Is it weird that I love psychological suspense?
- Kristen Lake

- Aug 30
- 3 min read

So... is it weird?
I'm obsessed with the dark side of fiction. Give me an unreliable narrator, a protagonist who isn't a saint, and a story that makes me question everything, and I'm hooked. My shelves are packed with tales of manipulation, obsession, and psychological games. My reading list practically mirrors a criminal psychology course. So, I started to wonder: is there something wrong with me for being so fascinated by these dark stories and complex characters?
After some thought (and some research), I've decided the answer is not only "no," but that there might even be something good—even healthy—about this literary taste.
My safe space for dark thoughts
I’ve decided these novels are like "moral laboratories." Inside them, we can safely explore the darker sides of human behavior without any real-world risk. We can watch a character spiral into obsession, see the fallout of betrayal, or wrestle with impossible ethical problems—all from the comfort of our own homes.
This isn't about celebrating darkness or violence. Instead, it's about acknowledging these things exist in the world and choosing to understand them instead of ignoring them. When I read about a character making bad choices, I'm not rooting for them—I'm trying to understand.
What might push someone over the edge? How do ordinary people justify extraordinary actions to themselves?
The empathy connection
Interestingly, research indicates that people who enjoy "darker" entertainment often display higher emotional intelligence and empathy. Rather than becoming desensitized to suffering, we might actually become more attuned to the complex emotional drivers behind human behavior.
When I read about a character who lies, manipulates, or does worse, I constantly ask "why?" What past trauma, fear, or desperation brought them to this point? This isn't about excusing harmful behavior, but about acknowledging that most people aren't purely evil—they're complex, flawed, and often acting out of pain or fear, which I can, at least intellectually, understand.
Processing my shadow-side
There's also the cathartic aspect of dark fiction to consider. In everyday life, we're urged to focus on the positive, be optimistic, and look for the good in others and situations. But we all have anxieties, fears, and sometimes darker thoughts that need to be processed.
Psychological suspense provides a framework for exploring these shadowy aspects of human experience. When I read about characters struggling with jealousy, revenge, or the desire for control, I often confront similar (though less intense) impulses within myself. The fiction then becomes a safe space to acknowledge and examine these feelings without acting on them.
Intellectual thrills
Psychological suspense novels are often remarkably intricate works, demanding a lot from the reader. We're tasked with deciphering unreliable narrators, assembling fragmented timelines, and constantly reevaluating our grasp of events and characters as new details surface. There's real intellectual satisfaction in solving a complex psychological puzzle, trying to outsmart a manipulative character, or gradually realizing that everything isn't as it appears. These books value their readers' intelligence, prompting us to think critically about motivations, perceptions, and the nature of truth.
Understanding vs. endorsing
Maybe the key distinction lies between understanding darkness and celebrating it. When I'm drawn to a morally ambiguous character, I'm not necessarily hoping they'll succeed in their questionable actions. Instead, I'm intrigued by the psychological processes at play—how they rationalize their behavior, how they cope with the consequences, and how their decisions impact others. This kind of engagement with challenging material actually requires a strong moral foundation. To recognize manipulation, you need to understand healthy relationships. To appreciate the horror of psychological abuse, you must value psychological well-being. To feel the tension when characters make ethically questionable choices, you need a clear sense of right and wrong.
Real-world benefits
I've found that my love of psychological suspense has made me more aware of red flags in real relationships, more appreciative of genuine kindness and honesty, and more understanding of the complex factors that influence human behavior.
These books have taught me about gaslighting, manipulation tactics, and the warning signs of dangerous people—knowledge that's unfortunately quite useful in the real world. They've also deepened my appreciation for the people in my life who choose kindness, honesty, and genuine connection.
Embracing my inner darkness
So, is there something wrong with me for loving psychological suspense? I don't think so. If anything, I think there's something right about being willing to look directly at the complex, sometimes dark aspects of human nature rather than pretending they don't exist.


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