GANGS - Everything I never wanted to know

Are you an expert at something? Is there something that you know more about than just about anyone else you know? Is it your passion? Your career? Maybe both? I wish I could say that I was passionate about what I've become more knowledgeable than just about everyone I know. Over the last few years, I've immersed myself in everything gang-related, specifically, Mexican drug cartels, for research in the writing of "Walking Between The Raindrops". This isn't a part of the world that I was even curious about before and I don't think they're glamorous or exciting. On the contrary - I know they are as dangerous as any terrorist organization in the world. I wanted to understand how they operated, what their tactics are and maybe get just a little insight into why they exist. I learned many, many things about these gangs and have some theories, but I still have more questions than answers.

Take this guy, for example:

Until last summer, he was the top enchilada of the notorious Los Zetas Drug Cartel. He'd risen to the top of the "queso" by outliving his predecessors and killing everyone else in his way. He is "Z-40" to his crew and notorious to law enforcement on both sides of the border. Even his closest friends feared him and his favorite brand of torture - "el guiso" or soup, where a victim is bound and beaten, then put into a 50-gallon drum of gasoline and set on fire. One close associate told a journalist that Z-40 couldn't sleep unless he'd killed at least one person a day. Accounts of his ruthless violence would smack of urban legend if it weren't for the pile of bodies he left behind all over Mexico. Yet, he recruited and led hundreds, maybe thousands of young men and women (yes, women) on both sides of the border with the promise of money and belonging.

He's not the top enchilada for that group anymore. Last summer he was arrested by the Mexican Army and whisked away to a prison near Mexico City. His brother is the leader now. And the beat goes on. I wanted to think that people got into gangs because they wanted power over others, easy money and to feel tough. Maybe some do. But how do you explain 12 and 13-year old kids wielding assault rifles and participating in murder for hire?

My theory now? As long as there are young people in the world with no structure in their lives, they will seek it out. When young people feel they have no family, they will seek a family out. If a young person has no hope of ever making their life better, they are easy to exploit with the promise of money. Young people will look for acceptance and expectations, reward and punishment in other groups if they are not receiving it at home. Everyone wants to belong somewhere. My theory is that young people who get into gangs are initially seeking family, love, respect and order even if it kills them.

Bad guys

Writing about bad guys in a novel or screenplay is fun. You can design them to fit whatever ulterior motive your story needs. They can be consciously evil or developmentally evil - your choice. You can describe them in terms your reader will immediately associate with "criminal" (think of Javier Bardem in "No Country For Old Men") or, for a "Dexter" character, endow them with smooth good looks and charm.  It's fun and, ultimately, can make or break your story.

Bad guys in true crime are already drawn. As a writer, it's more important to capture their truth as you find it. It's okay to point out their flaws and highlight their strengths, good or bad, but there is no room for redesign. And that's okay. True bad guys - the living, breathing kind - are the blueprints for all the fictional ones anyway. Digging into their stories, hearing their voices and learning the facts of their crimes makes true bad guys much scarier than any movie bad guys to me.

"Walking Between The Raindrops" - Texas Ranger Matt Lindemann and Williamson County Detective James Maugham question a suspect:

MATT: Who does the brother need to be concerned with - watching out for right now?

AB: Them people from over there from Mexico. Them fools don’t play.

MATT: So, you know what they’ll be driving? It’s not like – it’s not Jorge?

AB: Uh-uh. But, they’ll probably come in Tahoes or some shit, which is out of the blue, some low bullshit, shitty cars. Just f***ing go light them up.

Imagine...

...Reprising from the original post - my way of counting down to book release...

Imagine that you're blindfolded, your wrists are bound tight by a plastic zip tie and the people who have you constantly tell you that you'll be tortured and mutilated or burned alive or shot or even eaten by lions if ransom isn't paid. Imagine that each possible end to your life is told slowly, one at a time in graphic detail and with great relish on the part of whoever is talking.  Imagine, also, that you are kept in a room like this and that it's dark and then light and then dark and then light, over and over to make you think that days are going by instead of hours. And, imagine a person holding a gun to your head over and over and over. He pulls the trigger again and again and again. You hear a click but you know a bullet could be in the next chamber. Imagine the nightmares you might have.


"I look around and see four other people, young Mexicans, their tied hands behind their backs, being unloaded from a truck. Once unloaded, they are told to get down on their knees and wait. After what seems several minutes, a couple of men carrying guns walk from the building I’m in and lead the four back. They enter in a big door. The door closes behind them. Suddenly, I hear screams and the popping of gun shots. The door opens again. Four men drag four bloody bundles, each the size of a human being, and toss them into the shrimp boat. I can’t look away as I watch what is going on outside the building. This is going to happen to me and my family will never know what happened to me." - excerpt from "Walking Between The Raindrops"

Imagine...