I have no idea what makes us ( that's the 'collective' us) want to watch others' lives spiral out of control. Ok- maybe not in real life, but there are those of us who crave a good whodunit like a chocoholic needs a sugar fix.
I discovered my own need for this somewhat unsavory past time while still very young; Agatha Christie opened my eyes to the just-below-the-surface evil tendencies that some folks can't ignore. What amazed me was how Dame Agatha could dress up the villain (or villainess) in the clothes of normalacy. That alone would send shivers down my spine; according to the typical Christie plot, these baddies were the least likely folks to be suspected of wrong doing. It's really remarkable that I trusted anyone at all. After all, if the vicar's wife could kill off the local snoop and still host a parish tea, anybody was capable of murder, right?
Flash forward a few decades and you'll find me on the other end of the pen, so to speak. I want to continue the time-honored tradtion of vicariously stepping into the lives of others, watching a mystery unfold, and helping to solve the crime of the century. I like to think Agatha would be proud.