Drop the Pen! What Every Writer Should Know about Real Police Work: PTSD

By David Lane Williams

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This month, I thought I’d write about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) as it applies to first responders. I went back and forth about taking on such a serious topic, but my job in this column is to help you comprehend people like me so you can better understand the characters you’re creating. I just took a few deep breaths, and my head is right. Let’s dive in.  

I’ve been streaming The Pitt, a series set in a woefully short-staffed, often hostile, and always overcrowded emergency room in Pittsburgh. Each season tells the story of a single shift in a place where tragedies and miracles happen every hour, and the medical staff is composed of naïve rookies and burning-out veterans. It is a glorious series that has been in my head since the first episode.  

Other than taking a few unnecessary potshots at cops, it felt so real and accurate for me. It took me back to the glory and gore, the terror and elation in those early days working in Austin when AIDS didn’t even have a name yet, and gang violence swamped swaths of the city.

Our “Pitt” was Brackenridge Trauma Center—Brack—and this show hit those old vibes with an accuracy I’ve rarely seen in medical dramas. I experienced adrenaline dumps at some points, heartache at others. I became choked up during some scenes, glad to be alone with just my dogs and all those memories. One of the characters made a comment about crying: “Tears are just grief leaving the body.”

Amen. 

I don’t know a single police officer, paramedic, or firefighter who doesn’t have some emotional scarring after a few years on the job. Like a combat veteran, the carnage and cruelty can get to you after a while. Multiply that times a twenty, thirty, or longer-year career, and there is little to no chance of escaping without some damage. If you’re going to write about veteran first responders, you have to understand that this is part of the story. It doesn’t have to be front and center all the time, but your cop protagonist has a demon inside his brain, and the demon is always whispering. 

The trick is to learn coping skills, the earlier the better. It can be a nightmare if you don’t. Depression, anxiety, and suicide are all facets of the equation. Careers and marriages are cut short, and officers who had always performed rock-solid in the past make rash, bad decisions. 

I’ve always considered myself lucky. My symptoms include some mild anxiety when in public. People close to me notice that I look over my shoulder as I walk through a parking lot and scan the tops and higher windows of buildings. If I sleep on my back, I have nightmares of being attacked or of drowning, so I always place a pillow on either side of me in bed to stop from rolling supine in the middle of the night. I probably check door locks more than necessary, and I use cameras and motion-sensor lights around the perimeter of my house. 

Despite this, I still consider myself an optimist. While I harbor concerns about some humans, I remain hopeful for humanity. I believe our evolutionary path is leading inevitably toward a new species I like to call Homo Pacificus— Peaceful Man. I’m realistic we’re not there yet, but I believe our descendants will make us proud—even as they wonder how the hell we survived one another. 

I know cops who take a pistol with them into the bathroom and shower. They eat family dinners with one strapped to their ankle, and they get almost frantic if their wife forgets the family rule about always being on his off-hand side as they walk in public. They tend not to associate with others outside their police family because they have serious trust issues. 

Part of this trauma is related to specific cases. Perhaps the nightmares come from the images of destroyed children or a body charred in a house fire. Maybe the pain lingers from seeing a teenage girl ripped in two from a car wreck or a mother who committed suicide during a post-partum depression crisis. Maybe it’s from having to tell one too many parents that their child is never coming home again.

Irrational fear and anger can come from too many people treating the officer like the enemy or Satan for doing their job. Imagine starting a career with ambition and a passion to help, only to find you are not trusted or appreciated, and often despised. 

Then, of course, there are the life-shaking moments when someone tries to shoot you or gets the better of you in a deadly street fight. Winston Churchill is quoted as saying, “Nothing in life is so exhilarating as to be shot at without results.” 

He’s right. It’s thrilling to survive a close brush with death, but weeks, months, or years later, the thrill is gone, replaced with jagged nerves and trembling hands. It’s trauma, and it’s real, and it’s prevalent. 

So, how do first responders cope? Some, too many, crawl into a bottle or seek relief through opioids. Others live at the gym, where every rep of every set is a struggle just to keep the demon exhausted, so sleep will finally come. Some take the stress out on their spouses and kids, and others become hermits except when they’re on duty. 

