I love a good mystery. As a novelist, though, I often find my brain analyzing the writing—pulling at plot threads or unwinding each character’s DNA—rather than leaning in to absorb the whole story. Silent Sister by Megan Davidhizar engaged both my story brain and my analytical brain with excellent plot, pacing, and character development.
One moment Grace Stoll is on an overnight trip with her high school class and next thing she knows, she is waking up in a hospital, the television broadcasting an image of her face above the word MISSING. Although Grace is safe and sound in the hospital, her near-identical sister, Maddy, is still missing. Grace wants desperately to help find Maddy, but she sustained a severe head injury that night and can’t remember anything that happened on the trip. As the police investigate what happened to the two sisters, they discover Maddy’s blood on Grace’s clothing, casting her as a possible suspect. To discover what happened to her missing sister, Grace must sort through what others remember about the events leading up to the disappearance.
The story sent me careening on a fast-paced slip and slide as the plot took one turn, then another. Each twist provided a different glimpse of the characters, other ways to interpret their words and actions, until at the end of the ride, I lie sprawled on the ground, looking back up at the hill in its entirety, able to finally see how each piece contributed to the whole.
I love characters who are not always who or what they seem and Grace is certainly surrounded by many of those. Everyone treats Grace differently after her sister’s disappearance. From her parents, who are consumed by their own grief, to the other students who were on the trip, who treat her like they barely know her.
Many writers struggle to craft well-developed characters and teen characters pose an increased challenge. It isn’t sufficient for adult writers to reflect on their own high school experience or to pepper the dialogue with modern teen lingo because that only makes the story and characters feel inauthentic.
To write believable teen characters, authors must understand that teens are fully-formed individuals with their own passion, purpose, and drive. Davidhizar’s work provides a master class in this. Of course, her day job as a high school teacher provides a distinct advantage: daily contact with hundreds of individuals who just happen to be the same age as her characters. This front row seat into the lives of teens equips Davidhizar to write beyond archetypes to create multi-faceted characters capable of exploring questions that transcend age categories, like how well do we really know the people we are closest to? How well do we really know ourselves?
And when the reader gets up from the slip and slide of a perfectly-paced plot still processing those questions, THAT is the mark of a great story.