Thriller masters at SIBF unveil the art of writing psychopaths

Moderated by Aisha Almaazmi, the session explored how authors interpret, humanise, and reimagine psychopathy in fiction — and why readers find such characters impossible to ignore.

Understanding the mind behind the menace

Araminta Hall, renowned for her psychologically intense thrillers, observed that the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath lies not only in terminology but also in motivation. “A psychopath is someone who doesn’t have a moral compass and doesn’t follow society’s rules,” she stated. “A sociopath, however, knows right from wrong and chooses to do wrong.”

Hall explained that her fascination lies in exploring the moral grey areas, the moments when seemingly ordinary people make choices that cross ethical boundaries. “That’s where the most interesting stories reside — in those shades between right and wrong,” she added.

Beyond stereotypes: Rewriting psychopathy in fiction

For Mirna Al Mahdi, much of popular culture distorts the idea of psychopathy. “People assume all psychopaths are killers, but that’s a misconception,” she said. “Some simply lack empathy — but that doesn’t make them evil. Many can remain calm and rational in moments of crisis.”

She added that literature’s obsession with such characters reflects humanity’s desire for control. “It’s a defence mechanism,” Al Mahdi explained. “We read about killers to remind ourselves we’re safe — because we’re not like them.”

Imagination vs immersion: Writing from the edge

When questioned about how they enter and exit the minds of their darker characters, both authors described very different creative approaches.

Hall explained she relies on imagination rather than emotional immersion: “When I write, I don’t become the character. The power of imagination allows us to step into other people’s minds and come out more compassionate.”

Al Mahdi, however, acknowledged that her process is more intense. “I completely become the character when I write,” she said. “After finishing a book, I have to detox by starting another one. Thankfully, my protagonist is a detective — not a murderer — or that could be dangerous!”

Violence, empathy, and responsibility in storytelling

As thrillers increasingly merge with true-crime entertainment, Hall voiced concern over how violence, especially against women, is often sensationalised. “True crime can glamorise murder,” she said. “We’ve become desensitised. Taking a life should never be treated casually — in fiction or reality.”Al-Mahdi nodded in agreement, adding, “Audiences sometimes start empathising with the killer rather than the victim. As writers, we have a responsibility to challenge that imbalance.”

Both authors concluded that the essence of writing thrillers lies not in glorifying darkness but in revealing humanity. “I can never hate my villain,” said Al-Mahdi. “If I hate him, I can’t write him fairly. Every character deserves understanding.”

Hall echoed her sentiment: “No one is entirely good or bad. A writer’s job is to find the humanity — even in darkness.”