Is your writing stuck in descriptive inertia? Are you bogged down with world-building and struggling to get to the heart of the story? Are you struggling to balance the action with emotion and pacing to propel your characters into the conflict that helps them overcome the problem of the world?
These are common problems for authors, and we can all take a page or three from great thrillers to help fuel the adrenaline our prose may need.
This article explores the craft of control, examining how thriller writers keep their readers on the edge of their seats and turning those pages!
Ready? Let’s get started.
How popular is the thriller genre?
According to Amazon, the mystery/thriller genre generates $728 million each year, affirming its place as the second most popular book genre, second only to contemporary romance.
Thriller appeals to the “bingers” among us—those of us who can sit through an entire TV series in a single sitting. Many thriller lovers devour a thriller novel in a single sitting because they adore the page-turning hooks. We’ll explore those later in this article.
However:
In 2025, the biggest trends in thriller were:
- Domestic Noir: stories set in ordinary locations, such as homes or workplaces, with sinister twists (aka The Housemaid Effect, after Freida McFadden’s bestselling psychological thriller).
- Fictionalized True Crime: stories from fictionalized serial killer perspectives. For example, Silence of the Lambs’ alleged Ed Gein influence.
What defines a thriller story?
The thriller genre thrives on dramatic irony, moral ambiguity, and psychological tension. It’s often not so much “whodunnit” as “will they get away with it?”
Let’s break that down a little:
Dramatic irony
This is a literary device where the reader or audience knows more than the characters in the story, which helps build suspense, tension, and even humor. Alternatively, it could be that the characters know more than the reader.
Essentially, dramatic irony is about the disparity of knowledge: what we know vs. what the characters know.
Another way to think about it is, consider how an action or statement reads differently depending on what the reader knows. So, something that might seem innocent to the blind observer alters in meaning to a reader armed with more or less information.
Is dramatic irony the same as subtext?
While there are similarities between dramatic irony and subtext, they’re not the same thing.
Dramatic irony, as described above, is an author’s plot device in which the reader knows something the character doesn’t.
Whereas, subtext is the disparity between a character’s words and actions, and it’s typically implied rather than explicitly stated. They might say they want one thing, but their actions suggest they want something else.
How dramatic irony is gold for a thriller writer
Part of the joy of writing plot-led stories is having all the information, but deciding when to drip-feed the story’s essential plot points.
This is one of the essential skills for the thriller writer, and a prime example of how we can manipulate the reader’s emotional journey through the book.
How thriller writers employ moral ambiguity
Many thriller writers create characters with complex motivations and force them to make difficult decisions, often blurring the line between right and wrong, and sometimes even operating outside conventional morality.
Let’s be realistic. Characters that make easy decisions can grow a little dull and part of the fun of writing a tightly wound thriller is putting your characters through the wire to achieve their objectives.
For example, in Portrait of a Thief by Grace Li, the five principal characters are hired to steal looted artworks from super-secure, world-famous museums. While motivated by a huge, life-changing reward, they really want to attack the tyranny of historical colonialism and address the cultural crimes of the past. So, while you could argue that stealing is a crime, they’re only stealing back what was once stolen.
The motivation is both complex and interesting. And Li makes the objective of stealing the artworks even more challenging by safeguarding them behind sophisticated security systems.
How thriller writers use psychological tension to increase the ante
Psychological tension threatens a character’s well-being when their social and moral values are at risk. You could say that this is the heart of a great thriller—forcing a character into challenging and suspenseful situations to see how they respond and how they use their wit and intelligence to overcome the obstacles.
Thrillers that get right into the character’s head can be extremely compelling, especially when they explore difficult decisions that potentially go against the character’s moral values. I Am Not A Serial Killer by Dan Wells is a masterclass in psychological tension: John Wayne Cleaver is a teenager obsessed with serial killers, and there’s a deadly threat in town. Can he face the conflict without giving into his dark nature? Will he become a killer himself?
Know a character’s objective to understand who they are
I have the most fun as a writer when I understand precisely what my character wants and why, which allows me to place increasingly challenging obstacles in their way to defeat.
Writers also use cliffhangers and plot twists to wrongfoot the reader, sometimes challenging their understanding of what’s real, and using unreliable narrators or isolated characters to manipulate their emotions.
