Thrilling Tales Hub

By Brian Montross

What is it like to spend four days at Killer Nashville, named the #1 writers conference in the country by Writer’s Digest?

It is exhausting, inspiring, occasionally overwhelming—and, if you write mysteries and thrillers, a reminder that you are surrounded by some wonderfully normal people who have collectively killed an astonishing number of victims.

On paper, of course.

This was my second year at the Killer Nashville International Writers’ Conference, and once again I came home with far more than a notebook full of ideas.

I met world-class authors, bestsellers, doctors, detectives, FBI and CIA agents, professors, and first-time authors. I was there when a first-time author opened her first box of books—and I bought the very first copy. I’m honored by that!

What a strange, wonderfully diverse collection of writers we are. I learned about cozy mysteries (and what type of dog you should have), hard-boiled crime, police procedurals (from the real detectives), amateur sleuths, psychological suspense, romantic suspense—and an author who might try romantic gore. LOL.

I shared notes on historical mysteries, thrillers based on real technology, and news-driven plots. We told stories where someone gets poisoned over tea and stories where half the world may be destroyed before the last chapter. And the people writing them are just as varied.

I learned about the psychology of serial killers, how to craft the best villain, twists and turns, plots and pivots, and satisfying endings.

I shared motorcycle stories with a renowned author and talked plotting versus pantsing with others. I sat on panels as an expert, then walked into another room, opened my notebook, and listened to a lecture as a student. I laughed a lot. I nearly cried. And on more than one occasion, I simply sat there with my mouth open, wondering whether I had really just heard what I thought I heard.

That may be one of the things I enjoy most about Killer Nashville. There are people there who have written dozens of novels and people working on their first. Award winners sit beside unpublished authors. Detectives and agents talk with writers trying to figure out whether a body would really look like that after three days in a swamp. Nobody knows everything, and almost everyone is willing to share what they do know.

I learned that being a writer leaves a legacy. Writing changes people. Sometimes it changes the world. Sometimes it changes one reader. And sometimes the person it changes most is you.

One quote I’ll remember from Killer Nashville is this: “Somewhere, someone out there is waiting to read what I wrote.”

I came home thinking about that.

This year also carried a little extra meaning for me because The Forbidden Strain was a finalist for the 2026 Silver Falchion Award for Best Thriller. I was honored. I was shocked. And sitting there among the finalists and winners gave me another lesson I did not expect.

The winners are an exquisite group of storytellers. They are fantastic at their craft.

Congratulations to all the winners—and to everyone who showed up, shared what they knew, and helped make four days at Killer Nashville something worth remembering.

See you next year!