How Do You Build A Hero?
Beyond The Body Count
A Noble Sin
We all know a hero when we see one—the badge, the bravery, the bravado.
Books that lean on these three elements are fun. I enjoy them but they leave no lasting impact on me. It’s not the chase or the body count that matters to me. It’s the character: the tortured detective carrying guilt from a case gone wrong. The reluctant warrior who never wanted to fight but can't walk away from injustice. The damaged soul searching for redemption. The outsider who sees what others miss.
Each of these archetypes works because they're built on something real—pain transformed into purpose, weakness that becomes strength, shadows that create depth.
So when I sat down to carve Emma Noble out of the marble slab, what figure was I trying to create?
To be honest, I didn’t think that deeply about it. In Fortunate Son I took a rookie FBI agent (on her first day in the job) and threw a kitchen sink of problems at her. But somewhere in there, beyond the joys of discovering her awkwardness, her humor, and unshakeable moral compass, I noticed a hint of darkness.
So, one of the questions I was thinking about as I started A Noble Sin was, ‘what makes someone extraordinary?’
Working Backwards
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. It’s my belief that someone who stands out from the pack has survived something that tested them.
So I worked backwards. I knew the Emma I wanted readers to meet—someone with strength beneath the humor, someone whose instincts you trust even when she doesn't trust herself. But what experiences would create that specific person? What combination of family dynamics and buried trauma would produce someone who pushes away dark shadows but still maintains that moral compass?
I love building complicated stories that torture my protagonists with no obvious way out. With Emma's backstory, I had to excavate carefully. Each layer I uncovered had to explain not just her strengths, but her blind spots. Why is she so good at reading criminals but struggles to see the truth about the people closest to her?
The Pedestal
Emma’s one true hero is her father, a veteran CIA operative who taught her right from wrong—who shaped everything she believes about justice.
But what happens when he is accused of murder? When Emma is the only person who believes in his innocence? What happens when she’s forced to hunt down her hero?
That was the emotional engine I wanted to explore in A Noble Sin. Not just the mystery of who's committing these brutal murders, but the deeper question of who Emma is when her foundation crumbles.
You’re asking why did I feel the need to put this young women through all this? You’re such a mean author!
Here’s the thing; Emma is young. She needs to grow up. And a big part of that is realizing you need to be your own hero.
And that discovery is not without trials.
(Sorry, Emma)
Writing the Pain
Lee Child once said that the maxim "write what you know" is bad advice. He recommends "write what you feel." At the time I was drafting A Noble Sin, I was dealing with a lot of complicated emotions. My mom had recently died. We had a difficult relationship and I was working through some of that.
I wasn't consciously thinking about it while I was writing Emma's story. I was just trying to solve the puzzle of her character, building scenes where she'd have to confront the gap between who she believed her father to be and the unfolding truth. But it wasn't until the book was done that I realized the theme had everything to do with how I was feeling.
Examining a character's history through the lens of your own can lead to remarkable story moments. In my experience, truth is the secret ingredient to good fiction.
Beyond Empty Calories
There's a sea of thrillers out there that deliver tons of adrenaline. In A Noble Sin, I’m hoping to give readers more than just car chases, explosions, and body counts—something more sustaining—some emotional nutrition.
Emma's hunt for her father isn't just about catching a killer. It's about that universal moment when we realize the people who shaped us are more complicated than we want them to be. When we discover that the heroes we worshipped are flawed humans, and we have to figure out who we are without that mythology propping us up.
I think those are the kinds of stories that stay with us after the last page has been read.
What Makes Her Real
What makes Emma extraordinary isn't her FBI training or her investigative skills. It's her willingness to keep digging even when the truth threatens to destroy everything she believes about herself. It's the way she handles discovering that love and loyalty don't always align with justice.
In A Noble Sin, readers don't just get to watch Emma solve a case. They get to witness her excavating her own buried secrets, confronting the darkness she's spent years pushing away. They get to see what happens when someone who's made a career of uncovering truth, has to turn that spotlight on the most painful parts of her own story.
Sometimes the most important mystery isn't who committed the crime—it's who you become when everything you thought you knew gets stripped away. I hope you enjoy, A Noble Sin.
Thanks!
Andy
A Noble Sin releases August 5th.
Andrew Bridgeman's path to writing political thrillers has been anything but conventional. A former rugby player, jazz singer, and entrepreneur, he brings a unique perspective to storytelling that has caught international attention—his debut novel is being published in Germany and Hungary. With a creative writing background from Dickinson College and an MBA from WashU in St. Louis, he combines business insight with storytelling craft. After decades in the St. Louis area, Andrew settled in New Hampshire with his wife, Kathy. When he's not crafting his next thriller, you'll find him hiking in the mountains, playing guitar, or exploring the country in his Airstream RV.
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