A big thank you to Liz for getting a post for me in time to fill in for Heather Haven, who asked me to find someone to fill her Thursday this month.
Why I write psychological suspense:
During my teen years, my favorite way to spend the weekend involved sitting in the eerie darkness of a movie theater, sharing a bucket of popcorn with friends, waiting to be scared—not by zombies, dinosaurs, or tornados but by the nanny who wasn’t as kind as she appeared, the handsome husband leading a double life, or the woman posing as an author’s biggest fan who will ultimately hold him hostage.
That fear, the feeling of goosebumps sprouting, hair rising on the back of my neck, was such an enthralling sensation, almost like those chilling moments when a roller coaster inches up that steep incline, I couldn’t get enough.
Since the afternoons when my mom read to me as a child, I’d always wanted to write a book. While my first was a memoir, when I turned to fiction, I longed to try to evoke the same tension and anxiety I fell in love with in the fourth grade while reading Lois Duncan’s Ransom and, later, in other novels by authors like Megan Abbott and Patricia Highsmith, and, of course, in those frightening films.
I’ve now written several thrillers and while I’m in the thick of plotting each story, I worry that it won’t come together in the end. (Another source of fear!) That said, I love the way the process can feel akin to putting together a puzzle. You’re working toward a complete picture, your brain turning around the pieces until they lock into place. When they do and you can surprise yourself—and, hopefully, your readers—it’s magical.
Reading and writing thrillers, suspense, and mystery also gives you a healthy sense of wariness. When you’re dialed into the possibility of darkness lurking around every corner, it keeps you on guard. One morning when I was in my twenties and walking through a parking lot, a man approached me and asked if I wanted to see the puppies he had in his van. I almost said, “Are you kidding? I’ve seen Silence of the Lambs three times! There’s no way I’m getting near your van!”
Writers have rich imaginations, which is both a blessing and a curse. I joke that once you start writing thrillers, suspense, or mysteries, that becomes the lens through which you view the world. Last fall, I attended a short writing retreat. Beyond my window lay a field, a dense fog muting the colors of the autumn landscape. My gaze shifted to a pair of dogs sniffing around but always returning to the same patch. Were bodies buried out there? I couldn’t help but muse.
I often wonder if romance writers are similarly afflicted. When they see a couple, do they create an elaborate backstory for them? A meet-cute? A conflict involving a former love interest that leads to a break-up and eventually a happily-ever-after? Is all this imagining an occupational hazard? Either way, it’s often a delightful escape from reality.
Writing thrillers has also been a wonderful way to work through pent up feelings of frustration and even revenge fantasies. Murder a busybody neighbor? No problem. Put snarky dialogue in the mouth of your protagonist as she outwits a villain? Done. Leave all your animosity on the page.
Though I love writing personal essays and humor pieces, suspense is a genre I always return to for the chance to bask in the unsettling appeal of impending doom.
You Shouldn’t Have Done That
Jane Whitaker and Ivy Chapman have been best friends for twenty years – ever since their sons Cal and Brad attended the same preschool.
But their close bond is severely tested when their now adult sons go skiing together in Wyoming and only one returns.
Where is Cal Whitaker and why didn’t Brad Chapman report him missing? With growing fears for Cal’s safety, his family begins to suspect Brad knows a lot more than he’s saying.
Friendship turns to suspicion and then to open hostility when Cal’s sister Emerson posts an online appeal that ignites a vicious crusade against Brad.
As decades-old loyalties crumble, Jane and Ivy find themselves on opposite sides of a deadly divide. How far will each mother go to protect her family? And what happens when saving one son means destroying the other?
Liz Alterman is the author of the memoir, Sad Sacked, the young adult thriller, He’ll Be Waiting, the suspense novels The Perfect Neighborhood, The House on Cold Creek Lane, and You Shouldn’t Have Done That, as well as the forthcoming romcom Claire Casey’s Had Enough. Her work has been published by The New York Times, The Washington Post, McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, and other outlets. Follow her on Instagram or subscribe to her Substack where she shares the ups and downs of the writing life (and cat photos).


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