Book Review of All the Little Raindrops by Mia Sheridan: Fiction Writing Lessons in Suspense and Trauma
- C.C. King

- Oct 28
- 4 min read
Learning about Atmosphere, Trauma, and Emotional Stakes
🎃Hey, writers!🎃
With Halloween around the corner, fall is the season when I crave thrills and suspense—stories that keep me turning pages, leaning forward just a little. And while I like horror, the season isn't all about ghouls and goblins for me.
This month, I picked up All the Little Raindrops by Mia Sheridan, and it turned out to be exactly that kind of read: unsettling, emotionally charged, and hard to put down.
Sheridan has a reputation for romantic suspense, which isn't my top to-be-read genre. But this book is definitely more thriller than romance, so it really landed for me,
As usual, when I read, I'm looking for tips and techniques I can use in my own writing. I don’t approach novels just as entertainment (though that’s part of it).
I'm also looking at novels as opportunities to study how other authors build suspense, layer character depth, and keep readers hooked. All the Little Raindrops gave me several ideas I’m tucking away for my own drafts.
Below are three lessons I took away, through the lens of fiction writing. Short on time? Click the button below to jump to my "final thought."
1) Atmosphere over shock
One of the first things that struck me about All the Little Raindrops was its mood. Sheridan doesn’t rely on gore or shock to create unease.

Instead, she leans into atmosphere—the way shadows lengthen in a scene, the way silence stretches too long, the sense that something isn’t right even before it’s named.
That quiet, creeping dread is what kept me engaged.
Opportunities for writers:
This is a great reminder that suspense doesn’t always come from the biggest twist or scariest reveal. Sometimes the most powerful tool is atmosphere.
Setting can act as a character in its own right, guiding the reader’s emotions and hinting at danger before it arrives.
Writers can ask: how can the world around my characters heighten tension without a single plot beat changing?
My takeaway:
For me, this was a nudge to slow down and pay attention to setting in my own drafts. I often think of suspense as forward motion—what happens next?—but Sheridan reminded me that what’s happening around the characters can be just as gripping.
2) Trauma as a long shadow
When I looked at other book reviews, a point where readers sometimes disagreed was Sheridan’s treatment of trauma and recovery. Some found it frustrating that healing unfolded slowly.

For me, that was the book’s greatest strength. Trauma isn’t a quick backstory note but rather a force that lingers, shapes choices, and complicates relationships.
Sheridan’s willingness to show that slow process made the story feel authentic.
Opportunities for writers:
Trauma and backstory are often tricky to handle in fiction. Too much, and the narrative drags; too little, and it feels shallow.
Sheridan demonstrates that weaving trauma into the present—letting it influence decisions, create tension, and complicate motives—makes for deeper suspense.
Writers can ask: how does my character’s past affect every choice they make in the present story?
My takeaway:
This lesson hit close to home as I am revising my own suspense novel. Sheridan reminded me that recovery is nonlinear, that it ripples outward in ways big and small. If I can capture even some of that complexity, my characters’ decisions will feel more real.
3) Emotional investment keeps pages turning
What ultimately kept me reading wasn’t just the mystery itself but the characters.

The people in Sheridan’s world felt layered enough that, even amid tension, there were sparks of humor and moments of connection that made me care.
That emotional pull balanced the darkness and made the story far more compelling than suspense alone could.
Opportunities for writers:
Suspense thrives on curiosity, but it endures because of care. If readers don’t care about who’s in danger, no twist will matter.
Sheridan shows the value of creating characters who, even in tense situations, reveal vulnerability, quirks, or moments of connection.
Writers can ask: do readers have a reason to cheer, worry, or hope for my characters beyond the plot stakes?
My takeaway:
I’m taking away a reminder that emotional investment is the true glue in suspense. I want to think more about how to give my own protagonists and supporting characters more of that warmth, humor, or humanity that keep readers attached even when the plot takes its darkest turns.
Final Book Review Thought: Moody, Emotional, and Suspenseful Fiction Writing
All the Little Raindrops isn’t horror, but it’s exactly the kind of moody suspense I want in October. 🎃
Sheridan captures atmosphere beautifully, layers trauma into her characters’ choices, and gives readers moments of connection that balance the unease.
As a writer, I’m walking away with reminders to lean on atmosphere, to honor the long shadow of trauma, and to never forget that emotional investment is what makes suspense work.
Final words from my book review?
This novel is a great choice for readers who enjoy suspense that’s eerie without being gory, unsettling but still deeply human.
And for writers, it’s a reminder that the lessons of suspense writing often lie not in the biggest shocks, but in the small, careful choices that keep readers leaning forward.
Have you read All the Little Raindrops by Mia Sheridan? Or do you have a favorite suspense novel you’d recommend for spooky season? I'd love to hear from you in the comments or through a message here!
Peace & plenty,










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