In Defence of the Slow Burn Thriller by Lizzy Barber

Lately, I’ve noticed a growing trend in the world of thrillers: they are becoming more and more like action movies. Everywhere you look, their velocity is being exulted: ‘fast-paced,’ ‘breakneck speed,’ ‘action packed’, ‘twist after twist.’

And whilst there is nothing wrong with an action thriller (and whilst I love seeing Chris Hemsworth’s biceps as much as the next person) I would like to make the case (slowly, and patiently), for the ‘slow-burn.’

So, what is a ‘slow-burn’? In a way it’s a promise. It says to the reader, ‘something is going to happen, and you don’t know what that is yet, but if you stick around you’ll find out.’ Where a fast-paced thriller focuses on a series of high-octane events to twist and turn the reader’s expectations, a slow burn relies on gradually ramping up the tension and pace until it crescendos into its denouement. 

However, whether it’s due to social media having retrained our brains to ingest bite sized videos at breakneck speed, or the more general instant gratification of an internet connected world, modern society – and arguably the modern reader - has lost its patience. We don’t want to wait for the twist. We are time poor and content rich. We want information handed to us instantaneously. We want the facts, just the facts. We want that dopamine hit now, now, now. 

But hear me out! Guys . . . breathe.

Reading doesn’t always have to be about that. Reading is an escape. A place to retreat to. To forget about the outside world. And for me, that means atmosphere. It means being immersed. I want to step inside the world of the book and be able to touch it, smell it, taste it. I want to linger on Tom Ripley’s suitcases; the softness of the leather, and the way Tom lovingly packs Dickie’s clothes in them. I want to have time to fall in love with the twins in The Secret History along with Richard; become spellbound by them without shouting ‘cut to the chase, get to Bunny!’ I want to roam on the Heath with Cathy and see the wildness energise her. 

As an author, I enjoy taking readers along for this ride. I like to lace my scenes with hints that all is not well; hints that gradually mount up until the whisper becomes a scream. A mother who constantly keeps the curtains of the house drawn (My Name is Anna), a gorgeous Tuscan setting that is perhaps a little ‘too’ perfect (Out of her Depth), the innocent children who talk sweetly of the nanny before (Nanny Wanted). It’s not necessarily that I want to dupe you or lure you into a false sense of security; it’s more that I want to raise your hackles as the story progresses; make you second guess everything and wonder what lies ahead. 

And slowness doesn’t have to forsake plot – in fact, it should never forsake the plot. I’m not talking about lengthy descriptions deployed for the sake of an author’s ego. Pleasingly pretty turns of phrases. Darlings they can’t or don’t want to kill. A slow-burn thriller should always be ‘thrilling,’ not boring. But the beauty of a slow-burn thriller is that it uses this narrative richness precisely in order to create the thrill. It is a powerful tool to ramp up tension, so that even in the quieter, slow moving moments, the reader feels an impending sense of dread. Rebecca’s second Mrs de Winter is not finding bodies stuffed in closets, but it is Du Maurier’s skill as an author that compels us to continually feel that she might. Slow burn is tantalising: it’s the calm before the storm, that moment before the jump scare where you feel unnervingly ‘safe, too safe.’ 

So, the next time you’re browsing the shelves looking for that perfect read, I urge you to consider the slow-burn. When deployed right, the final reveal should crackle and pop as powerfully as an action thriller: the journey is different, but ultimately all thrillers want to give us that rush, the adrenaline pounding through our veins as we reach the final climax. Allow yourself to linger on the details. See what hints the author is dropping, and why. 

Take time to smell the roses . . . you may find they’re tinged with blood. 

Nanny Wanted by Lizzy Barber Pan Macmillan (Out Now)

A remote Cornish mansion. The perfect couple. And the deadly secrets that bind them. When Lily finally leaves her toxic relationship, a job as a nanny at Kewney Manor seems like the perfect solution. There, she can cut herself off from her old life, and never have to see him again. The Rowes seem like a model family, and Lily falls instantly in love with her new home. But she can’t help feeling that something isn’t quite right. Why will nobody tell her about the nanny who came before her? Where does Laurie go at night? And what does Charles really want? As Lily becomes increasingly entangled in the Rowes’s lives, she realizes that the perfect family may not be all that they seem. And as much as she fears the past she is running from, perhaps the present is where the real danger lies . . .

More information about Lizzy Barber can be found on her website. You can also follow her on X @ByLizzyBarber and on Instagram @bylizzybarber