“I'll be honest with you—I'm tired just thinking about everything I'm supposed to be doing right now. According to the experts, I should be writing my next book, building my email list, posting consistently on social media, running strategic ad campaigns, reading in my genre, attending conferences, analyzing my sales data, and maintaining a regular newsletter. Did I mention I should probably also be, you know, living my life?”

I’m not looking for brilliance in the first sentence. But somewhere in those opening few hundred words, there's a promise being made.

Not a hook. Not just atmosphere. A promise—about what kind of story this will be, what emotional register we're in, and whether I can trust this author to deliver.

When I started writing, I thought ideas were rare. I'd wait for lightning to strike—for that one perfect concept to announce itself. I treated each idea like it might be the only one I'd ever get.

“You don't have to have lived a life worthy of a thriller to write one. You just have to be honest about the emotions you've experienced and brave enough to expand them into something larger, darker, more dangerous than they were in real life."

"So, one of the questions I was thinking about as I started A Noble Sin was, 'what makes someone extraordinary?' As much as we all want it, I'm not sure unconditional love and suckling praise create heroes. In my experience, jaded as it is, it's hardship and pain, and periods of emotional drought that build the roots of a character like Emma."

The event promised encounters with big names, and it delivered. I got to meet John Grisham, James Patterson, Lisa Gardner, and David Baldacci. It was thrilling. (Pun intended.) Each offered insights into how they work and think about storytelling. Their advice was generous, their presence a reminder of what’s possible. But here’s the thing: that wasn’t the part that stuck with me.

We all know the pillars of a thriller—pace, plot, and twists. But, for me, my favorites have a foundational character. Cliche characters beget cliche thrillers. But present me with a real person with human emotions that I care about and pull them into something dangerous and relentless? I can't turn away. I'm drawn to people who feel more human and less "larger than life." I love thrillers where heroes bleed on the page and evil leaps down your throat.

When I finally unfolded my long body out of the tiny space, there were no high fives or back slaps from the proofer, the director, or the sound engineer for a job well done. Instead, I got 'the nod'—the recognition that I had earned my place as an audiobook narrator.