Big explosions are fun, but they’re not what makes a thriller truly terrifying. The real fear hides in the silence—the still moments when nothing’s happening, yet you know something’s about to. From No Country for Old Men to Saving Grace, Mark Posey explores why quiet scenes hit harder than gunfire—and why the pause before the door opens is the scariest sound of all.
Writing a story without understanding your main character’s arc is like driving cross-country blindfolded — you might arrive somewhere, but odds are it won’t be where you meant to go. Every protagonist travels an emotional and psychological path, changing (or refusing to change) because of the story’s events. When you understand that inner journey — and how it collides with the outer, plot-driven one — every scene gains purpose, every choice deepens meaning, and your rewrite count drops dramatically. Know your hero’s lie, the truth they need to learn, and what the story will throw at them to force that transformation. Everything else flows from there.
Disappearing isn’t about vanishing—it’s about confidence. From Angelina Jolie’s cool-headed makeover in Salt to Natasha Romanoff’s mall-date sleight of hand, the best spies don’t run; they blend. In fiction, that kind of composure is thrilling to watch—and in Fall From Grace, Thomas Billings is about to need every trick in the book.
A “reasonable” villain might seem believable—but it’s also the fastest way to kill tension in your story. The best antagonists aren’t fair opponents; they’re towering, terrifying forces that make the hero dig deep and evolve. From Goliath to the Borg, it’s the impossible odds that make victory unforgettable.
Back in the trenches: I’ve started writing Fall From Grace, Book 2 in the Thomas Billings thrillers. Thomas and Grace head to London for an audience with the Queen—then get yanked into Establishment crosshairs. Expect chases, betrayals, and the kind of moral gray that leaves even “good guys” guessing.
Conflict is the heartbeat of fiction—but not all conflict is created equal. External conflict drives your plot forward, while internal conflict drives your character’s growth. When you make those two forces feed each other, your story hits harder and lingers longer.
Mark reflects on the strange physics of author life—writing about the Hazeldean Artisan Market before it happens, even though you’re reading about it after the fact. Between the smell of coffee, glitter-covered tables, and fellow creatives, he celebrates the timeless joy of connecting with readers and fellow artisans (and maybe bending the space-time continuum just a little).
A novel isn’t a pile of words—it’s a chain of well-built scenes. This post breaks down the five parts of a powerful scene (from Inciting Incident to Resolution) and why scene craft is the difference between a draft and a publishable book.
Mark Posey shares the five thrillers that rewired his brain — from First Blood to Cujo, these are the books that taught him how to build tension, twist morality, and keep readers one heartbeat away from panic.
Great fiction doesn’t come from easy wins—it comes from impossible choices. When your protagonist is forced to pick between two equally awful options, the story stops being about “victory” and starts being about what they’re willing to lose. That’s when stakes rise, true character is revealed, and readers stay glued to the page.
