Things I Require from your Domestic Thriller Novel
by Rachel Mans McKenny
I’m not picky, but please start with an overarching metaphor from something inherently domestic: a yard or a sink of dishes? Is there a laundry basket representing a cage, the cage of monogamy? Maybe the unmatched socks represent a couple adrift in an unfulfilled marriage?
There should be a wife. Better: two or three. Best: four wives married to the same man. There should be silhouettes on the cover. The house that each wife lives in should have sharp things handy. Knives are fine. Antique garden spades are better.
I love multiple narrators. One narrator should be unreliable. One should be so truthful but unbelievable that Cassandra would weep. We could find out at the end they are all the same narrator, or that one of them was dead the entire time.
Do you have anything with a sociopath? I’m allergic to psychopath, so pure sociopaths only, please.
Oh, sorry. I should have specified. I have no appetite for poor people in danger. I love the flavor of a husband named Louboutin Versace, with a side of off-page vacation house. Maybe his pool needs a new filter because the old filter was involved in a decades-old unsolved murder. I need to be glad we don’t have a pool by the end. Murder, plus the insurance costs.
I’d love a pairing. I trust your judgment. My taste? High-acidity in-group dynamics are a favorite. My tolerance for PTA is pretty low, but I’ve been thirsty for a good dance-moms or family-reunion, with a nose of revenge. Again, I’m not the expert here.
A twist? Yes, of course. I’ll tell you when to stop.
Twistier.
Twistier.
Ha, I see you’re starting to slow down, but my palate is very twist-discerning. When I read in reviews ahead of time “Wow, that twist,” I need the reviewer not only to not see it coming but to never pre-conceive it coming. I want an original twist so out of nowhere that primordial ooze drips from the narrative. A maid should need to clean up the ooze. Or she’s a nanny. The nanny can be a sociopath or a pool filter technician or a wife, or all three.
One tiny thing. I’m not sure I see the value. Do you perhaps know of a place where I can get this for free? Oh, not the library. Their reservations are booked months out. Any ideas?
Where did you get that antique garden spade?
