How a Broken Pool Turned Into a Mystery

I didn’t set out to write a thriller. Honestly, I just wanted a quiet story about sun, sea, and maybe a glass (or three) of local wine. Then a swimming pool collapsed — and everything went downhill from there.

The Accidental Beginning

Writers are magpies; we steal shiny things. A phrase, a smell, an overheard remark can turn into 90,000 words before we realise what’s happening.
For me, it was a comment I heard on Spain’s Costa Blanca:

“The ground here remembers everything.”

That line stuck. Within weeks, my holiday notebook was filled with cryptic scribbles about paperwork, property, and secrets you can’t quite concrete over.

The Setting That Wouldn’t Behave

You know those postcards of bright white villas and turquoise pools? Gorgeous, aren’t they? Now imagine them just a little too quiet. That’s where my story decided to live — in the gap between sunshine and shadow.

The Costa Blanca is beautiful, but it’s also layered: old villages under new resorts, past under present. The perfect place for a writer who enjoys asking inconvenient questions like, “What’s beneath this?”

The Plot That Refused to Sit Still

All I’ll say is this: it begins with something ordinary and ends somewhere very different. There’s a man trying to make a fresh start, a discovery that won’t stay buried, and a town that would prefer everyone to mind their own business.

That’s as much as I’m giving away — for now.

Characters Who Talked Back

Every writer tells you their characters take over. Mine didn’t just take over; they started leaving me voicemail messages. One in particular refused to shut up until I rewrote half the book. (She was right. She usually is. I'm looking at you Lucía).

They surprised me, frightened me a bit, and occasionally made me laugh out loud — usually in public places, which I don’t recommend.

The Joy of Not Knowing

The best part of writing a mystery is being the first person to find out what happens. The questions I think everyone will want the answers to:
Why did this thing happen?
Who benefits from silence?
How far would someone go to keep their version of paradise intact?

If I did my job right, readers will feel that same mix of curiosity and dread.

The Takeaway (So Far)

By the time the book comes out next year, I’ll have called it a thriller, a mystery, a moral puzzle, and occasionally “that thing that stole my sleep.”
What it really is, though, is a story about memory — personal, historical, and geographic.

Because wherever you build your life — a villa, a city, or a dream — the ground beneath it remembers everything.

Coming in 2026: my as-yet-unpaved mystery set under the Spanish sun.
Bring sunscreen, and possibly a lawyer.