Yesterday on this blog as part of the promotion of My Pet Serial Killer where Michael Seidlinger profiles various bloggers as a serial killer, he profiled me as a serial killer. Then I thought, why should he have all the fun? Hell, I thought I’d profile him:
Alias/Known As: “That Sick Writerly Bastard”
Real name: Michael J. Seidlinger
Number of victims: Impossible to determine at a given moment–increases constantly in relation to readership of My Pet Serial Killer.
~Operates by sneaking into victims minds and unwinding illusions/gutting preconceived notions as opposed to physical attacks on corporeal bodies.
~Voted ‘most likely to disturb’ by a high school he didn’t even attend. Twice.
~Thought to subtly conceal his deadly writerly word weapons within multiple layers of seemingly innocuous narrative and description.
~Due to the fact that his method of murder technically doesn’t kill the corporeal bodies of victims, murder laws all over the world had to be revised in order to fight his crimes. Such amended murder laws are referred to as ‘writerly murder’ statutes.
~Rumored to have an unnatural fascination/fear of cymbal monkeys:
~Known to use the word ‘writerly’ in casual conversation, often in situations where the term makes no sense.
~Was once apprehended by police, but arresting officers later found sobbing alone in squad car and were never again able to communicate by coherent speech much less relate what happened or where the suspect went.
He’s hesitating so I begin to pull him away but then he buckles, “I’m yours! I’m yours!” And then I’m telling him it’s all easy if you’re willing to do everything I say. As long as he lends every inch of himself as well as every aspect of his work, to me, everything will be taken care of. He’ll never be found and I’ll do all the finding for him.
No one will ever be the same.