique.

The dictionary defines immersion as “deep mental involvement.” It can also mean engagement, as in a mixture of how much you’re paying attention, how submerged you are in an experience, and how it affects you emotionally.

Immersion, whether real or imagined, taps into fundamental psychological principles like perception, emotional engagement, and the sense of presence. It involves a combination of sensory stimuli, cognitive engagement, and emotional resonance that creates a feeling of being completely absorbed in the experience.

Immersive experiences are rich and complex, drawing upon personal experiences, and engage with emotions through the manipulation of the five senses. They’re described as transformational, intense, sometimes hectic, and provoking.

What we see tells us a lot about the world around us, but what the body experiences is much more powerful.

How we immerse ourselves in a life unlike our own starts with walking in their shoes. Listen to the villain’s favorite music. Eat their favorite foods. View the world through their eyes.

  • What’s their culture like?
  • What’s their theme song?
  • What’s their religion, politics, and views on other hot topics?
  • Do they like the rain? Cold weather? Scorching hot sun?
  • Are they happy with where they live? Or have they been trying to escape the area for years?
  • What do they do for a living? Do they have buddies at work?
  • Are they body conscious and drink water all day? Or do they drink black coffee till noon, then switch to scotch?
  • Do they smoke? I’m not proposing you start smoking but you can pretend.

Even if the character’s actions rub against your values and beliefs, you must find at least one redeeming quality, or at least be able to empathize with a part of them.

Take Ed Kemper, for example. His mother was a severe alcoholic who favored his two sisters and never missed the chance to belittle him. Ed’s father, a World War II veteran, hated his wife. The couple divorced when Ed was still in grammar school.

Living with his mother was no picnic. She locked him in the cellar for days and/or weeks at a time—alone—a bare lightbulb hanging from a wire in the center of the dark and creepy space. Since the door locked from the outside, the only way out was through a trap door beneath the dining room table.

Trapped, Ed lay on the cold cement floor staring into the flame of the furnace. And it was then, he later told an FBI profiler, he saw the face of the Devil for the first time. That period of his life exacerbated his already fractured mind.

Later, at age 14, his father sent him to live with his grandparents in California. Interestingly, Maude (grandmother) was an extra in Gone with the Wind and a writer for Redbook McCall’s. Even so, Ed hated living there, calling his grandfather “senile” and his grandmother, well, this is how he described her…

“She thought she had more balls than any man and was constantly emasculating me and my grandfather to prove it. I couldn’t please her. It was like being in jail. I became a walking time bomb, and I finally blew.”

And blew he did, with the murder of his grandparents. Authorities sent him to Atascadero State Hospital, a maximum-security facility where doctors subjected him to various tests. One of which illuminated his genius IQ. They also diagnosed him as a paranoid schizophrenic.

In the six years he spent at the institution, he became one of the doctors’ favorite patients. They even allowed him to assist in conducting tests on other inmates, until 1969 when they released him into his mother’s care.

Big mistake. At 6 ft. 9 inches tall and 250 pounds, Ed was a mammoth with a genius IQ and a rage inside him.

After killing and decapitating six young women, he finally turned his wrath on Mother—the true source of his hatred—murdering, decapitating, and using her head as a dartboard. He also tore out Mother’s vocal cords and shoved them down the garbage disposal. When the disposal spat the gristly innards back out, he said to himself,

“That seems appropriate as much as she’d bitched and screamed and yelled at me over so many years.”

With his personal monster dead, Ed turned himself into police. He had no reason to kill anymore. He’s lived at California Medical Facility in Vacaville ever since. As a model inmate, he’s allowed to work as an audiobook narrator.

If Ed Kemper was a fictional villain, how would you make him the hero of his own story?

We’d need to focus on the abused little boy, alone and frightened, that still cried inside him and the personable guy who doctors adored. Does that mean I agree with what he did? Absolutely not. But as writers, we must find a way to justify his actions. We must. Otherwise, the villain will fall flat.

