Yep. I thought it might catch your attention.
So…this is how it happened.
It was a dark and stormy night. The rain slapped against the window panes like-
No, on second thought, it was a bright, sunny day in January. I was writing my latest thriller- Redeem me. I wanted to know vital stuff about police homicidal investigations. I don’t have any cop friends in my circle and there was only so much info your best friend Google can unearth for you. Needless to say…I was in a panicky, edgy, need-the-information-now stage. Pretty sure I looked like a hobo too. (Days of pulling your hair, staring at space and living on nachos and salsa will do that to you.)
One bright morning, I had this idea to put me out of my misery. I decided to walk up to the nearby police station and ask the cop in charge for details about homicide investigation proceedings. I even had dreams about the cop going all gobsmacked over my talent and sharing some juicy, insider-only information about some particularly gruesome cases with me.
The walk up to the station part went okay. Even checking in with the receptionist bit went smoothly. Then came the not-so-fun part. Maybe it was the way I looked, or I smelt, I was taken to this special room along with a nice lady cop. Even though certain alarm bells went clanging inside my head, I went along. By then I was a nervous, blubbering mess.
After a few minutes into the conversation, I realised that the questions were moving in the line of “Just-give-us-the-name-of-the-boyfriend-who-did-this-to-you-and we-will-give-him-a special-VIP-treatment.” That’s when the puzzle finally clicked inside my head. So I had to back track, explain the reasons for my visit.
For a few minutes, there was absolute silence in the room. Then the cop levelled me with a hard glare and asked- “So…you’re a writer?”
Keep smiling. Don’t pass out.
“I spent,” a quick glance at her watch.” nearly fifteen minutes of my time for this?”
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
I gave her another nervous smile.
After a head shake, and a few choice words to remind me about valuable cop time (which I don’t think I should repeat here), the nice lady escorted me back to the reception and left me there.
Case to the point: Stick with Google.