SEO to GEO; And There's Fear in the House

Welcome to today’s episode. Anyone of a certain age will see the picture of a slightly disturbed woman holding a rabbit and know the movie reference immediately. From 'Play Misty to Me" and "Fatal Attraction" to more recent iterations like "Gone Girl", the domestic thriller is safely established as one of the most popular crime sub genres ever. I'll be examining what makes a great domestic thriller in the craft segment. But first, the equally scary world of AI - specifically GEO.

It seems to me, that by the time I have nailed one marketing technique, it is already out of date, and being replaced by another social media platform, or new tactic that requires a steep learning curve and hours of my time.

I wish I could tell you that this will all slow down sometime soon, but unfortunately, the life of an indie author remains as busy as ever, as we navigate change on a constant basis.

Remember when we all scrambled to learn about SEO—that mysterious art of getting Google to notice our websites and books? Well, the game is changing again, and this time it's all about something called Generative Optimization. Now, AI is a controversial subject, with hot debate around the ethics of how AI is developing and being used, especially by creatives.

But search engines are changing, and whether authors like it or not, if we want our books to be found, we have to at least know about Generative Optimization.

So what’s actually happening here?

For years, we've been creating content with search engines in mind. We sprinkled keywords throughout our blog posts, author websites, and book descriptions, hoping Google would rank us higher when readers searched for topics we write about. The goal was simple: show up on that first page of search results so readers could click through to our websites.

But people aren't just using traditional search engines anymore. They're asking ChatGPT, Claude, and other AI assistants for information, book recommendations, and answers to their questions. And these AI tools don't just point people to websites like Google does—they actually create new answers on the spot, pulling information from various sources.

This shift means that instead of optimizing for search engines (SEO), we now need to think about optimizing for these generative AI tools (GEO).

In simple terms, Generative Optimization means creating content that AI systems can easily understand, accurately summarize, and properly credit to you when they use your ideas or information in their responses.

It's not about tricking AI or gaming the system—it's about presenting your unique knowledge and stories in ways these systems can properly recognize, understand, and attribute to you.

So if someone asks an AI platform, "Can you recommend a good mystery novel set in New Orleans?" or "What's the best way to train a stubborn puppy?" If you've written a murder mystery set in the French Quarter or a dog training guide, you want the AI to mention YOUR book, along with all the other recommendations.

Without adapting to this new reality, authors risk becoming invisible in conversations happening through these AI tools. Your stories might be overshadowed by writers whose content is better structured for AI systems to find and use, even if their books and stories aren’t as good as yours.

Adapting to this new reality doesn't mean writing robotic content or compromising your voice. It's actually about being clearer, more organized, and more thorough—things that help human readers too!

While SEO often rewarded keyword stuffing and superficial coverage of topics, AI systems are better at recognizing content that thoroughly explores a subject:

• Answer the natural follow-up questions readers might have

• Include examples that illustrate your points

• Acknowledge different perspectives, even if you're presenting your own view

• Connect your specific topic to bigger themes readers care about

When you cover a topic thoroughly, you're more likely to be seen as an authority—by both AI systems and human readers.

For example, this means that your book blurbs on your website, on retail platforms and websites such as Goodreads should be genre-specific, should mention tropes, and even compare your books to other similar authors. That way, AI platforms will instantly know exactly what your books are about and match them to reader’s queries.

Early experiments with GEO have found that the search functions tend to recommend authors and work that has credibility – unfortunately for Indie authors, this is heavily skewed in favour of trad authors. However, we can mitigate this by connecting to trusted sources.

Make sure you are on Goodreads, for example,. Engage thoughtfully with other respected creators in your field, participate in podcasts, interviews, and guest posts that expand your reach and build relationships with organizations in your field. For me, that is the Canadian Crime Writers Association, or Sisters in Crime.

These connections not only help AI systems recognize your authority but also expand your human audience.

