What's the story behind the story? What inspired you to write this book?
I like stories that look familiar on the surface and then gradually go off the rails into territory you might not expect, while still touching on something larger. For me, Dissonance began where a few different interests converged. One strand came from what I had been reading in psychology and philosophy, especially around questions of personal identity and continuity—what makes someone the same person over time, and what that continuity really consists of. At the same time, I knew I wanted those questions to live inside a story driven by immediate danger, a police investigation, and steadily escalating pressure, because that is the kind of narrative engine I am naturally drawn to. Another strand was the idea of vengeance as the basis for a strong antagonist—someone whose motive could drive the story while becoming more complicated the closer you looked at it. I first conceived the story more than a decade ago, so it is difficult now to separate one original spark from everything that followed. But I find it interesting how often a compelling story begins with the antagonist rather than the protagonist. Sometimes the opponent is the first person who makes the whole world of the story come alive.
If you had to pick theme songs for the main characters of your book, what would they be?
Kira Hunt is the central character, but she is also someone who resists easy categorization, so I would hesitate to assign one song to her as if it explained who she is. There is, however, one song I have associated with Dissonance as a whole almost from the moment I first imagined the story: "Where Is My Mind?" from the Sucker Punch soundtrack. I used to picture it playing over a trailer for the story in my head. The lyrics were never what connected it to the story for me; it was the pacing, atmosphere, and the way the music seems to keep shifting the emotional ground beneath you. That always felt strangely appropriate for Dissonance.
What's your favorite genre to read? Is it the same as your favorite genre to write?
I read and watch much more widely than I write. What usually draws me in is not the genre itself so much as the promise of a fascinating conflict—a consequential confrontation between interesting characters, whether or not that confrontation is physical. I especially like that moment when you can feel disaster approaching, sometimes before the characters themselves fully understand what is coming. Suspense, horror, crime, drama, or even comedy can all create that feeling in different ways. So I fish widely, but when I write fiction, I feel most at home in thriller territory, though I sometimes draw on the atmosphere and pressure of horror when a story calls for it.
What books are on your TBR pile right now?
Most of what I read is nonfiction, largely because of my other work in philosophy and economics. But at the moment, my fiction TBR includes The River by Peter Heller, The North Water by Ian McGuire, and The Vaster Wilds by Lauren Groff. I’m already working on a new novel, and these are partly on my list because I’m interested in seeing how they handle a strong sense of place, physical immediacy, and emotional pressure in demanding environments. The story I’m developing is very different in plot and structure, but I suspect there may be some broader overlap in atmosphere.
What scene in your book was your favorite to write?
That is a difficult choice because I tend to spend a lot of time revisiting the central turning points of a story, and those are usually the scenes I become most attached to. If I had to choose one, I would probably pick the police interview scene between Kira and Detective Parker Smiley. On the surface, you might get the impression that very little is happening: both women remain controlled, both are mostly polite, and neither says everything she is thinking. Underneath, though, it is a confrontation. They are testing each other, trying to understand how much the other person knows and how far she is prepared to go. I enjoy scenes where the real conflict lives in the subtext. There is another scene, around the transition from the second act into the third, that may actually be my favorite. Unfortunately, explaining why would spoil one of the major turns of the book, so I will have to leave that one alone.
Do you have any quirky writing habits? (lucky mugs, cats on laps, etc.)
Most of what I would call my writing process happens inside my head before I write a single word of the first draft. Quite often, I begin by seeing something like a movie trailer in my imagination. Not as a marketing tool, but as a compressed visual and emotional version of the story: fragments of key scenes, turning points, atmosphere, conflict. If that imagined trailer keeps pulling me back, I start increasing the resolution of the story around it—finding smaller turning points, relationships, consequences, until eventually there is enough structure for the characters to begin pushing back against the plan. That’s usually the threshold I’m waiting for. Once the story starts surprising me too, I know there is probably something worth writing.
Do you have a motto, quote or philosophy you live by?
One I come back to often is: "How you think is more important than what you think." For me, it is a reminder not to become too attached to the first explanation that feels convincing. The way we arrive at a conclusion matters at least as much as the conclusion itself—whether we are talking about philosophy, science, everyday life, or even a thriller in which appearances may not be especially reliable.
If you could choose one thing for readers to remember after reading your book, what would it be?
If I had to choose one thing, it would probably be that people are often more complicated than the stories we build around them. We are very quick to decide who someone is, what their past means, what motivates them, and sometimes even what they deserve. People rarely fit those judgments as neatly as we would like them to. Dissonance plays with that uncertainty quite a lot. If readers finish the book a little less certain that a person can be reduced to one simple version of who they are—while still feeling satisfied by the central confrontation and the mystery of the story- I would be very happy.
