Here’s something that took me too long to learn:
The suspense doesn’t always come from the action. It comes from the pause between action and reaction.
Specifically: the delay in the emotional reaction.
Because real impact doesn’t always arrive on schedule. It often comes late, by surprise, and packing extra clout.
Let the Moment Linger
Say your character goes through something horrible: A loved one collapses. They nearly drown. They discover a betrayal.
The instinct might be to show them falling apart there and then, to capitalize on the moment and take full advantage of it.
But what you put off the reaction for a scene or two?
What if the character:
Numbs out
Goes quiet
Keeps moving
Changes the subject
Makes a joke
Now the reader’s not just watching the scene. They’re feeling the pressure build as they wait for the inevitable reaction.
And when that pressure finally breaks… Ohhh, it hits.
Real People Don’t Cry on Cue
Sometimes we laugh hard at bad news.
Sometimes we get mad two days later.
Sometimes we act like we’re fine when we’re absolutely not.
So when your character delays their reaction, it:
✅ Feels real
✅ Adds mystery to their internal state
✅ Builds tension for what’s coming
Because readers know it’s coming. They just don’t know when, or how bad it’ll be.
That’s suspense.
Let’s See It in Action
Imagine this moment:
Mira finds her sister’s phone in the middle of the forest. The screen is cracked. There’s blood on the case. No sign of her sister anywhere.
In the hands of a less experienced writer, this is where she might’ve collapsed. Sobbed. Panicked.
Imagine this instead:
She doesn’t scream. Doesn’t cry. Doesn’t even blink.
She picks up the phone, wipes it clean with the hem of her shirt, and pockets it. Then she turns around and starts walking back toward town. Quiet. Mechanic. Unnaturally calm.
Then, two scenes later, as she’s washing the dishes at her mom’s house—she drops a plate, hears the crack, and just breaks. Her whole body gives out as the reaction finally hits at hurricane force.
By delaying the emotional breakdown, you create a tremble beneath the surface. The reader knows: this isn’t fine. This is trauma on mute.
And the snapping that finally comes hits hard because of the silence before it.
A Prompt to Try
Pick an emotionally intense scene in your story.
Now rewrite it so your character doesn’t react emotionally right away.
Let them hold it in.
Let them smile, nod, pretend.
And later—in an unexpected moment—let the real emotion land.
Trust me, it’ll hit twice as hard.
If this post gave you a new way to think about tension, hit the ❤️ and share it with your fellow suspense nerds.
Because the scariest sound in a story is the silence right before the scream.
See you next week,
Tal Valante Kilim