People have always had a fascination with the wealthy. It’s that urge to peak behind the hedges in order to get a glimpse into their world of glamour. A place where people can escape into someone else’s life and see just how the other half, or should I say, one percenters live.
It’s also a particularly great setting for a thriller. Most horror novels or movies will drop you right into an abandoned house or darkened woods, immediately spiking your adrenaline knowing that something bad is about to happen.
When you set a story in an idyllic location, it actually creates an even more unnerving sensation because they know you are about to shatter the illusion that places such as this might not be as safe and secure as you might have once hoped.
In my novel, The Tutor, one of our main characters is Evelyn, a woman who marries into a generational wealthy family and for years has navigated her way through various social circles. When her son Grant learns of her Parkinson’s diagnosis, he insists on moving into her Palm Beach mansion with her, along with his new wife Rose and her son James.
Rose, never having money before, is quickly thrown into a world she’s never dreamed of, which makes this transition even that more overwhelming for her.
When you begin a story with a person who has everything, we become somewhat entranced as we see this character, driving expensive cars to their lavish estates, followed by attending their exclusive country clubs surrounded by other famous individuals. We see this life and imagine what our lives would be like if we were ever in their shoes.
You are at first distracted by the allure of it all, but like a magic trick, you are forced to look one way all while being deceived right in front of your own eyes.
It is this attraction and curiosity that causes social and structural extravagance to become amplified, which in turn creates higher stakes. Anyone can find themselves in a precarious position.
But someone with power and money, because of who they are, might cause them to respond in a way that normal people wouldn’t necessarily do. For the sake of their reputation, they will instead put everything on the line to avoid getting found out.
In The Tutor, Evelyn’s husband died twenty years ago under suspicious circumstances, yet she has done everything in her power to squash rumors and make it disappear.
When you have a character who is morally ambiguous, there can be a sense of arrogance that whatever trouble this person is causing, the power they wield can make it all go away without the fear of consequences. That’s because connections and money, can bury secrets, and create layers of depth in which the reader will need to work through to unearth the truth.
In my novel, Evelyn uses her connections to discover a dark secret about her daughter-in-law Rose. She uses her financial power as leverage and manipulation to maintain the upper hand and control the situation.
However, when Rose tries to do her own digging on Evelyn and what might have really happened to her husband, that information is wiped clean from the internet.
Other examples of using power to control the narrative is by using it to destroy evidence or having witnesses that are fearful of what might happen not only to them, but to their families, if they were tell the truth. It is a great tactic to set up dead ends and force your protagonist to try to outwit those who have gone through great lengths to hide the truth.
While there can be plenty of reasons that motivate these types of characters to do what they do, one of the main goals is to keep up appearances. It is this contrast between surface pristine and hidden dysfunction that elevates tension.
When a character has it all, the last thing they want is to lose it. Therefore, a glossy façade amplifies suspense in storytelling, keeping ulterior motives hidden and allowing certain facts to remain buried which can create an even greater twist when the intentions are finally revealed.
Most importantly, you want to highlight the character’s internal struggles with their ego and their attempt at preserving the illusion despite the cracks that are forming. It creates this element of strain in the character’s internal dialogue expressing their fear of someone suspecting something and finding out that they are nothing but a fraud as they grapple with their insecurity and imposture syndrome.
We see this ongoing conflict of wealth and power in shows such as Succession, Palm Royal, and the latest season of The White Lotus. But what makes these shows so successful, is that as extreme as one might think the differences are, no money in the world can solve for basic human emotions that derive from insecurities resulting from relationship issues, betrayals, trauma or grief.
By expanding on the extremes, we inadvertently narrow the divide by revealing the raw emotion and true scars that makes us all human and proving that money doesn’t guarantee happiness.
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