I can’t help but get swept up by how personal the conflict in 'Thinning' feels — the novel is driven less by plot mechanics and more by who makes the hard choices. For me, the central force is the protagonist: their moral dilemma, small acts of rebellion, and moments of cowardice all ripple outward and change other people’s fates. Whenever they decide to hide a truth, to
speak up, or to sacrifice comfort for someone else, whole sections of
the book pivot. Their internal arc is the engine; the external plot—raids, investigations, chases—follows where they lead.
Beyond the protagonist, two types of characters keep the tension tight. First, the authority figure(s) — bureaucrats, enforcers, or a charismatic leader — whose policies and cold logic create the stakes. Their public decisions force impossible choices on everyone and raise the pressure until someone cracks. Second, the close ally: a friend or
love interest who challenges the protagonist’s assumptions. When that ally doubts or betrays the protagonist, the emotional fallout births new plot threads. Even minor players—an informant, a grieving parent, a scientist who reveals one little fact—act like gears that unlock a chapter or two.
What I love is that the people who move
the plot aren’t just plot devices; they’re complicated. The antagonist isn’t evil for evil’s sake, and the
Hero isn’t
flawless. That moral grey is what kept me turning pages late into the night, rooting for characters I wouldn’t always agree with.