Showing, not telling in a policing world – Jericho Writers
Jericho Writers
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Showing, not telling in a policing world

Showing, not telling in a policing world

Ask any cop what the go-to insult of those hilarious people on a night out is and I’ll bet you they reply with, ‘Oink oink. Can anyone smell pork?’ As you can imagine that splits their sides. So much so that they often ask the comedian to come and spend the night in their free bed and breakfast facility to reward their wit.

As writers, we are always being told to ‘show’ through the senses. How do things sound, smell, feel, look, taste? The good news is that police stations and crime scenes are replete with stimulants to excite each sense, except maybe taste.

Immersing the reader

So, unless you’ve been in the police or had the misfortune to grace the inside of a cell block, been victim or witness to a violent crime or worked in a mortuary, you might only be able to imagine the unique, gut wrenching smells that such workplaces emanate.

Take a cell block – or custody suite as they are sometimes pompously called. Who’s resident behind the three inch green (or blue) steel doors? Well, you have drunks, vagrants, prisoners entering their third shower-less day, the incontinent (often deliberately so), the dirty protestors and just your average Joe whose fetid footwear stands sentry outside their cell. Add to that the whiff of cleaning fluid and the cremation of microwave ready-meals and you start to get an idea of just how violently the olfactory glands are assaulted.

What about the sounds? It might come as a surprise that many prisoners don’t just settle down quietly with a book and wait for their turn to be interviewed. Some like to remind the custody officers they are still there, sometimes in quite colourful terms. A few tenacious souls believe that if they punch, or headbutt, the metal door often enough they will break through to freedom. Unsurprisingly, their neighbours have a view about this constant racket and offer to rearrange the culprit’s body parts the moment they meet. On a serious note, there are far too many people with mental health problems in police cells and the sounds of their distress can be heartbreaking.

As well as the din created by the prisoners, custody staff often find it difficult to gently close the cell doors when a hefty slam seems far more satisfying. Their key-chains jangle at every move and police officers’ radios squawk and bleat pretty much constantly.

It’s no less distinctive out at crime scenes. I remember, as a tender eighteen-year-old recruit arriving to the report of a man being beaten half to death behind some shops in Bognor Regis. As we stepped out of the car, I asked my tutor what that smell was. ‘Get used to it son, it’s the cocktail of death.’ Luckily this chap did not die but the aroma still lingered. The blend of blood and alcohol produces a sickly sweet, yet ferrous, smell. It’s quite distinctive but strangely not that unpleasant. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t buy it as a fragrance but it’s not as revolting as the cell block or, worse still, the lung-lingering stench of a decomposing body or the odours a body wafts during a post mortem.

Applying this to characters

If your protagonist is a police officer then never forget they are human beings. Both of my non-fiction books deliberately depict what it feels like to police certain incidents. Cops experience fear, dread, pain and PTSD the same as everyone else. They also have to show gargantuan restraint (imagine interviewing a child rapist and keeping your anger in check), stem the giggles and turn to gallows humour to get through the day. You will want your readers to really care about your characters so showing these states, maybe through ‘close point of view’, is essential. Don’t be afraid for them to cry, get angry or make mistakes as, after all, aren’t these the symptoms of stress and isn’t that great to put your characters through? I’m often accused of subjecting my fictional protagonist Chief Superintendent Jo Howe to the most dreadful jeopardy, but that’s the point!

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If you’d like more invaluable insights from Graham you can join him on the next intake for Writing Crime and Thriller Novels. Fancy meeting him before you commit to taking the course? You can book a 20-minute Meet Your Tutor session for just £20, which is fully refundable against the cost of the course if you go on to study with us.