Withholding information to manipulate the reader’s perspective
Sometimes, thriller authors purposely limit what they allow the reader to know, helping build suspense while deepening the mystery. You can drop hints, foreshadowing seemingly insignificant plot details that pay off later in the story.
An unreliable narrator is a powerful way for an author to manipulate the reader’s emotions.
Gone Girl
[SPOILER ALERT!]
A great example of a thriller with unreliable narrators is Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl, which creates suspense by offering two contrasting perspectives: Nick’s present-day narrative and Amy’s diary entries that turn out to be entirely fabricated.
Flynn uses dual unreliability to manipulate the reader, constantly blurring the story’s morality and leaving the reader questioning which of the narrators to believe.
Nick lies and hides information from the reader, while Amy is a manipulator who deceives the reader with fake reports that frame her husband for her disappearance.
The five principal rules for thriller writing
Hopefully, you’re thinking of writing a thriller yourself. So, here are five essential rules to consider:
1. Confinement and claustrophobia
Thrillers feel more tense when they unfold in tight spaces. And while complete thriller novels are typically more cinematic than single-location stories, the big, tense sequences often unfold in confined spaces, like a locked house or a remote location, far from anyone who might help.
One of my favorite examples of a claustrophobic thriller is the 1966 play Wait Until Dark by playwright Frederick Knott. The action unravels in a Greenwich Village apartment, where the blind protagonist, Suzy Hendrix, is terrorized by drug mules searching for a doll stuffed full of heroin. The final act is played in complete darkness, and it turns Suzy’s blindness into an advantage, stating, “I know the dark better than anyone.”
Chilling!
When crafting your next page-turning thriller, consider building tension by choosing a location that presents obstacles to the protagonist’s objectives.
2. Reversals and power shifts
Great thrillers thrive on power shifts and reversals. Are the characters bluffing? Who truly holds the power? Is one of the characters about to snap?
In Ira Levin’s thriller masterpiece, This Perfect Day, the protagonist, Chip, senses something is wrong with his utopian existence. He lives in a world controlled by a central computer, UniComp, and everyone lives a peaceful life, fulfilling predetermined societal expectations. But Chips feels in his bones that he’s not free, and unlike the rest of the population, he feels like a slave to UniComp. So, he sets out to find the truth, and along the way, recognizes that the world he knows is not controlled in the manner he expects.
Another excellent example of power shifting in a thriller is Misery by Stephen King, where super-fan Annie Wilkes assumes total control over her idol, novelist Paul Sheldon. What starts as an act of devotion takes a dark twist when Annie discovers that Sheldon is killing off her favorite character, Misery Chastain, from his novel series. Annie’s obsession grows increasingly disturbing and violent as she forces Sheldon to rewrite the novel to prevent Misery from meeting her literary end.
3. Psychological depth
Great thrillers are about pressuring complex characters to pursue challenging objectives. The plot arises from the character’s attempts to overcome the problem at the start of the story, so be clear—if appropriate—how the character feels about their pursuit.
You can find a great example of psychological complexity in Lucy Prebble’s 2012 stage play The Effect. Two medical research participants, Connie and Tristan, meet while trialing an experimental antidepressant within the confines of a research center. They fall in love but are unsure whether their intense emotions are rooted in the excitement of finding someone new or whether it’s an effect of the drug.
[SPOILER ALERT]
So, what should be a moment of celebration becomes one of deep psychological turmoil, especially when Connie discovers that Tristan is taking a placebo.
Connie doesn’t know whether she’s really in love or whether it’s the drug’s effect, while knowing that Tristan is in love with her. This makes it all the more complicated if she isn’t really in love with him.
4. Atmosphere
Great thrillers build the atmosphere sensually. These moments help build a sense of dread in the reader. We’re talking about sensory imagery here—how something smells, tastes, sounds, or feels. It can help bring the words alive.
Maybe the writer conjures an atmosphere in which a creaking door or a footstep builds the tension. Perhaps there’s an odd smell in a room. Or a character pauses too long before they speak.
Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn is a dark, claustrophobic tale centered on a journalist, Camille, who returns to her hometown to investigate murders but is haunted by the ghosts of her past and the town’s dark secrets. The dreary, dilapidated state of her hometown provides an excellent, atmospheric environment to mirror Camille’s trauma.
