
KN Magazine: Articles
What is A Thriller?
In this post, we explore the defining characteristics of a thriller, particularly psychological thrillers. From creating suspense and high stakes to delving into mind games and unreliable narrators, this genre keeps readers on the edge of their seats.
By Carol Willis
After I took the plunge and quit my job as a pathologist to write full time, the first novel I ever completed for adults was a psychological thriller. It is a genre near and dear to my heart. I love reading them, and love writing them even more. What is a psychological thriller? And what makes them so compelling?
Let’s dig in.
Thriller is a genre of literature defined by the primary mood of dread and suspense. They aim to make readers unsettled, nervous, and eager to read what happens next. All fiction should elicit some amount of stress in the reader in the form of tension and conflict, but in a thriller novel, the stress is the main feature. They often feel cinematic and involve high stakes and dramatic plot points.
In short, if it “thrills,” it is a thriller.
In the introduction to Thriller, a major anthology published in June 2006, James Patterson says:
Thrillers provide such a rich literary feast. There are all kinds. The legal thriller, political, spy, action-adventure, medical, military, police, romantic, historical, religious, high-tech. The list goes on and on, with new variations constantly being invented. In fact, this openness to expansion is one of the genre's most enduring characteristics. But what gives the variety of thrillers a common ground is the intensity of emotions they create, particularly those of apprehension and exhilaration, of excitement and breathlessness, all designed to generate that all-important thrill.
In other words, if a thriller doesn't thrill, it's not doing its job.
Thriller is a hybrid of mystery and horror, sharing a literary lineage with the epic and myth. Monsters, terror, and peril prevail. They are dark suspenseful plot-driven stories.
In his excellent 2019 article for Writer’s Digest entitled, “The Differences Between a Crime, Mystery, and Thriller Novel” David Corbett again emphasizes the emotion: Of the three major suspense genres, thrillers are typically the most emotional, focusing on the fear, doubt, and dread of the hero as she faces some form of what Dean Koontz has deemed “terrible trouble.”
There are many elements to thrillers that overlap with other novels of mystery and suspense but typically with an exaggerated atmosphere of menace and sudden violence, such as crime and often murder. A devastating crime is about to be committed or has been committed with the threat of another one looming. The villain is known, but his guilt is not certain—or the hero cannot accept the truth of his guilt. Uncertainty and doubt enhance the suspense.
The tension usually arises when the main character(s) is placed in a dangerous situation, and we spend the rest of the novel waiting to see if they’ll escape. Themes typically emphasize the dangerous world we live in, the vulnerability of the average person, and the inherent threat of the unknown.
Thrillers can take place in exotic settings—think geopolitical and many spy thrillers—but most take place in ordinary suburbs and cities. The main character, the hero, is usually tough and resourceful, but essentially an ordinary person who is pitted against a villain determined to destroy them, their country, or the stability of society.
Suspense is how an author builds tension throughout the story. It’s necessary in any genre, but it’s absolutely vital in thrillers. Ultimately, your goal for the reader is that they never want to put the book down. Each chapter ends with a cliffhanger, urgent question, or significant plot twist. And the plot must have high stakes. The characters must have a lot on the line—it needs to really matter they succeed.
In a thriller, the plot should be driven by one big, important question. Think Chris Whitaker’s All the Colors from the Dark. The story begins when Patch is abducted when he is a young boy and held captive in a darkened room along with another young girl, Grace. Patch eventually escapes but spends the rest of his life searching for Grace. It is a complex, multilayered mystery involving missing persons, child kidnapping, and a serial killer weaving several plots lines, each with their own twist, but it is Patch’s quest that becomes the central question that drives much of the suspense throughout the novel. Who was Grace and what happened to her?
While action does not need to be non-stop, suspense and intrigue need to be constant. There must be a sense of urgency to keep you turning the page.
This basic story structure emphasizes the importance of reader expectations: There is a distinct hero and a villain. The attack on the hero is relentless with escalating terror and dread. The hero must be vulnerable—not just physically but psychologically.
So, what is a psychological thriller and what makes them different from other types of thrillers?
The biggest questions revolve around the minds and behavior of the main characters. Common elements in include plot twists, psychology, obsession, and mind games. They incorporate elements of mystery and include themes of crime, morality, mental illness, substance abuse, multiple realities, and unreliable narrators.
A psychological thriller finds the terror in madness and paranoia. Here the threat is diabolical but more contained, even intimate—usually targeting the protagonist and/or his family—and the hero is often relatively ordinary.