Now, don’t tell the reader what redeeming qualities you clung to while writing. Show them a tidbit here and there—just enough to pique curiosity and drive the plot—that make him feel more human. Or let the hero figure it out on their own.

If the villain is a series character, only reveal enough to intrigue and drive the plot. I did this with my serial killer named Mayhem. In three books, I showed him as a merciless serial killer. I also showed his love of animals, especially his sidekick Poe, the crow, and how tender he could be when caring for a wife stricken with ALS and his close relationship with his daughter and grandson.

Mayhem loves fine wine and is an expert chef, but he’s offended by bad language and numerous other things, especially rapists, cannibals, and child killers. Readers fell in love with Mayhem. Deeply in love. So much so, I had to transform him into an antihero in later books.

Readers understand, even champion, why he kills.

We did the same with Dexter. Who didn’t love to watch him murder other serial killers? Genius on Lindsay’s part.

Find a different angle for your villain. Copycats aren’t unique or memorable. Villains are some of the most difficult characters to craft because they do bad things. I also find villains and antiheroes the most rewarding to write.

The next time you craft a character vastly different from yourself, try immersion. It works for the entire cast, including heroes, sidekicks, foils, secondary characters, etc.

Tips To Write a Character You Hate

Have you ever written from the perspective of a character you hated?

It’s a unique experience for me. Which is sayin’ something, considering I write psychological thrillers involving serial killers. With all my other serial killer characters, I could find at least one endearing quality, and I clung to that while I wrote from their perspective. I may not have agreed with their motivations, but at least I understood how they justifIed their actions.

Let me back up a minute.

I mentioned in one of my Reader Friday questions that I’ve been teaching a virtual course about serial killers as part of the Advanced Education Program for a school in Connecticut. I’m also racing toward the finish line in Book 5 of my Grafton County Series. I drew a firm line between the two projects until an Ah-ha! moment slapped me across the face. I was working on the lesson plan for Week 3 of my course when a deliciously evil idea popped into my head.

Don’t you love when that happens?

Even though the finish line was within reach, I couldn’t ignore the new idea. It’s a game-changer, and the perfect way to round out the series as a whole. It also required me to go back to page one, drop a few new clues, and include POV chapters from the killer.

Writing from a serial killer’s point of view isn’t anything new for me. In my Mayhem Series, readers expect a cat-and-mouse chase with alternating POVs between protagonist and antagonist. The Grafton County Series is different. I don’t normally include scenes/chapters from the killer’s POV.

To write a character in deep POV we need to know everything about them or slipping into their skin would be challenging to say the least. And here’s where my two projects—fiction and nonfiction—blurred together.

Out of all the serial killers we’ve discussed during class the most frightening of all was a nasty individual named Israel Keyes, whose MO happened to fit my plot. As part of my research for class, I sat through endless video confessions from Keyes, and learned a lot about who he was as a person and what motivated him to kill. Subconsciously, I must have had in mind all along and only now realized it. After all, if I fear him, so will my readers.

To write from his point of view, I had to view the world as he did. Think as he did. Feel—or more accurately, not feel—as he did. This was problematic for one huge reason—I despised everything about him. He’s evil to the core and didn’t possess even one redeeming quality.

Now, you could say, but Sue, this is fiction. You can add anything you want to his characterization. True, but then he wouldn’t be as frightening.

See what I’m sayin’?

The part of him that most frightened me was his complete lack of empathy toward anyone or anything, his arrogance, his inflated self-worth, and the violent blitz attack of his home invasions. If I softened his psychopathic personality, I’d lose the qualities that made me choose him in the first place. A softer villain wouldn’t pack the same punch. And let’s face it, after going head-to-head with numerous other serial killers in Books 1-4, my protagonist is no shrinking violent. She needs a frightening opponent.

Basing an antagonist on a real serial killer is hardly a new concept.