5. Imagery
Sensory imagery includes:
- Visual: engaging a character’s sense of sight. In Before Her Eyes by Jack Jordan, a blind woman is the only person to witness a murder, so we see the world through her experience and limited vision.
- Gustatory: involving a character’s sense of taste. Aftertaste, by Daria Lavelle, connects the living with the dead through taste, weaving the worlds together in mysterious ways.
- Tactile: exploring the sense of touch and what a character physically feels, including textures and changes in temperature. The Invention of More! by Adolfo Bioy Casares explores the narrator’s attempts to understand reality through his tactile experience of the world around him.
- Olfactory: engaging a person’s sense of smell. Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Süskind centers on the protagonist Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, who has an extraordinary sense of smell that leads him to murder to capture scents.
- Kinaesthetic: employs the sensation of movement—rushing water, pounding hearts, flapping wings, for example.
So, make your reader feel the tension. Consider ways to make your audience squirm as your character’s journey unfolds.
How to structure a thriller
It’s common to follow the three-act structure for great, heart-pounding thrillers that never let go. Here’s a brief outline of how to structure the unfolding of your story.
Act 1: Establish the stakes, atmosphere, and the journey
Every great thriller begins with a disturbance in the force—something about the world isn’t quite right.
So:
1. Start with discomfort
Open the story at a moment of unease. Perhaps your character hesitates before entering a room, or a line of dialogue somehow stops them in their tracks. Maybe an object feels wrong.
2. Define the world
Avoid spending the first twenty pages telling us about the world if you can. Instead, intrigue your reader with a fully formed world where the characters already know the rules. Introduce the rules as the character tackles them.
In George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four, we discover Winston’s oppressive world as he faces the obstacles it presents. Orwell avoids over-explaining, establishing the world’s boundaries through the conflicts that Winston finds himself in.
3. Seed the threat
Feed us the threat from the opening pages. The threat might not be a murderer on the loose. It could be a secret, or a visitor, or a sound. In fact, in great thrillers, the danger is often emotional instead of physical.
Act 2: The escalation
The thriller earns its name in the rising action of Act 2, where the tension intensifies, but not necessarily in a straight line.
4. Build scenes around dramatic questions
A dramatic question implies action: one character must do something to another to achieve an objective.
Make sure each scene or chapter focuses on the protagonist wanting something and struggling to achieve it.
Place obstacles in the way and build scenes around questions the protagonist needs to answer: Did they really see what they thought they saw? Why won’t they answer their phone, for example?
5. Shift the power and use reversals
As mentioned earlier, explore shifting dynamics in Act 2. A character who fails to achieve an objective complicates the plot, perhaps reversing the story’s trajectory.
6. The power of silence
A dramatic silence is naturally tense. Perhaps a character demands to know the truth, but the writer might not be ready to share the truth with the reader—maybe they want to keep them guessing.
Sometimes, a pause rather than a verbal confirmation can be much more interesting. Silence shapes the rhythm of storytelling, and it can be most welcome in a pacy thriller that never stops moving.
Act 3: The “Big Reveal”
This isn’t just the climax of the story. It’s the point where we understand the cost of the reveal.
7. Make the twist feel earned
Sometimes the first part of Act 3 is defined as the “new tension and twist.” It’s where the protagonist has hit their low point at the Act 2 finale, and they finally pick themselves up and dust themselves down, ready for the final fight.
A good twist needs to feel inevitable, rather than tagged on. A great twist recontextualizes everything we’ve seen so far.
Go back to the beginning and examine whether the twist in some way satisfies the problem you planted at the opening. If it doesn’t, maybe it’s a twist that feels unearned.
8. Don’t rush the fallout
Now that you’re approaching the ending, it can be tempting to tie things up too conveniently. Great thrillers treat Act 3 as the big confrontation, so don’t rush it. Leave space for emotional reckoning and allow the reader to sit with the consequences.
9. End with an echo
Thrillers don’t always end cleanly. Consider ending the story with an echo of the terror—maybe a repeated line, gesture, or sound—something that feels different in the aftermath.
Resolved, but not necessarily clean.
Relay Publishing loves a thriller writer
If you’ve got what it takes to write the next great thriller, we want to hear from you. We’ve been working with ghostwriters for a decade, building a portfolio of thriller page-turners that hit the best-seller lists.
So, if you’re looking for a thrilling challenge, get in touch. Find out about our latest opportunities.
Thanks for reading.