Kill the Monster: The Paradox of Completion
Returning to Kate and Lindsey along with the cast of characters in the Lindsey McCall medical mystery series felt like returning to family members I’d not seen for a very long time. And of course, picturing their red Dobie boy Max and his pal Gus, who bears a lot of resemblance to Seymour, running in the woods, made my heart soar.
But this latest challenge facing my friends took a gigantic bite out of my gut.
After four years, Plausible Liars is done.
In the Foreward of Plausible, I wrote this:
Nothing I’ve ever written has been as brutally taxing as this story. There are hundreds of reasons for that fact, but I’ve come to understand the primary one is fear.
I didn’t come to fiction until I’d had decades of experience with writing and publishing non-fiction.
The two are worlds apart. While writing is always taxing work—the neverending search for clarity and coherence, nonfiction requires far less from the author than fiction. Because we writers of fiction have a responsibility when creating a character: he or she must be sitting beside us as we read the story. If she isn’t, we haven’t done our job.
Therefore writing Dr. T’s character forced a plunge into places I had no interest in going. A person like her would not have come into this beautiful world looking for a kid to control, manipulate, or seduce. There had to be a reason that created massive wounds in her psyche.