What Freida McFadden Taught Me About Writing Psychological Thrillers

Watched by C.L. Sutton

Okay, confession time: I'm a total Freida McFadden fangirl.

There, I said it. As a psychological thriller author myself, I probably should play it cool and act all mysterious about my influences, but honestly? Freida McFadden is one of the reasons I write the twisted, dark stories I do today.

When I first picked up one of her books (we'll get to that in a minute), I wasn't just reading for entertainment—I was studying. Taking notes. Highlighting passages. Basically doing everything short of creating a conspiracy board with red string connecting all her plot points. And you know what? Freida McFadden taught me more about crafting addictive psychological thrillers than any writing workshop ever could.

So grab your favourite reading beverage, settle in, and let me tell you exactly what Freida McFadden showed me about writing thrillers that readers literally cannot put down.

The Freida McFadden Hook: Grab Them By Page One

The first thing you notice about any Freida McFadden book? That opening. She doesn't ease you in gently with pages of atmospheric description or slow character building. Nope. Freida McFadden drops you straight into the deep end, and you're either going to swim or... well, you're going to swim because you literally can't stop reading.

Take The Housemaid. Within the first few pages, you know something is OFF. You don't know what yet, but that sense of unease is already crawling up your spine. Freida McFadden masters the art of the immediate hook—that irresistible opening that makes you think, "Just one chapter before bed" (spoiler: it's never just one chapter).

What I learned: Don't make readers wait for the good stuff. When I wrote Nana, I knew I had to grab readers immediately. I opened with a moment that raises immediate questions: Who is this strange woman? What has happened to her? And more importantly—what's about to happen? Freida McFadden taught me that psychological thrillers should feel urgent from word one.

The best openings don't explain everything—they promise that everything will be explained if you just keep reading. And Freida McFadden? She's the queen of that promise.

Master the Art of the Unreliable Narrator (Freida McFadden Style)

If there's one thing Freida McFadden does better than almost anyone, it's making you trust a narrator you absolutely should not trust. Or making you distrust a narrator who's actually telling the truth. Or—and this is the really devious part—making you question whether YOU can even trust your own judgment about who to believe.

In Freida McFadden's hands, the unreliable narrator isn't just a gimmick—it's a psychological weapon. She'll have you rooting for someone in chapter three and questioning everything about them by chapter seven. And the brilliant part? You won't even notice it happening until it's too late.

What I learned: The unreliable narrator is only as good as the author's ability to make them feel RELIABLE at first. Freida McFadden taught me that the trick isn't just hiding information from readers—it's making them complicit in their own deception. Make them WANT to believe your narrator. Make them defend your narrator to their book club. And then pull the rug out so hard they get whiplash.

When I crafted the perspectives in Killing for Innocence, I thought constantly about how Freida McFadden would handle it. How much do I reveal? How much do I conceal? And most importantly—how do I make readers question their own moral compass along with the characters'?

Short Chapters Are Your Secret Weapon

Have you noticed that Freida McFadden's chapters are deliciously, dangerously short? There's a reason for that, and it's not just about modern attention spans (though that doesn't hurt).

Short chapters create this irresistible momentum. You finish one, and it's only three pages to the next chapter break. Just three pages! You can read three pages. And then that chapter ends on a little hook, and the next one is only four pages, and suddenly it's 2 AM and you've blown through half the book and you have work tomorrow but WHO CARES because you need to know what happens.

Freida McFadden understands that pacing in psychological thrillers isn't just about plot—it's about the physical experience of reading. It's about making it literally difficult to put the book down because you're always so close to the next chapter.

What I learned: Chapter length is a pacing tool, not just an organisational one. When I structured The Therapist, I thought about how best to use those short, punchy chapters to create urgency. Every chapter needs to earn its place. Every chapter needs to either reveal something crucial or deepen the mystery. No filler. No coasting.

Some of my beta readers told me they stayed up way too late reading The Therapist, and honestly? That's the highest compliment a thriller writer can get. Thank you, Freida McFadden, for teaching me the dark art of sleep deprivation via chapter breaks.

The Twist Isn't Enough—You Need THE TWIST and Then Another One

Here's where Freida McFadden really separates herself from the pack: she doesn't just give you one good twist. She gives you multiple twists, layered like a seriously messed-up cake.

You think you've figured out the big reveal? Cool. Here's another one. Oh, you saw that coming? How about THIS? Freida McFadden plays with reader expectations like a cat with a laser pointer—just when you think you've caught it, it moves.

But here's the thing: these twists don't feel cheap or gimmicky. They feel earned. When you look back, the clues were there. Freida McFadden doesn't cheat—she just knows how to direct your attention away from what really matters while making you think you're paying attention to everything.

What I learned: A great twist recontextualises everything that came before it. It makes readers want to immediately reread the book to catch all the clues they missed. Freida McFadden taught me that twists aren't just about shock value—they're about that delicious "OH MY GOD, IT WAS RIGHT THERE THE WHOLE TIME" feeling.

