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Creating Mystery and Suspense in Fiction: an Interview with New York Times Bestselling author Carol Goodman
My first agent had me revise my first novel three times before she would send it out. After eight months of this, she told me that revision was often her authors’ favorite part of the writing process. I thought she must be lying. I hated revision, and I really didn’t know how to do it.
by Writing Workshops Staff
6 hours ago
You lean in a little closer when New York Times Bestselling author Carol Goodman begins to speak. It’s not just the authority that comes from having authored more than two dozen bestselling novels—some of them prizewinning explorations of murky pasts and haunted hearts. Rather, it’s the sense of invitation, as though she’s drawing you in, step by careful step, to the very edge of a secret. For readers who have long been entranced by Goodman’s stories, that hush is a siren call: Come in. Sit down. Let the mystery unfold.
Now, with her forthcoming six-week workshop at WritingWorkshops.com, Goodman is poised to do more than beguile an audience: she’s ready to show aspiring writers how the trick is done. Creating Mystery and Suspense in Fiction is a class that promises an insider’s look at the engine that propels any compelling narrative: the primal, irresistible urge to know what happens next.
With an emphasis on core craft elements—voice, character, setting, dialogue—Goodman’s course offers a structured deep-dive into the art of keeping readers breathless. From the anxieties of an unreliable narrator to the quiet menace of an ominous location, Goodman draws on her experience teaching at The New School and SUNY New Paltz to illuminate the paths by which secrets, lies, and carefully placed red herrings spark page-turning suspense.
Yet if the spirit of the whodunit is what first captivates, Goodman’s workshop also mines the interior landscapes of storytelling: how to map motivations, unravel hidden truths, and guide an audience to that pivotal intersection of shock and satisfaction. Her award-winning oeuvre is testament to the potency of mystery writing across genres, and the course is designed to help writers of all stripes—detective novelists, general fiction authors, and those who simply crave the slow burn of tension-laced prose. After six weeks, students will come away with a sturdy grasp of story structure, a draft of their opening chapter, and the confidence to chase a ghost—or perhaps a murderer—well beyond the final session on Zoom.
The most seasoned suspense authors know that a mystery is never just about the crime or the clues; it’s about the possibility lurking on every page, the breath we hold in anticipation. Carol Goodman has spent a lifetime excavating that charged space. Her invitation is open. If you have a story whispering in your ear—or if you simply want to learn how to orchestrate your own symphony of twists and turns—this workshop just might be the key to unlocking your literary intrigue. Because in Goodman's hands, the journey toward the unknown is not only thrilling—it’s undeniably fun.
Writing Workshops: Your novels often balance the eerie with the relatable. How do you help writers tap into their own experiences and subconscious fears to create that unmistakable sense of unease and suspense?
Carol Goodman: I agree that evoking both an eerie atmosphere and grounding a book in a relatable contemporary narrator come out of being in touch with the subconscious and channeling one’s own fears, concerns, and anxieties. I find that I can most easily tap into my subconscious by feeling free and unburdened by critical thought during the drafting process.
The way I do that is to write my first drafts by hand in a notebook. Because it feels messy and provisional and I know I’m going to have to type it up, I don’t worry about making it perfect. And when critical or doubting thoughts come to mind, I just jot them down on the left side page—and then keep writing. I share this process with my students while explaining that you can approach your first drafts this way even if you don’t want to write them by hand.
Although I do think there’s some benefit to handwriting, I know that’s not going to work for everyone and the important lesson is to let yourself be free in the first draft and find a way to defer the critical, editorial mind until the next draft.
WW: You mention mystery is at the heart of every story, even if it’s not a mystery novel per se. Can you share an example of how a non-mystery genre writer can use the techniques you teach to enhance tension and reader engagement?
CG: One of my favorite novels, and an excellent example of how mystery is employed in a literary novel, is The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro. The reminiscences of an English butler at the end of three decades of service, while taking a country drive, might not scream “mystery and suspense,” but the voice of Stevens as he makes his punctilious plans to solve his staffing problems by visiting the former housekeeper Miss Kenton is so full of obfuscation, errors of memory, and self-justification that we’re forced to parse what really happened in Darlington Hall and why he’s really driving to the West Country to visit Miss Kenton.
The mystery ultimately comes out of the character of Stevens, much as all mystery, I think, ultimately comes out of character. People are a mystery and therein lies the heart of all fiction. By starting with character and identifying the blind spots, prejudices, and illusions that shape us, we can build mystery into any plot.
WW: In a world full of distractions, what strategies do you recommend for crafting a story so propulsive that readers feel compelled to keep turning the page, especially when plotting doesn’t come naturally?
CG: I always start with the things that keep me up at night and that I can’t stop thinking about. Tapping into our obsessions, and the preoccupations that we see around us, is one way of hooking the reader. Knowing how to raise questions in the reader’s mind and what information to give and what to withhold are also effective strategies. In giving feedback and conducting workshop, I always stress asking the writer questions so they can see what their readers are wondering about and how long they’re willing to wait to get the answers.