It is the upending of our prosaic circumstances that disconcert us the most. This is why many psychological thrillers are domestic dramas set in the home, threatening our most cherished relationships such as husband and wife, mother and daughter, or sister and sister. The protagonist (and the reader) come to think if we are not safe in our own home, we must not be safe anywhere.
Psychological thrillers generally, but not always, stay away from elements of fantasy or science fiction, focusing on events that could take place in real life. However, with advances in medical science and robotics, and the rise of AI, this is changing. Near-future psychological thrillers involving clones or robots gone awry can be eerily convincing.
In summary, like all good stories, it comes down to setting and character with a problem. The reader must care about what happens next. Psychological thrillers are highly emotional and revolve around the minds and behavior of the main characters. Common elements in include plot twists, mind games, and unreliable narrators to create an atmosphere of menace with looming threats. They are suspenseful and filled with fear and dread to keep readers turning the page.
In the next series of essays, I will discuss five specific elements we see in a psychological thriller.
Carol Willis (she/her) received her MFA in Writing (fiction) from Vermont College of Fine Arts. After receiving her medical doctorate from Texas A&M and an MBA in healthcare from George Washington University, she practiced child health and pathology before moving to Central Virginia. She is the author of a psychological thriller set in Chicago, a dark domestic drama exploring marriage, career, and identity. Her short stories have been published in multiple online journals and anthologies including Valparaiso Fiction Review, Inlandia: A Literary Journey, Living Crue Magazine, Crime in Old Dominion and others.
The Myth of the Five Senses
Should writers really cram all five senses into every page? In this sharp rebuttal to bad writing advice, bestselling author Lois Winston breaks down why less is often more when it comes to sensory detail. Learn how to use the senses effectively—and avoid killing your story’s pacing.
By Lois Winston
The other day, I read a statement that blew my mind—and not in a good way. Someone had written, “Some writing coaches advise that each page should include a reference to the five senses: see, hear, touch, smell, and taste.”
No! No! No! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!
The Internet is filled with bogus information and/or people who claim to be experts in fields where they have no expertise. I don’t know where this person got her information, but it’s certainly not from a credible source.
Writing Rule Number One
All dialogue and narrative in a novel must do one of two things: either advance the plot or tell the reader something she needs to know at that moment about the point of view character. If it does neither, it’s filler and doesn’t belong in your novel.
Writing Rule Number Two
Only describe that which is pertinent to the scene and/or character. If it’s not pertinent, it’s filler.
Writing Rule Number Three
Filler is bad! Always. No exceptions. It kills your pacing and bores the reader.
The five senses can either be a writer’s best friend or worst enemy. When used judicially, they can grab readers and pluck them down in the middle of the book’s action. When overdone, they make readers’ eyes glaze over. And any writer who makes a point of cramming the five senses onto each page, will not only have her readers’ eyes glazing over, but she’ll have them tossing the book across the room.
5 senses x 300-400 pages = 1500-2000 reasons to stop reading (and probably never pick up another book by that author.)
So, when should you insert the five senses? Refer to Writing Rule Number Two. Need some examples? Keep reading.
Your character is a New York City commuter, standing on the platform of the #7 subway during a hazy, hot, and humid typical August in the city. She doesn’t notice the trash spilling from the garbage cans or the graffiti-covered walls. She’s become inured to the heat and the stench. Not that they don’t bother her, but she’s too used to them to take note.
As a former commuter, I can tell you the best way to cope with the subway in summer is not set foot in it, but if you must, you learn to close your mind (and your nose) to your surroundings. Which is what our fictional character would do.
Instead of focusing on the heat and stench and how uncomfortable she is, our stalwart protagonist is most likely scrolling through her Instagram or TikTok feed as she awaits the train. She’d only take note of the sights, sounds, and smells if there’s a good reason for her to do so. I could offer examples, but I’ll spare you the gory details because some of you may be reading this while eating lunch.
Now imagine your character is a twelfth century Scottish nobleman. He wakes up one morning to find himself magically transported to that same subway platform, he’s bombarded with all those sensory images and more. Everything he sees and hears is foreign and frightening to him. The one exception? The stench. Since twelfth century Scots bathed as infrequently as once a year or at most, once a month, most of the offensive odors are normal smells to him. Anything unusual would likely be masked by the smells he’d ignore. In such a scenario, have fun describing every detail of the assault to this very confused poor guy’s senses.