When I plot my books, I build in multiple layers of revelation. I wanted that same experience Freida McFadden delivers: the moment when you think you know what kind of story you're reading, and then you realise you were reading a completely different story all along.

The question I kept asking myself (borrowed straight from the Freida McFadden playbook): "Okay, they might see that twist coming, but will they see THIS one?"

Write Characters Who Make Terrible Decisions (That Make Perfect Sense)

One thing I love about Freida McFadden's characters is that they make choices that make you scream at the book. "DON'T GO IN THERE!" "DON'T TRUST HER!" "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

But here's the genius part: in the moment, those decisions make complete sense. Freida McFadden creates characters whose terrible choices are understandable given their circumstances, their psychology, their desperation. They're not stupid—they're human. And humans make catastrophically bad decisions all the time, especially when we're scared, desperate, or in love.

What I learned: The best psychological thriller characters aren't perfect. They're flawed, they're complicated, and they're capable of doing things that make readers uncomfortable—including the readers themselves. Freida McFadden taught me that if your characters are making only smart, rational decisions, you're probably not writing a very interesting thriller.

In Killing for Innocence, I wanted to explore how far someone would go when they believe they're doing the right thing. How does a normal person justify increasingly dark actions? What does "innocence" even mean when you're making morally gray choices? These are the kinds of character questions that Freida McFadden excels at, and they're the questions I grappled with in my own work.

The Domestic Setting Is Terrifying

Freida McFadden has this incredible ability to make everyday settings absolutely terrifying. Houses. Jobs. Marriages. Families. The places where we're supposed to feel safest become the places where the worst things happen.

The Housemaid is literally set in someone's home—arguably the most mundane setting possible. But in Freida McFadden's hands, that house becomes a character itself, full of secrets and danger. She understands that horror doesn't need exotic locations or elaborate set pieces. Sometimes the scariest place is the one you can't escape: your own home, your own life, your own family.

What I learned: Psychological thrillers work best when they take familiar situations and reveal the darkness lurking beneath. Freida McFadden taught me that you don't need international intrigue or serial killers (though those can be fun too). Sometimes the most compelling thrillers happen in living rooms and kitchens and bedrooms—places your readers know intimately.

When I set up the world of Liar, I thought about this lesson constantly. How do I take situations readers recognise and twist them into something unsettling? How do I make the familiar feel foreign and frightening?

The Freida McFadden Effect: Writing Thrillers Readers Can't Put Down

So here's what it all comes down to: Freida McFadden writes thrillers that respect readers' intelligence while still managing to surprise them. She creates addictive pacing without sacrificing character development. She builds twists that shock without feeling cheap. And she makes you think about her books long after you've finished them.

As a psychological thriller author, studying Freida McFadden's work has been like getting a masterclass in what makes this genre tick. She's raised the bar for what readers expect from psychological thrillers, and honestly? I'm grateful for it. It's made me a better writer.

When I wrote Killing for Innocence, I channeled everything I'd learned from reading Freida McFadden obsessively (and yes, taking all those notes). I wanted to create that same addictive reading experience—the kind where you look up and three hours have passed and you're somehow 200 pages deeper into the book.

I wanted to craft twists that would make readers gasp out loud on the subway. I wanted to create characters who make you uncomfortable because they feel a little too real, a little too relatable in their darkness. I wanted to ask moral questions that don't have easy answers.

Did I succeed? Well, that's for readers to decide. But I can tell you this: without Freida McFadden showing me what's possible in this genre, Killing for Innocence would be a very different (and probably much less twisty) book.

Your Turn: What Has Freida McFadden Taught You?

Whether you're a reader or a writer (or both), Freida McFadden has probably influenced how you think about psychological thrillers. Maybe she's set your expectations for what a great twist should feel like. Maybe she's made you suspicious of every seemingly perfect family you meet at dinner parties. Maybe she's cost you countless hours of sleep because you absolutely had to finish just one more chapter.

For me, Freida McFadden taught me that psychological thrillers should be smart, surprising, and utterly unputdownable. They should make readers question everything, including their own judgment. And they should leave readers thinking about them long after the final page.

If you love Freida McFadden's brand of twisted, addictive psychological suspense, I'd love for you to check out Killing for Innocence. I poured everything I learned from studying her work into creating a thriller that I hope will keep you up way too late, make you gasp at the twists, and leave you questioning where the line between justice and vengeance really lies.

Because at the end of the day, that's what the best psychological thrillers do—they mess with your head in the most delicious way possible. And I have Freida McFadden to thank for teaching me how.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have another Freida McFadden book to reread. For research purposes, obviously.


Have you read my books yet? What's your favourite book? And if you're looking for your next twisty psychological thriller, check out The Therapist—available in ebook and paperback!