Culturally, PTSD is kept at bay with dark humor. People who have died violently—especially those who were doing something stupid at the time—can be targets of the most obscene jokes back at the station. Someone who died in a fire is a “crispy critter,” and a motorcycle rider without a helmet is an “organ donor.” The only joke territory considered off limits is children. 

I know how appalling this sounds, but that obsidian-dark humor may be the most reliable and effective means of keeping more cops from hurting themselves and others. If you’re writing about a first responder, bleak humor has to be part of the package. Humor bonds first responders, and sarcasm can keep them sane.

As I mentioned, I’m one of the lucky ones. I have a knack for putting bad thoughts in a file cabinet and closing the drawer. As I write this, I know that comes off as denial. I think of myself, however, as an empathetic human being who wants everyone to be safe and feel safe. That can’t always happen, so my ability to put sad or tragic thoughts away for a while has been beneficial. I know there are therapists and care providers out there who just groaned. I’m aware that shutting haunting thoughts deep into the recesses of my mind might not be the best long-term practice, yet I could also argue it has worked well in my life for four decades. 

I used to carry a little bottle of soap bubbles in my duty jump bag. The kind kids blow at birthday parties. Sometimes I’d pull into a secluded area such as a park or an empty drive-in theater when all the filmgoers had gone home. I would then stand outside my car and blow bubbles, watching them rise and fade in the dark. This practice had a way of taking the edge off whatever stress I’d been fighting. Four, five, maybe six bubble blows later, I’d be ready for whatever the Dispatch Center sent me on next. I never shared this with my colleagues—no one needs a nickname like “Bubbles” in a police squad room—but it was a coping mechanism that worked for me. 

I continue to be proactive in retirement. I exercise six to seven days a week, and I only hang around with people who are healthy, balanced, and humorous. Writing is about the best medicine for me. I don’t self-medicate with opioids, and I am not much of a drinker. I have a wife who cares about me, checks in, and listens. My veteran sons understand me about as well as anyone could, and I am surrounded by family and friends who I know will always be by my side. 

I believe PTSD is like sludgy sewage that has been dumped into a river. It is awful and destructive, but given time, coupled with being around good people and action designed to mitigate the pollutants, the river can clear the toxins. 

Your protagonist has PTSD in some form—why do you think there are so many alcoholic private detectives out there in noir land? I am convinced that writers who keep this in mind create deeper and far more interesting characters. 

And just in case you were thinking about having your guy blow bubbles, I’ve already called dibs on that one.  

Onward.

FIVE KEYS TO CREATING BELIEVABLE VILLAINS

By Venita Bonds

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My elderly aunt never speaks ill of anyone. When I joked that she could find something nice to say about the devil himself, she said, “Well, he does have a good work ethic.” 

Few people are 100% evil—and this includes bad guys. Mystery writer DP Lyle says, “Everyone is the hero of their own story.” While it’s tempting to make your villain bad to the bone, you have to make him “human” enough to be believable. Villains need at least one fault, frailty, or soft spot that makes them vulnerable. 

Key 1: Humanity and Vulnerability

Think of Boyd Crowder in Justified. He’s a bad guy we hate to love, but we love him, anyway. Why? Because he’s charismatic, intelligent, eloquent, and funny. He’s also untrustworthy and prideful. His human flaws make him vulnerable and often self-destructive.

The cannibalistic Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs is impossible to love, but his brilliant intellect and odd sense of decorum make him believable in a terrifying way. FBI Agents Crawford and Starling think his only weakness is his huge ego, which makes him vulnerable to their attempts to use him to track down a killer. We’ve all known people with the human qualities of pride, ego, and intelligence. Hopefully, they’re not hungry.

Keys 2 and 3: Justification and Backstory

Humans believe we have the right to act as we do. We try to justify our actions, no matter how heinous. Villains are no different. They often use their backstory to justify their deeds. Something in their past explains their rotten behavior—at least in their own mind. 

One caution: Think of backstory as salt sprinkled into the mix with a lean hand. While backstory is a necessary ingredient for you to understand your villains and what motivates them, feed it to your readers only a grain at a time, and never in your beginning pages. 

