While attention to details is necessary for any piece of involved writing an intentional lack of details might be necessary as well. The best writers always view their writing as their characters. Don't write it as if you were watching someone else's life on a television show; write instead as if you were writing a journal entry in your own personal diary. There are so many things that we do automatically when we view our surroundings that most people don't even think about. When looking at other people we automatically start to scrutinize them. We take in the basics (height, weight, age, etc.) but we also take in the more complex things (attitude, facial expressions, body posture, etc.). All of these things we put together to gauge people. We pick how to react to them from a complex mixture of how they act and what they look like.
Now, the question is what does this have to do with perspective? Perspective is all about how we view things differently than everyone else. It's why things will look differently from the perspective of a murderer than they will from the prospective of a witness. So, why does perspective matter? You have to choose perspective depending on what you want people to get out of what happens. I've ready books that were completely one perspective that were awesome and I've read some that showed the same story from several different perspectives. They each had their place and each had a purpose. So the question is, which perspective fits your purpose?
My head hurts, it's the dang bright light that they won't turn off. I know that they want me to be uncomfortable, but do they really have to make my head hurt like this. It feels like hours that I've sat here with the detectives throwing out questions at me. I haven't said a thing, but that stupid light! It takes every ounce of strength that I have to not jump up and break the bulb. Just put me in a cell already and call it a day. At least the cells aren't lit up like the surface of the sun.
Finally one of the detectives gets up and calls the officers to the door to escort me back to my cell. I smile knowing that they didn't make me do it this time. Last time I was in an interrogation room they locked me up for a week for smashing a light bulb and the reason they brought me in wasn't even anything to do with me. This time I endure because they don't think I can. I have to prove it to them. I have to let them know that I've improved, that I'm better than them now. The look of confusion on their faces makes my smile bigger. I have a secret and they don't like secrets. If only they knew....
Detective Richards was tired, the day had been a long one and there was only one more thing to do before she could go home. She had to get the killer to confess. They already had all the evidence that they needed to lock him away for the rest of his natural life and possibly more, but the confession is still a nice thing to have. When they had looked him up they found that he had only been in jail once and that was for going crazy in an interrogation room when he was brought in on suspicion of a robbery at a bank nearby where he lived, but was cleared of all suspicion when he was found on video camera at his workplace at the time when the robbery went down.
She twisted off the top of the water bottle that she had and took a sip. "You sure that you don't want something to drink Mr. Daniels?" She pushed the other water bottle a couple inches closer to their suspect. "We have been in here for awhile and you look like you might be a bit parched." It wasn't that she needed him to drink from the bottle that kept her asking this every ten minutes, it was the look on his face that said he might pass out on them. It was a good thing that something kept him shaken up, but it would not be a good thing if he passed out on them in interrogation.
With a small sigh she looked at her partner, Detective Martinez, and gave him the look that says "I give up, care for a turn." He immediately took over from her. "Mr. Daniels, you've worked as a janitor at Cross Construction's main office for the last five months, isn't that correct?" The silence continued. Their suspect hadn't said a word since they brought him in an hour ago. He just kept up doing as he had the whole time, seeming to focus on a single spot in the room and look right through it as if he was looking out over a vast field. He'd randomly change the spot every few minutes but the look remained the same as if he wasn't even on planet earth anymore. "You know that the evidence against you has pretty well sealed the deal already, we've told you this several times by now. Why don't you see if you can make things easier on yourself and give us something? What harm could it do now, right?" Still nothing.
Martinez give him a couple minutes then turned back to Richards and shrugged. It was obvious to them both that they weren't going to get anything else out of him. For that matter they hadn't gotten anything out of him, it was as if he had forgotten his ability to speak. Richards got up, opened the door and waved in the officers that were waiting for him. "He's all yours. Looks like he lost he tongue when the poor girl lost hers." When she turned back into the room she saw the creepiest thing that she'd seen all night, Mr. Daniels was smiling. It wasn't a smile of relief it was a maniacal smile that seemed to get bigger and bigger.
Without waiting for her partner Richards turned around, walked back to the elevator and pushed the button for the fifth floor where her office was. This case was getting to her more and more with each piece of new evidence. She needed to get it together before she lost it instead of their suspect.
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