WW: As a New York Times Bestselling author of 27 novels, you have a remarkable track record with awards and critical acclaim. Yet, you also emphasize a supportive and constructive environment in your workshop. Could you shed light on how you strike that balance between honest critique and the encouragement new writers need?
CG: I consider creating a supportive and constructive workshop environment job one of teaching writing, so I always spend time going over workshop guidelines. I believe in starting with the positive, because it’s just as important for a writer to know what they’re doing right as what they need to work on. I define constructive feedback as something the writer can do something with.
And I emphasize asking questions because, as I say above, the most useful thing a writer can get from sharing their work is to hear what the reader does and doesn’t understand and what questions arise about the characters and plot. I also spend time talking about how to receive criticism (quietly) and process it (give it time) and then how to decide what to do with it.
My rule of thumb is: does the criticism (after a couple days of honest reflection) make you excited to keep writing? Then it was constructive criticism for you. Does it make you want to stop writing? Then it’s not constructive for you, so feel free to let it go and move on.
WW: Many of your books feature deeply atmospheric settings. Why do you consider setting such an essential tool for building suspense, and what exercises in your workshop help students transform location into a living, breathing character?
CG: I do love setting! I’m often drawn to a book because of where it’s set—someplace cold and snowy during the winter, an exotic island when I’m struck by wanderlust, a city street at night when I’m in a noirish mood.
In creating setting, I ask students to think about the places that have formed them, that stick out in their memories, or that they revert to in their daydreams. Then we look at atmospheric setting pieces—that evocation of Manderley at the beginning of Rebecca, Chandler’s Los Angeles beset by Santa Ana winds, an out-of-season Swiss hotel in Anita Brookner’s Hotel du Lac, and many more—and examine how the author has conveyed mood, menace, and mystery through physicality.
And, because I’m a mystery writer, I’m also fond of spotting all the ways to kill someone in a particular location.
WW: You’re known for memorable characters caught in very intense, dangerous circumstances. What do you find most crucial about developing character arcs that keep readers guessing about motives and secrets?
CG: Ultimately, this goes back to what I said above about the mystery at the heart of every character. When I begin a novel, I often start with someone a little bit like myself who’s struggling with a dilemma or issue a little bit like one I’ve been struggling with. I think to myself, “How could this be even worse?” (I know, I’m a bit odd).
Once I’ve placed my character (usually my narrator) in this excruciating situation, I begin to discover who she is (yes, it’s pretty much always a woman) because even if she began as being a bit like me, once she’s on the page, she no longer feels like me.
One of the things I often ask about my narrator at this point is, what is she not being honest about even to herself? This helps develop at least some unreliability that will keep the reader guessing.
I also like to identify her blind spots because if she’s able to read her situation clearly, there’s probably little mystery involved (and I think we all have blind spots that cause us to misread the world around us). I’m interested in characters whose situations are in some part caused by themselves plus a little bad luck.
Finally, I want to know her strengths, because she’s going to need them to get herself out of the mess I’ve placed her in.
These are all questions that I ask my students to think about as they form their characters, especially their protagonists, but also their antagonists and minor characters.
WW: Looking at your Week 6 focus, Revision and Going Forward, how do you guide writers to maintain the spark of their initial mystery concept while refining and reorganizing the story in the editing process?
CG: I tell my students that revision is both the good news and the bad news about writing. It’s good news that what you’ve written does not have to be perfect—or even all that good—the first time around. Bad news because … well because what you’ve written isn’t perfect or maybe even all that good the first time around.
Then I tell them this story: My first agent had me revise my first novel three times before she would send it out. After eight months of this, she told me that revision was often her authors’ favorite part of the writing process. I thought she must be lying. I hated revision and I really didn’t know how to do it.
But now, 27 books later, revision is, if not my favorite, then at least one of my favorite parts of the process. I learned how to do it by working with some very good editors and seeing, over time, that this is when a book could really start to hum and become the best version of itself.
I tell this story so that they will know to expect some rough moments. That spark you mention may indeed waver, but when you suddenly see the story you’ve labored over in a new light, when you understand it in a way you didn’t before, then that spark is electric. And, circling back to your first question, it’s learning to have faith in the revision process that can free you in the drafting process—and that is my favorite part.
Learn more about Carol's upcoming 6-week Zoom class, Creating Mystery and Suspense in Fiction, and sign up now to avoid the waitlist!
Instructor Carol Goodman is the New York Times Bestselling author of twenty-seven novels, including The Lake of Dead Languages, The Seduction of Water, which won the 2003 Hammett Prize, The Widow’s House, which won the 2018 Mary Higgins Clark Award, and The Night Visitors, which won the 2020 Mary Higgins Clark Award. She has twice been nominated for the Dublin IMPAC award and has been a Hawthornden fellow and an Essere Artist-in-Residence. Her books have been translated into over twenty languages. For over twenty years, she has taught creative writing at The New School and SUNY New Paltz. She combines her love of and long experience in reading, writing, and teaching to offer a supportive and constructive framework for writers at every level and stage of the writing process.