In Stitch, Bake, Die!, the tenth book in my Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery series, Anastasia enters the victim’s kitchen to find the following:
Someone had ransacked the kitchen. Cabinets lay bare, their contents scattered across the floor in a haphazard array of pots, pans, and broken glassware and dishes. Drawers had been yanked out and tossed aside, appliances swept from the counters. Not a single package of food remained on the pantry shelves or in the refrigerator. Whoever had trashed Marlene’s kitchen had taken the time to open boxes, bags, and canisters and dump all the food. Everything from raisin bran to frozen broccoli florets to dried pasta peppered the room. A dusting of flour and sugar lay over everything like newly fallen snow.
Note, I wrote a short paragraph describing only what Anastasia sees. I don’t mention any lingering food smells or the sound of rain beating on the windowpanes. I don’t have her biting down on the inside of her cheek and tasting the coppery tang of blood or feeling her heart pounding in her chest. I don’t have her going weak in the knees and grabbing the door jamb to steady herself. All that is important to this scene is what she sees when she arrives in the kitchen. Given the plot and what happens next, further description would be filler.
The takeaway here? Describe what needs describing, then get on with your story.
USA Today and Amazon bestselling and award-winning author Lois Winston writes mystery, romance, romantic suspense, chick lit, women’s fiction, children’s chapter books, and nonfiction. Kirkus Reviews dubbed her critically acclaimed Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery series, “North Jersey’s more mature answer to Stephanie Plum.” In addition, Lois is a former literary agent and an award-winning craft and needlework designer who often draws much of her source material for both her characters and plots from her experiences in the crafts industry. Her most recent release is Sorry, Knot Sorry, the thirteenth book in her Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery Series. Learn more about Lois and her books at www.loiswinston.com where you can also sign up for her newsletter and follow her on various social media sites.
When Secondary Characters Demand the Spotlight
Secondary characters can take center stage unexpectedly, bringing new layers and depth to a story. This post explores how to develop secondary characters into primary ones and the benefits of giving them the spotlight.
By Martha Reed
When I’m introduced to a new series, it doesn’t matter if the storyline comes via a book, a movie, or TV, and I’m open to any setting. But if the crime fiction or mystery series is going to engage my active monkey brain and continue to hold my interest, it must offer a wide-ranging ensemble cast with plenty of individual and interesting character development. Cardboard cutouts and one-dimensional characters are not for me.
Developing a supporting ensemble cast is a creative balancing act because while it offers a fertile field of fresh and unforeseen possibilities, you don’t want to lose your protagonist in the crowd. You’ll need to invent just the right number of secondary characters to keep your story lively and fresh without confusing the reader.
And while individual crimes and misdemeanors and their solutions structure the plot, character development provides the necessary depth, conflict, drama, background color, and bodies for the suspect list.
The trick is that an inciting or trigger event not only impacts the protagonist and his/her world; collateral fallout cascades through the secondary characters as well, causing countless new conflicts and story sub-arcs. Say, for instance, your beat cop protagonist finally earns her detective’s badge, a cherished career goal. How does her left behind cop ex-partner feel about her promotion? Bruised feelings and damaged egos among secondary characters are 24K nuggets in any writer’s gold mine.
Of course, the protagonist and the antagonist should take centerstage since they’re the focus of the story, but what is an author supposed to do when a secondary character suddenly strides into the limelight demanding equal face time?
This has happened to me twice, and I’d like to share how you can use these events to strengthen your future stories.
In my Nantucket Mystery series, a secondary character CSI Specialist made an unexpectedly snarky remark standing beside a crime scene that was so wryly perfect with dry humor that I realized she was going to steal the focus from the corpse. As I continued drafting the chapter, I wanted to drop the existing narrative and follow her, and that is a fatal type of rabbit hole.
When you run into a strongly vocal secondary character who refuses to behave, don’t throw them out. Take that rampant character energy and move it into an entirely new story.
Use Shapeshifting as a Creative Writing Tool
To keep that CSI Specialist from derailing that established storyline, I softened her punchline and then moved the strength of it and her character into a primary character position using an entirely new setting and series. It worked. Love Power won a Killer Nashville 2021 Silver Falchion Best Attending Author Award as well as being a 2021 Silver Falchion Finalist in the Best Mystery category.
In another shapeshifting instance, a vibrant young UBER driving named Cleo got axed from one of my short stories simply because I needed to trim the word count to fit the submission requirement. After profusely apologizing to my fictional character, I pasted Cleo into a blank Word document and filed her for later use. She has been impatiently waiting for her turn on the boards and now, as I’m drafting my current WIP, I need a strong young new female primary lead. Viola! There she stood, waiting in the wings, already warmed up and ready to go, a gift.
