Why a Killer’s Point of View Can Deepen a Crime Novel
Writing a scene from the killer’s point of view is a demanding choice. It can expose the machinery of a crime, yet it can also conceal the emotional truth that makes the mystery worth following. The scene must offer access without handing over every answer.
For a crime writer working with a recurring investigator such as Thorkild Aske, narrative perspective becomes part of the investigation. The reader may enter the criminal mind briefly, then return to the detective’s uncertainty, carrying a troubling fragment that changes the meaning of everything around it.
The distance that makes darkness legible
A killer’s viewpoint can create a particular kind of tension because the reader knows the character’s intention before another character does. A hand reaching for a phone, a car turning down an empty road or a pause outside a lit window may become ominous without requiring violence on the page.
That access also creates distance. The writer does not need to make the killer sympathetic, and should be careful not to confuse explanation with excuse. The purpose is to understand the character’s logic, fear or self-deception, not to ask the reader to approve of the act.
A killer is not a shortcut to suspense
The criminal mind is often less orderly than crime fiction suggests. A person who commits murder may be impulsive in one moment, meticulous in another and incapable of seeing the consequences clearly. If every thought sounds clever, controlled and sinister, the character becomes a performance rather than a living presence.
I look for the small contradiction: someone who rehearses an alibi but forgets an ordinary detail, or someone who claims to feel nothing while noticing the brand of coffee in a victim’s kitchen. These details allow suspense to grow from behaviour. They are especially useful when developing a killer’s backstory without revealing the twist too early.
Backstory beneath the visible act
A scene from the murderer’s perspective should usually carry more than plot information. It can suggest a private history, a damaged relationship or a belief that has hardened over time. The backstory may remain incomplete, but its pressure should be felt in the present action.
I often ask what the character thinks they are protecting. That answer might be a person, a reputation, a secret or an image of themselves. Such motives can be morally inadequate and still psychologically credible. The most disturbing choices often arise when a character treats their own explanation as the only possible truth.
Choosing the right narrative lens
Point of view is also a question of timing. A brief interior scene can sharpen the mystery, while a long sequence may drain away uncertainty. The decision depends on how much the reader needs to know and how much the novel can afford to withhold.
| Narrative choice | Effect on suspense | Main risk | Best use |
|---|---|---|---|
| Detective’s viewpoint | Builds uncertainty through clues | Can limit emotional range | Investigation and discovery |
| Killer’s viewpoint | Creates dread through foreknowledge | May reveal too much | Controlled glimpses and reversals |
| Witness’s viewpoint | Shows confusion and consequence | Can feel indirect | Atmosphere and unreliable evidence |
| Multiple viewpoints | Broadens the moral picture | May weaken narrative focus | Complex cases with linked lives |
The shift should feel earned by the structure, not inserted as decoration. A reader will accept a change of viewpoint when it alters the meaning of the case. If it merely repeats information already available, the scene has probably arrived too late or stayed too long.
What the viewpoint can reveal
The criminal perspective works best when it exposes a gap between intention and reality. It can show what the killer notices, misreads or deliberately refuses to see.
Useful material to place inside the scene includes:
- A ritual that calms the character before action
- A sensory detail linked to an old memory
- A false belief about the victim or investigator
- A practical mistake that later becomes evidence
The scene can also deepen the detective’s presence without giving the detective the page. The killer may fear Thorkild Aske, underestimate him or construct an imaginary version of him. That distorted image tells us as much about the criminal as it does about the investigator.
Keep the language close to the character’s mental habits. A killer who thinks in legal phrases will produce a different scene from one who thinks through smells, textures or fragments of sound. Voice is evidence too, and readers should feel that the viewpoint belongs to one particular consciousness.
Australian settings, local pressure
An Australian setting brings its own practical texture to a crime scene. A killer in Melbourne may be navigating tram lines, laneways and the daily ritual of stopping for takeaway coffee. In Sydney, distance, toll roads and the movement between suburbs can shape an alibi as much as motive does. These ordinary patterns make a fictional crime feel located rather than generic.
The local market matters as well. Australian readers are familiar with crime stories that move between domestic realism and psychological intensity, while publishers and booksellers must position an individual novel within a crowded international field. A scene that depends on a recognisable setting can help distinguish the book without turning place into tourism.
Legal reality should remain in the background but not be ignored. Privacy concerns, defamation law and the careful handling of identifiable people affect how writers use real institutions and public allegations. Even everyday habits—checking a phone on a train, paying by card, meeting someone after work—can provide credible traces without turning the narrative into a procedural manual.
Returning the story to its moral centre
The killer’s viewpoint should eventually return the reader to consequence. The crime is not only an intellectual puzzle or a private drama inside the offender’s head; it changes families, communities and the investigators who carry knowledge of it. A perspective shift has value when it enlarges that human cost.
This is part of the wider reason for presenting an author’s work, background and publications with care, as the official author information surrounding the Thorkild Aske novels does. The books belong to a larger creative record: translations, reviews, press responses and the continuing relationship between writer and reader.
I sometimes write a scene from the killer’s point of view because it lets the novel examine the story’s hidden pressure from inside. The scene should unsettle, complicate and reveal character, while preserving enough uncertainty for the investigation to breathe. What the reader should remember is simple: entering the killer’s mind is most powerful when it clarifies the darkness without allowing that darkness to control the whole story.