The Art of the Unanswered Question

Hello, fellow writers and storytellers.

This week, as we kick off the social media journey for The Night Chronicles, we’re focusing on the inciting mystery of the whole series. As I teased on X and Instagram today with images of a stark, empty bed, the story begins not with a bang, but with a profound and unnerving silence. This is by design, and today I want to talk about why that kind of quiet opening can be the most effective way to hook a reader.

A compelling mystery isn't just about a puzzle to be solved; it's about an emotional wound that needs closure. To create that, you have to ground the reader in the mundane reality before it shatters. In

Claimed by Night, the reader learns what a normal Saturday morning is supposed to feel like for twelve-year-old Liz Mitchel: sleeping in, the smell of coffee, her mom humming off-key in the kitchen, and her dad rustling the newspaper. By establishing this simple, relatable "normal," the absence of those sounds becomes a character in itself. The silence becomes the first clue.

The most effective mysteries are built with tangible, concrete details that feel slightly wrong.

• The Unmade Bed: A mother who never makes the bed if her husband is still sleeping has left behind a perfectly made bed. It's a small detail, a broken rule that signals to the protagonist (and the reader) that something is fundamentally incorrect.

• The Abandoned Essentials: A person doesn't leave without their purse or their keys. As the social media posts for this afternoon highlight, these aren't just objects; they are symbols of intent. Leaving them behind suggests the person had no intention of being gone for long, or worse, didn't leave willingly.

• The Lifeline: In our modern world, the most impossible clue is the phone left plugged into the charger. It's our connection to everything. Its presence screams that the trail went cold before it even began.

By layering these small, "wrong" details, you aren't just telling the reader that someone is missing. You are inviting the reader to become a detective alongside your protagonist. You are asking them a question—What happened here?—and making them desperate to turn the page to find the answer. That unanswered question is the engine of your story. So, as you craft your own openings, don't just think about the mystery; think about the silence, the clues, and the ordinary world that makes their absence so terrifying.