I'm not a crazyperson. I've never killed anyone and I habour no desire to do so in the future. I love animals and grew up in a home where they were always around and well-treated. I do not live in a dark, ill-lit basement surrounded by terrariums full of tarantulas and scorpions. I have never read the Necronomicon and I don't participate in pagan rites.
I only say so because I, along with plenty of other horror writers, have had to deal with the "you must be a real sicko" question from time to time. The implicit part of that being: I've got to be a sociopath to write the things I write. The deeper implicitness being: if I weren't writing this stuff, I'd probably be out killing people in order to realease those terrible urges.
Now let me make one thing perfectly clear—I live my life the way I want to live it. And if I wanted to kill people, you can bet your ass I'd've been doing it by now. My basement would be full of corpses dissolving under a soothing layer of quicklime. There would be APBs out for me all over, with photos of big-chinned, red-haired face plastered all over the wanted poster. I am a finisher, damn it, so I do what I like and I get things DONE!
But since I have no desire to kill anyone at all, and since I'm a well-adjusted individual free or rage and persecution issues, I just felt that I'd post a few photos of myself and my family to kind of nip those sentiments ("You're a raving lunatic! You're the sickest of all sickos and you ought to be locked up in the bughouse, where you can write your trash on the rubber walls with your own filth!) in the bud.
Now of course, you could see these photos and say to yourself, "Well, what else would a cunning psycho do? Build a family life. Impart that veneer of normalcy. What better smokescreen to shield his heinous deeds?" To which I'd say: there are some people you'll never convince ...
MY SON AND I (TO BE TOTALLY HONEST, I'M WATCHING "HELLRAISER" ON NETFLIX HERE, BUT HE'S ASLEEP, DREAMING OF SUGARPLUM FAIRIES OR WHATEVER BABIES DREAM ABOUT, SO REALLY, I'M SURE THE SHRIEKS OF THE MUTILATED AND OTHER CARNAGE DIDN'T BOTHER HIM AT ALL).
ANOTHER PHOTO OF MY SON AND I (GRANTED, I'M WHISPERING AN ANCIENT DRUIDIC CURSE INTO HIS EAR, BUT HE SEEMS TO LIKE IT ...)
MY FIANCEE WITH OUR SON (AND OKAY, YEAH, SHE'S A SATANIST BUT SO AM I SO THAT WORKS OUT WELL AND WE GET A FAMILY DISCOUNT ON SHEEP'S BLOOD AT THE BUTCHER SHOP).
Nick the Psycho.