In the 1960s, Thomas Harris was visiting the Topo Chico Penitentiary in Nuevo Leon, Mexico while working on a story for Argosy, an American pulp fiction magazine that ran for 96 years, between 1882 and 1978. The 23-year-old Harris was interviewing prisoner Dykes Askew Simmons, who was committed to the prison’s psych. ward and sentenced to death for a triple murder. Simmons bribed a guard to help him escape. The guard took the money but had second thoughts during the prison break and shot Simmons.

As Simmons lay on the ground, bleeding out, another inmate, Dr. Alfredo Balli Trevino, treated the gunshot wound, saving his life.

This led Harris to develop an interest in Trevino. He interviewed the doctor and learned Trevino was convicted for the murder of his boyfriend, Jesus Castillo Rangel, in a “crime of passion” after an argument.

Apparently, Rangel had attacked Trevino with a screwdriver. The enraged doctor administered anesthetic to Rangel’s body and dragged him to a bathtub, where he slit his throat, draining all the blood out of his body. Trevino then chopped up Rangel’s body into small pieces and packed them into a box, drove to a relative’s farm, and asked if he could bury medical waste there. One of the farm workers called the police.

Thomas Harris said the doctor “had a certain elegance about him,” even as he discussed dismembering his boyfriend in a bathtub.

I found no such qualities in Israel Keyes.

How do we write from a hateful, despicable point of view?

Much like an actor who plays a villain, we must become one with the character. We have to identify with him. Win his arguments, even if those twisted views rub against our values. I despise this antagonist as much as I do Israel Keyes. Doesn’t matter. Our job is to breathe life into him, bring him to life on the page. The only time we can express our own personal feelings is through the protagonist if, and only if, the protagonist shares our views.

I find it easier to skip over a hateful character’s chapters while drafting the storyline. Then I take a day or two, get into character, and bang out his chapters. The next day when I reread those chapters I’m stunned by his actions and comments. That’s a good thing. If it shocks me (the writer), imagine readers’ reactions.

In my case, though the real killer can’t hurt anyone else—he committed suicide like a coward—it’s left me with one burning question: How many other Israel Keyes walk among us? I’d tell you, but I don’t want to shatter your reality. 🙂

Have you ever written a hateful, angry POV character? Did you handle it in a similar way?

Reader Friday: What Subjects Are You Passionate About?

Last Tuesday marked the start of a new endeavor for me: teaching a 5-week course on serial killers. I never tire of the subject. To some, it may seem like a strange passion/obsession, but all aspects of murder and forensics fascinate me.

Apart from the craft of writing, what subject(s) are you passionate about?

Where Do You Find Inspiration?

By Sue Coletta

Whenever I’m plotting a new novel, I read a lot of true crime stories for inspiration. I may even steal character traits from one real world serial killer or victim and combine them with another. Reading triggers the muse to fire off plot, character, and subplot ideas. Somedays, though, the stories are almost too bizarre to believe. In which case, I’ve merely entertained myself for a while. Nonetheless, I wouldn’t call it wasted time, because true stories have a way of worming into our subconscious mind. When we’re in the writing zone, these alleged “useless facts” can morph into an intriguing scene that we never expected. Don’t you love when that happens?

With that in mind, I pose the following question to you, my dear TKZers. Did you know serial killing families existed? I’ve written about them before on my blog, as well as serial killing couples, which aren’t as rare.

Wes Craven found inspiration for his 1977 slasher film The Hills Have Eyes when he read about the horrors of one particular family of serial killers — the Sawney Bean clan. This is their story. (Did anyone else hear Law & Order’s theme song when they read that line?)

In the times of King James I, Mr. and Mrs. Sawney Bean transformed Bennane Cave, by Ballantrae in Ayrshire, Scotland, into their home. Long, twisting tunnels extended for more than a mile underground. The cave also featured several side passageways to accommodate a growing family. And grew they did. Over the years they created their own army of psychopathic cannabals.