How to develop a secondary character into a primary one
The best tool I’ve discovered is to write out the secondary character’s career and life goals. Every character, even secondary ones are the hero/heroines in their own lives. He/she will have their own aspirations, dreams, ambitions, and struggles, and this is important: their goals may not be in alignment with your protagonist’s main story but adding this level of depth is critical to character development.
For instance, when I life studied one of my secondary characters, a military veteran and career law enforcement officer, I learned that Ted expected to be given the Lieutenant’s position when it unexpectedly fell vacant. When he didn’t get it, Ted soured on the job, so I started sprinkling in quirky quips and sour asides into his normal day-to-day conversation. The bonus is in not explaining the new quips and asides; just as your other characters will start to wonder what’s gotten into Ted, so will your readers, and keeping readers guessing is one of our writerly jobs.
Primary and secondary characters break up over conflicts. Career goal differences or sudden political flare-ups can raise tension to a snapping point. Different responses to an accident or a crime scene can cause rifts in long-standing friendships. Use these events to add increased insight into a secondary character’s life or to the backstory, and it will pique your reader’s interest as well as signal that a shift in a secondary character may potentially move that character into a leading player position.
The payoff is that secondary character development leads to story growth which will hold the interest of your readers.
_______
Martha Reed is a multi-award-winning mystery and crime fiction author. Love Power, her new Crescent City NOLA Mystery featuring Gigi Pascoe, a transgender sleuth won a 2021 Killer Nashville Silver Falchion Best Attending Author Award as well as being a Silver Falchion Finalist in the Mystery category.
Her John and Sarah Jarad Nantucket Mystery series garnered an Independent Publisher (IPPY) Book Award for Mid-Atlantic Best Regional Fiction. Her short story, The Honor Thief was selected for the 2021 Bouchercon anthology, This Time for Sure, edited by Hank Phillippi Ryan
You’re invited to visit her website www.reedmenow.com for more detail.
Twists and Reveals: The Art of Keeping Your Readers Guessing
Twists and reveals are powerful storytelling tools that elevate thrillers, mysteries, and crime fiction. Learn the difference between the two, how to craft them effectively, and how to keep your readers guessing to the very last page.
By Claire Cooper
An interesting plot and intriguing characters are key ingredients to keep readers turning the pages of any work of fiction. But if you’re writing thrillers, crime, mysteries, or suspense, twists and reveals can be the secret sauce that turns a good story into a great one.
The two terms are often used interchangeably, but twists and reveals are quite different things. What are they? How do you construct them? And most importantly of all, what needs to be in place for them to work well?
The difference between twists and reveals
A reveal is just what it sounds like—new information that answers an important question.
It might be the central question of the plot (who’s the killer?). Or it could be a nugget that brings the reader closer to solving the mystery (that dodgy guy who’s been stalking our heroine is her long-lost brother).
A reveal is essential to any whodunnit. Lucy Foley’s The Hunting Party is a classic example—there’s a cast of characters, one of whom is the murderer. The set-up has readers poring over every word, searching for clues to the killer’s identity. When it comes, the reveal is beautifully satisfying.
And while that happens at the end of the story, there are other, smaller reveals along the way. They keep things interesting, provide clues, and allow the reader to form theories about what’s happening.
Like reveals, twists also impart information—but that’s not all. That information turns everything the reader previously thought they knew on its head.
That creates an exciting reading experience. And it also means readers will recommend your book to all their friends, because they’ll be desperate for other people to talk to about it.
Gone Girl is perhaps the most famous example of a twist in a modern psychological thriller. At the start, it reads as a well-written but conventional mystery: a woman has gone missing, her husband is under suspicion. Has he killed her?
But halfway through, we’re presented with new and shocking information. Everything we thought we knew was wrong. And we’re faced with a different set of questions to keep us reading.
Twists appear in classic crime, too. Agatha Christie’s After the Funeral has one of the most brilliantly constructed twists I’ve ever read. No spoilers: if you haven’t read it, put that right ASAP.
What is it that makes some twists and reveals work so well? And what goes wrong when they fall flat?
Writing a great reveal
Both twists and reveals play on the contract between author and reader. Some people refer to this as the “story promise,” the set-up that tells the reader what to expect if they decide to read the book.
Reveals honor that promise. Twists are an unexpected bonus (although the prevalence of twists in modern fiction means they’re not always unexpected—more on that later).
