<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Thriller on Paul Green</title><link>https://realhero.uk/tags/thriller/</link><description>Recent content in Thriller on Paul Green</description><image><title>Paul Green</title><url>https://realhero.uk/images/social/default-social.png</url><link>https://realhero.uk/images/social/default-social.png</link></image><generator>Hugo -- 0.147.8</generator><language>en-gb</language><lastBuildDate>Thu, 28 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://realhero.uk/tags/thriller/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Kill Me Twice</title><link>https://realhero.uk/blog/2026-05-28/</link><pubDate>Thu, 28 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://realhero.uk/blog/2026-05-28/</guid><description>&lt;h1 id="writing-kill-me-twice-when-the-setting-becomes-the-character">Writing &lt;em>Kill Me Twice&lt;/em>: When the Setting Becomes the Character&lt;/h1>
&lt;p>Some ideas arrive with a complete set of instructions. This wasn&amp;rsquo;t one of those.&lt;/p>
&lt;p>What I had, at the start, was a skeleton — barely even that. Hard-boiled detective fiction. Liverpool. A protagonist who was damaged in the specific way that interesting protagonists tend to be damaged: not heroically, not cinematically, but in the grinding, managed way of someone carrying injuries that haven&amp;rsquo;t healed and probably won&amp;rsquo;t. An ex-cop doing PI work above a bookmaker&amp;rsquo;s in Kensington. The bones of something, waiting for the thing that would make it worth writing.&lt;/p></description></item></channel></rss>