Here's the good news: you don't have to choose between writing for humans and writing for AI. The best approach serves both masters. We won’t be working to “game” algorithms or artificially stuffing our blogs and blurbs with keywords. We can keep our authentic voice and perspective, while organizing our books and content in logical ways. We must provide context that helps readers (both human and AI) fully understand what our books are about, and focus on creating genuinely valuable content, not chasing algorithmic tricks

If you've spent years learning SEO tricks, this shift might feel frustrating. But here's the silver lining: if you've been creating genuinely valuable content all along, you're already halfway there. The core principles of creating meaningful, well-structured content that actually helps people remain as important as ever—they just need some tweaking for this new AI-powered reality.

The authors who will thrive aren't necessarily the most tech-savvy ones, but those who thoughtfully adapt while staying true to their authentic voice and commitment to creating genuinely valuable content. The world is changing quickly, but the fundamental value of great writing remains—even if the path between writers and readers now sometimes runs through AI assistants.

So take a deep breath. The robots might be joining the conversation, but they're still no match for a passionate human author with something important to say.

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And now onto the craft segment and today I’m exploring a crowded but exciting crime sub-genre, the domestic thriller.

Let's be honest—the domestic thriller market is booming. Ever since "Gone Girl" and "The Girl on the Train" exploded onto bestseller lists, readers have been devouring stories about seemingly perfect marriages hiding dark secrets, missing wives, and unreliable narrators struggling to piece together what really happened that night.

But here's the good news: readers can't get enough of these books. The bad news? They've read so many that they're savvy about the tropes, twists, and techniques. They'll spot a lazy plot turn from a mile away, and they'll call you out on it in those Goodreads reviews that'll haunt you at 3 AM.

So how do you write a domestic thriller that feels fresh while still delivering what genre fans crave?

First things first—let's get clear on what we're talking about. Domestic thrillers center on interpersonal relationships, usually within families or intimate partnerships. The danger comes from inside the house, not from serial killers or international espionage (though there might be a touch of those elements lurking around the edges).

The core ingredients that define the domestic thriller:

• The danger lurks in intimate relationships - spouses, partners, parents, children or close friends

• Ordinary settings are made sinister - suburban neighborhoods, family homes, vacation rentals for example

• Psychological suspense takes precedence over physical action,

• Secrets and lies form the foundation of the conflict and

• The protagonist often questions their own perception of reality

What makes domestic thrillers so deliciously unsettling is the violation of safety in spaces we're supposed to trust. The marital bed, the family dinner table, the shared bathroom mirror—all become sites of potential danger and deception.

So what are the tropes that readers expect?

First, up is the Unreliable Narrator

From Rachel in "The Girl on the Train" to Nick in "Gone Girl," the unreliable narrator has become nearly synonymous with domestic thrillers. Readers expect to question whether they can trust what the viewpoint character is telling them.

Instead of relying solely on alcohol, drugs, or memory issues to create unreliability, consider more nuanced approaches. Perhaps your narrator is perfectly lucid but has cultural blind spots or professional biases that color their interpretation of events. Maybe they're reliable about some things but have one specific blind spot that matters enormously to the plot.

Then we have the Perfect-Looking Relationship or Family With Dark Secrets

We're all familiar with the setup—the enviable couple with the gorgeous house whose perfect facade hides terrible secrets.

Instead of starting with perfection and revealing cracks, consider starting with acknowledged imperfection. Perhaps your couple is in therapy, openly struggling, or rebuilding after a known transgression—but the real secret is something neither they nor the reader initially suspects. Or flip the script entirely—a couple everyone pities or looks down on might be hiding something enviable rather than terrible.

The Missing/Dead Woman is next.

Let's face it—the domestic thriller landscape is littered with the bodies of wives and girlfriends. From "Gone Girl" to "The Wife Between Us," the missing or dead female partner drives countless plots.

But who else could go missing in a domestic setting. A child is another common choice, but what about an aging parent? A surrogate? A live-in nanny or caretaker?  You could  play with the structure—start with the reveal of who's missing/dead, but make the mystery about why or how it happened.

Readers expect to have the rug pulled out from under them at least once in a domestic thriller. If they reach the end without their assumptions being challenged, they'll feel cheated.

The best twists aren't just surprising—they're inevitable in hindsight. Rather than focusing on shock value, aim for twists that force readers to reinterpret everything they've read before. And remember that subtle misdirection throughout the book works better than a twist that comes out of nowhere. Plant your clues fairly but disguise them well.