The reveal in The Hunting Party works so well because it offers readers exactly what they wanted when they started reading the book: they find out who the killer is.
Other reveals along the way answer some questions while posing others, keeping the tension high throughout. At the end, everything is resolved—and crucially, it fits together and makes sense.
That logic is essential. Part of the delight of reading a whodunnit is trying to work out the answer for ourselves. With the best books we fail, whilst knowing we could have succeeded, if only we’d spotted all the clues.
When a reveal goes wrong
When reveals fall flat, on the other hand, it’s often because new information comes out of the blue. There’s no way a reader could have worked it out. And there’s no pay-off for our concentration because nothing we’ve read until that point is relevant. We feel cheated.
The same goes for a reveal that feels implausible. While it could happen in real life, it feels too unlikely to be satisfying. It doesn’t fit comfortably with the world as it’s presented in the book.
Classic reveal fails can be guilty of one or both of these sins. Revealing that a character has an identical twin, say, or that a huge chunk of plot has been a dream—both feel like the author isn’t taking us seriously.
Yes, we know that identical twins exist; and yes, people dream. But if we haven’t been given any clues about what’s going on, the author has essentially been wasting our time. And even if the clues have been seeded, it’s hard to feel that the writer hasn’t taken an easy way out.
The key to a successful twist
The same rules apply to a twist. It has to make sense. It has to be plausible. And it has to tie into what’s been presented before.
But with the twist, that final criterion is especially difficult to pull off. As writers, we need to lead our readers in the wrong direction, while still playing fair. Our characters can say things that aren’t true—they can be unreliable narrators. But we ourselves can never lie.
In Gone Girl, the twist is set up by the way we’re persuaded to think about the two main characters. One character reveals they’re lying to the police—they must have something to hide. We hear from the other in a context that makes it seem impossible that they’re lying.
That belief colors our interpretation of everything else. When it’s flipped on its head, we realize all our preconceptions are wrong.
The twist here works at a meta level, too. It changes our whole perception of the kind of book we’re reading. The story promise we thought we were being presented with at the beginning is something else entirely.
That’s a risky approach. But with Gone Girl, it works because it’s so exciting. You thought you were getting something good—but you’re getting something even better.
With Agatha Christie’s After the Funeral, the twist is set up so subtly you don’t notice it’s been done. Not only are we misdirected, we congratulate ourselves for having worked something out for ourselves. What we don’t discover until right at the end is that we got it completely wrong.
And Christie achieves that while only presenting us with the facts of the story. It’s a masterclass in misdirection.
The role of planning in constructing your twist or reveal
I’d argue that planning is essential to constructing both twists and reveals—even if, for pantsers, it only kicks in at the editing stage.
That planning starts with a clear story promise, the question that will be answered by the end of the book. That gives you the substance for your big reveal.
To get there, there’ll be other questions that need to be answered. And those mini-reveals should pose new questions, too.
Also crucial is to decide what to reveal when. A good rule of thumb is to release important information at the last possible moment, only when readers need it to make sense of what happens next. Reveal it too soon, and suspense will leak away.
If you’re including a twist, you need to walk a tightrope. On one hand, your reader needs enough information that the twist will make perfect sense. On the other hand, you need to disguise that information in a way that doesn’t allow your reader to spot what’s coming.
There are lots of different ways you can do that. Here are a few:
Have a character tell the truth, but make them appear so untrustworthy that your reader won’t believe them
Have a character who lies but appears honest
Include red herrings
Slip out crucial facts alongside revelations that appear more important, so your reader focuses on the wrong thing.
Finally, think about where you want your twist to appear. The only rule here is not to have it happen too soon: you need your reader to have developed a clear (and wrong) idea of what they think is happening for it to have real impact.
The role of the twist in book marketing
Once upon a time, a twist was a relatively rare thing. These days, in genres like psychological thrillers, it’s almost expected.
That presents some challenges. If readers suspect a twist is coming, they’ll be on their guard. And some people complain that blurbs mentioning a twist distract them from the story, diverting their attention to trying to spot it.
It’s a fair point. But it’s also true that a great twist can be the thing that gets readers talking about a book. That, of course, means more sales—and what marketing department or indie author can afford to ignore that?
If savvy readers looking out for a twist are wise to the usual tactics, it’s up to us as authors to respond. Either we find ways to execute those tactics so brilliantly that we still bamboozle our readers, or we come up with new tactics altogether.