Opposed to getting a job to support his new bride, Sawney Bean resorted to robbery. On the lonely back roads that connected the villages, he’d lie in wait for travelers to pass by. Townsfolk believed the roads were haunted due to the massive amount of disappearances.

A budding serial killer stalked those streets.

Bean’s sole reason for escalating to murder was to not leave witnesses. But then, Agnes, his wife, had an even sicker idea. If they butchered their victims, their remains could provide a high-protein diet, which had the added benefit of evidence disposal. Their relationship had already forced them to flee from their homeland in northern Scotland, after locals repeatedly made accusations of Agnes being a witch, claiming she’d been involved in human sacrifice and conjuring demons.

Over the years Sawney and his wife had fourteen children — all as twisted and evil as their parents — who became an army of serial killing cannibals.

During the next two decades, through incest, the children bore more children, who refined the art of murder and cannibalism, often salting and pickling human flesh. According to the Bean family ledger, found many years later, these incestuous acts brought Bean and Agnes a total of 18 grandsons and 14 granddaughters, now bringing the Bean clan to a total of 48 inbred, cannibalistic monsters.

Decaying body parts washed up on the beaches surrounding Bennane cave. Which prompted massive search parties. But no one thought to check the cave.

In about 1430 A.D., fate intervened when the Bean army — who had split into several small groups to hunt — attacked a man and his wife while on their way home from the fair. Half the Bean clan dragged the woman off her horse and had already disemboweled her before the other half of the group had a chance to wrestle the man to the ground. Fighting for his life, the distraught husband trampled several members of the Bean clan with his horse. This caused such a commotion a group of twenty bystanders came to his rescue.

During an all-out war, the Bean clan found themselves outnumbered for the first time in their pathetic lives. They retreated to the cave, leaving behind the mutilated remains of the man’s wife and a score of witnesses. The surviving victim was taken to the Chief Magistrate of Glasgow to tell his tale. With the longest missing persons list the country had ever seen, they reported to King James I, who arrived in Ayshire with his own army of 400 men and a pack of dogs.

Together with several hundred volunteers, another search was underway. Yet again, no one thought to search the cave. Until one cadaver dog alerted at the entrance.

Nothing could have prepared them for the horrors inside. The Bean family lived in that cave for 25 years. In total, the number of missing persons during that time is said to be over 1000.

Bennane Cave

Torches in hand and swords drawn, the army soldiered into Bennane cave and into the mile-long twisting passageways to the inner sanctum of the Bean lair. Dank cave walls held row after row of human limbs, heads, and torsos displayed like the window of a butcher shop. Bundles of clothes, jewelry, and picked-clean bones littered the ground.

A fight broke out between the King’s Army and the forty-eight Bean members, resulting in the arrest and apprehension of Sawney Bean and his kin.

Their crimes were so heinous that normal channels weren’t enough, so King James I sentenced them all to death. Twenty-seven Bean men were left to exsanguinate after executioners disarticulated their limbs. The twenty-one Bean women were hung, staked, forced to watch their male kin bleed out, and finally. set ablaze. Through the entire ordeal not one member of the Bean family showed any sign of fear or remorse. Instead, they spit obscenities toward their captors.

Until the moment Sawney Bean drew his final breath, he repeated one continuous phrase, “It isn’t over, it will never be over.”

Legend says, one of the daughters escaped during the fight with the King’s Army and a local family adopted her. At seventeen years old, she married and had a son. In hard times they also killed and cannibalized to stay alive. When the villagers caught wind of their gruesome activities they hung the Bean daughter and her husband, but not before her son escaped to America, settling what was then known as Roanke Island. The entire colony later disappeared without a trace.

Legend also says that if you sit under the hanging tree in Scotland, you can still hear the Bean daughter’s bones scrape against the bark.

I’ll end this post the same way it began. Where do you find inspiration?