Why is so much murder, mystery and sexual brutality condensed among the few duplex homes built so close together on the Elm Street cul d'sac?
How much pain, horror and anguish can one cul d'sac endure? Why is so much murder, mystery and sexual brutality condensed among the few duplex homes built so close together? The answers are found within the language of flowers; and the language of flowers can be brutally frank. They can also save your life.
I have never known the end of a book when I start it. I always felt knowing the end was a fraud upon the reader. The characters should discover their own ends. Outlining never worked for me. In Blow Up the Roses, I didn't know why Mr. Keene deserted Mrs. Keene. I didn't know the horrible truth about Mr. Brown, who rented the other side of the duplex from the Keenes. I didn't know why Mr. Califano had this recurring nightmare of a rose garden blowing up around him. I didn't know why I didn't trust Mr. Griswald and his Amway sales program.
When I found out, I almost stopped writing the book. But sometimes characters demand their lives be put on paper. And sometimes it is far easier to create characters than destroy them -- until they destroy themselves.