Your villains do not have to be killers to need backstory and justification. They can be anyone who exerts power: lawyers, preachers, politicians, medical personnel, or company CEOs. 

Alabama native Richard Scrushy drove a cement mixer for a living. In his rags-to-riches backstory, he went from hauling cement to becoming the CEO of a multibillion-dollar corporation. Possessing an ego the size of his bank account, he ruled his executives through threats and intimidation. When the Department of Justice indicted him on 85 counts of conspiracy, money laundering, and securities fraud, the company’s stocks crashed. Scrushy justified his actions as those of a philanthropic visionary whose only sin was trusting his accountants.  

Florida prostitute Aileen Wuornos murdered seven johns. Her backstory? Sexual abuse from childhood. During her trial, she highlighted her past to make jurors see her in a sympathetic light. Her justification for murder was that all men were a threat to life and limb. She claimed she acted in “self-defense like any human would do.” She made herself believable enough to garner a fan club. 

Key 4: Body Language

The human body speaks louder than words. We can control what we say and might even pass a lie detector test, but our body language can be a dead giveaway. Even the most duplicitous villain reveals the truth through “tells” that leak out of his movements and mannerisms. To create believable villains, let their bodies do the talking.

Example: 

Her left eyelid twitched. Poker players know that micro movements can reveal a person’s thoughts. I was a lousy poker player, but I’d known Elsa Bea all my life. I saw her tell.

Another example: 

She locked onto my eyes without blinking. Liars do that when they want you to believe they’re telling the truth. Unfortunately, she was bouncing her left leg as though keeping time to a drumbeat. Legs don’t lie. 

Key 5: Secondary Characters

Use your secondary characters to increase your villain’s believability. Like my elderly aunt, secondary characters can provide backstory and justification for a villain. In this scene, a housekeeper is defending a doctor suspected of poisoning elderly women. 

“His primary practice is anti-aging— hormones and hydrogen peroxide infusions,” Geraldine said. 

“Is that what he’s giving Mother?” 

She shrugged. “All I know is that it’s made from plants, so it’s all natural.”

“Poison ivy’s all natural. Rattlesnake venom’s all natural.”

“He’s not poisoning her!” 

“How do you know?”

She threw up her hands in exasperation. “He went to Cambridge. Would the Ochsner Clinic employ him if he weren’t an excellent physician?”

Turn the Key

The most important key to creating believable villains is you. The greater your understanding of human behavior and communication, the more realistic your bad guys will be. Just don’t turn your back on one.  

Suggested Reading and Viewing 

Books

Six-Minute X-Ray: Rapid Behavior Profiling by Chase Hughes 

How To Analyze People: How To Read Anyone Like A Book by Madison Taylor

Confidential: Uncover Your Competitors’ Top Business Secrets Legally and Quickly—and Protect Your Own by John Nolan

Websites and Videos

Thebehaviorpanel.com features educational videos on behavioral analysis, communication and elicitation, deception detection, and interrogation. Participants are: 

Mark Bowden: truthplane.com

Chase Hughes: chasehughes.com
www.youtube.com/@chasehughesofficial 

Greg Hartley:  greghartley.com

Scott Rouse:  scottrouse.com

Scott & Greg:  bodylanguagetactics.com

Television and Movies

“Invisible Monsters: Serial Killers in America” (2021 Miniseries) 

The Serial Killers of “Invisible Monsters” | A&E (aetv.com)

“Monster” (2003 movie about Aileen Wuornos starring Charlize Theron)

“American Greed” (TV documentary series for students of human nature and behavior)

“Catch Me If You Can” (2002 movie about a con man)

Weston Smith’s HealthSouth video on the largest health care fraud in US history:  
https://youtu.be/rjgLRRoc_JU?si=FrfYJsN8WRHDd__2

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Venita Bonds is a retired RN with a background in intensive care and psychiatric nursing. She taught adult writing courses and worked for a defense contractor training human intelligence assets for deployment. The author of four historical novels, she now writes Southern Gothic mysteries and short stories. She was a Killer Nashville 2025 Claymore Award winner. She can be found at www.venitabonds.com.