Of the hundreds of literary festival events and book store gigs I’ve done to promote my psychological thrillers over the years, one element is consistently my favourite: the audience Q&A. Not least because I enjoy creating a mental leader board of the questions that come up.
‘What’s your process?’ is by far the most common, sometimes phrased as ‘How do you set about constructing your thrillers?’
Disappointingly, my answer is not neat and tidy (especially when I have only a minute or two to respond). The reality is there is not one approach, one method, that I re-use time and again. In fact, the only universal element is the messiness, that sense of launching into something without having fully worked out what it’s going to be. I like leaving space (lots of space) for subplots to fill. Anything goes so long as I have that instinct that it’s going to be good.
I might start with the scene that will be the opener or I might plunge in midway. I might be committed to the past tense, only for it to dawn on me that the present will have greater power. Yes, I will always know the central crime before I start, but more often than not I won’t know who my victim is or whether I’m going to let the perpetrator get away with it. I might have a cool narrative twist in mind but not sense until deep into the process where it is best placed or how many supporting reveals are needed to give the headliner its rightful significance. I may set out with the loose intention of a single linear narrative with one narrator and find that the material in fact warrants three strands with multiple narrators. Flashbacks or flashforwards might work after all, or all those media elements I swore I wasn’t going to include this time.
I deeply admire those authors who have thriller writing down to an exact science, a tried and trusted formula, but I don’t, and if you don’t either then don’t panic. This is what creativity is. Every new book is a reinvention of your wheel (or wringer), a chance to rediscover that rookie energy. I’m currently writing my nineteenth and all I can confidently say is that it’s evolving in its own sweet way and I plan to hold my nerve until that evolution is complete. It may take three drafts or it may take thirteen, but I know I will deliver.
I also know that next time I’ll want to do it completely differently.