That’s pretty daunting—but it’s exciting too. I for one can’t wait for the next book with a “mind-blowing twist!”
Claire Cooper grew up in a small village in Wales before moving to London as a student. She was a civil servant for 17 years, but hung up her bowler hat when she discovered that she much preferred writing about psychotic killers to Ministerial speeches. She lives in London with her husband and a pond full of very cute newts, and also writes as C. J. Cooper. Her latest book, "The Elevator" is set in New York, Bristol and London, and includes lots of reveals (and maybe one or two twists!). It was published on August 25th.
Adding Tension, Suspense, & Intrigue to Your Story
Master the art of creating suspense, tension, and intrigue in your fiction with these tips. Learn how to engage readers by building complex characters, withholding information, and using suspenseful techniques that keep them turning the pages.
By James Glass
Are you in the process of writing a novel? Crime or suspense thriller? Or some other popular fiction you hope will grab readers’ attention? Besides a great character and a fascinating plot, you need to keep readers engaged and eagerly turning the pages. ALL genres of fiction, and not just thrillers, need tension and intrigue. That and a certain amount of suspense. But how do you break away from other writers in your genre? You must ratchet up the tension, intrigue, and suspense. Create a fast-paced, nail-biting, page-turner. Okay, but how?
First, create a protagonist your readers will care about, and give him/her some worries and secrets. Make your hero or heroine intriguing and complex, clever, and resourceful. But not perfect. Perfect is too boring and you’ll lose your readers. Make them vulnerable. Whether physical vulnerability or some inner conflict, regrets, and secrets. In most cases, you want your protagonist to be likeable too, or at least possess some endearing traits to make readers worry about and want to root for. If readers can’t identify with or bond with your character, it’s pretty clear your story needs work.
Next, you want to get up close and personal. Use deep point of view (first-person or third-person) to get us into the head and body of your main character right from the opening paragraph. Show their thoughts, fears, hopes, frustrations, worries, and physical and sensory reactions in every scene. Most new writers want to start with opening their story with description, background info, or even flashbacks. Instead, open with action. It’s best to jumpstart your story with your lead interacting with someone else who matters to them, preferably with a bit of discord and tension. And show his/her inner thoughts and emotional reactions, maybe some frustration or anxiety. Give your character a problem to solve right from the start. This creates an early conflict that throws your lead off-balance and will make your readers worry about him/her. A worried reader is an engaged reader. Remember—act first, explain later.
Another way to create suspense is to withhold information. There’s no surprise for the reader if they know everything up front. This is so important and a common weakness for new fiction writers. Hold off on critical information. Give a hint of a traumatic or life-changing event early on. But reveal fragments of info about it little by little, through dialogue, thoughts, and brief flashbacks. This will keep your readers wondering and worrying—keeping your reader engaged as they need to know but have to read further.
Don’t get bogged down in lengthy descriptions, backstory, or exposition. Keep the action and interactions moving ahead, especially in the first chapter. Dialogue is your best friend early on. This isn’t to say dialogue is not needed later on, but new writers tend to overuse narrative description. This usually results in a slower pace and bogs down the action.
Then introduce a significant, meaningful story problem for your protagonist. Now that your readers care about the main character, insert a major challenge, dilemma, goal, or threat within the first ten chapters, a big one that won’t be resolved until the end. The tension will keep the reader engaged throughout the story.
Every page needs some tension, even if it’s just doubt, questioning, disbelief, disagreement, suspicion, or resentment simmering below the surface. Add in tough choices and moral dilemmas. Devise ongoing difficult decisions and inner conflict for your lead character. Besides making your plot more suspenseful, this will also make your protagonist more complex, vulnerable, and intriguing.
Insert several plot twists. Readers are surprised and delighted when the events take a turn they never expected. Don’t let your readers become complacent, thinking it’s easy to figure out the ending, or they may stop reading. To keep the reader engaged, establish a sense of urgency, a tense mood, and generally fast pacing.
Utilize cliff-hangers. Put your hero or heroine in danger at the end of some chapters. This will incite reader curiosity and questions and compel them to go to the next chapter. James Patterson is a master of short chapters with lots of suspense that forces the reader to turn to the next chapter.
I hope you find these tips to be helpful.
James Glass achieved the rank of Command Master Chief before retiring after 22 years in the United States Navy. After retiring from the Navy, he exchanged his rifle for a pen. He and his family moved back to Florida. James is also the President of the Panhandle Writers Group. He’s published five novels, one novella, and two (you solve the crime) chapter books.

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