Domestic thrillers thrive on relationships gone wrong—partnerships twisted by control, jealousy, resentment, or outright hatred.

 Try exploring  less obvious forms of toxicity. Beyond physical abuse or obvious control, consider relationships poisoned by excessive devotion, codependency, shared delusions, or even toxic positivity. What about a couple whose dedication to appearing perfect to others drives them to extremes? Or partners whose commitment to radical honesty creates its own dangerous dynamic?

The domestic thriller market has evolved since "Gone Girl" blew it wide open. Today's readers have more specific expectations and interests. They look for Psychological Complexity

Cardboard villains twirling their metaphorical mustaches won't cut it anymore. Readers want antagonists with understandable (if warped) motivations and protagonists with moral complexity. No purely innocent victims or purely evil perpetrators—the gray areas are where the most interesting stories live.

The best recent domestic thrillers don't exist in a vacuum—they engage with social issues that shape domestic dynamics: economic inequality, social media pressure, changing gender roles, racial dynamics, mental health stigma, etc. You don't need to write a political manifesto, but acknowledging how larger forces shape your characters' choices adds depth and relevance.

While single-narrator thrillers still work, readers increasingly appreciate multiple perspectives that allow them to see how different characters perceive the same events. This approach also lets you play with dramatic irony—showing readers something a character doesn't know yet.

Beyond the content, certain technical approaches tend to work particularly well for this genre:

Domestic thrillers typically employ one of these structural approaches:

• The slow-build, which means starting with subtle wrongness that escalates

• The aftermath, where the beginning of the story is immediately after a significant event and the plot involves reconstructing what led to it or,

• The dual timeline which means alternating between "before" and "after" a pivotal incident

Whichever you choose, remember that domestic thrillers require consistent tension, even in quieter moments. Every scene should either escalate the stakes, reveal new information, deepen characterization, or (ideally) all three.

In domestic thrillers, houses, neighborhoods, and communities aren't just backdrops—they're integral to the story's psychological landscape. The creak in the stairs, the nosy neighbor across the street, the hidden crawlspace, the shared wall with the adjoining apartment—all become elements in the psychological chess game your characters are playing.

Let's talk about what not to do—the issues that most commonly sink potentially good domestic thrillers.

Your plot twists need to emerge organically from character choices and established circumstances. If your resolution depends on unlikely coincidences or characters suddenly acting against their established nature, readers will call foul.

Every major reveal should be properly set up. Readers should be surprised but not confused—they should be able to look back and see that the clues were there all along. Nothing kills reader satisfaction faster than a twist that feels like it came out of nowhere.

If you're writing a story where someone does something extreme—faking their death, elaborately framing their spouse, or engaging in long-term deception—you need to make their psychology believable. What in their background, personality, and circumstances would drive them to such extremes? Surface-level motivations like "she was angry" or "he was jealous" aren't sufficient for extraordinary actions.

Domestic thrillers often touch on serious issues like abuse, assault, mental illness, and addiction. Handling these topics carelessly can feel exploitative and turn readers off. Research thoroughly, consider sensitivity readers, and ask yourself whether you're using these elements thoughtfully or just for shock value.

Many successful domestic thrillers tap into contemporary anxieties. What if a couple's smart home technology becomes a tool for control? What if social media pressure drives parents to extremes? What if economic pressures force incompatible families to share living space? Start with a timely concern and push it to its psychological breaking point.

Writing a successful domestic thriller means honoring genre expectations while finding room for innovation within those boundaries. Readers come to these books for the delicious tension of intimate betrayal and psychological suspense—give them that satisfaction while surprising them with how you deliver it.

Remember that at its heart, a domestic thriller isn't really about the shocking twist or the clever structure. It's about exploring the darkest corners of our most intimate relationships and asking uncomfortable questions: How well can we really know another person? What are we capable of when our domestic safety is threatened? And what secrets would we keep—or expose—to protect what matters most?

Now go forth and write something that keeps us up at night, turning pages and checking our locks.

That’s all for this week. Remember to tune in on Wednesday for my Midweek Murder Motivation where I’ll be looking at ways we can increase our productivity without burning out.