Matthew Peters

Some readers have asked why I've chosen the title The Ignoble Lie for my recently released thriller. Answering that question involves a look at the work of one of the world's greatest minds.

 

In his foundational work The Republic, the ancient Greek philosopher Plato introduced a concept that has intrigued, troubled, and inspired political thinkers for over two thousand years: the "noble lie." This was not a lie told in malice or manipulation, but a myth—intentionally crafted and disseminated by leaders to maintain social harmony and civic order.

 

 

Plato's "noble lie" was meant to convince citizens that their place in society was ordained by something greater than themselves. In his fictional city-state, rulers would tell the people that they were born from the Earth and infused with different kinds of metal in their souls—gold for leaders, silver for auxiliaries, and bronze or iron for workers. Though biologically false, this myth served a philosophical purpose: it offered a cohesive identity, a sense of belonging, and a rationale for social stratification. The lie was "noble" because it aimed to promote unity and the common good.

 

But what happens when a lie—no matter how well-intentioned—outlives its usefulness? What if the story we tell ourselves to keep order becomes a tool of oppression, or worse, a cover for deeper corruption?

 

That question lies at the heart of my novel, The Ignoble Lie.

 

In The Ignoble Lie, ex-Jesuit Scott Larson and adventuress Zady Jones uncover a secret buried deep beneath layers of myth, religious tradition, and political power. A terrorist attack on the Great Pyramid in Egypt sets off a global chain reaction that shakes Washington, D.C., where a controversial U.S. president has declared the nation a Judeo-Christian state.

 

As Larson and Jones try to stop more terrorist attacks, they begin to suspect that one of the most sacred objects in religious lore—the Ark of the Covenant—may not be what it seems. Their investigation leads them to question long-accepted historical "truths" and to confront the terrifying possibility that the most powerful institutions in the world are built on a lie. Not a noble one, but an ignoble one.

 

Plato believed that myths could bind people together. But in a modern world of surveillance, spin, and statecraft, can we still tell the difference between a guiding story and a dangerous fabrication? The Ignoble Lie plays with this tension, using the framework of a fast-paced thriller to explore philosophical questions about faith, history, and the narratives we cling to in order to make sense of the world.

 

Ultimately, The Ignoble Lie is not just a play on Plato's idea; it's a challenge to it. In an age when ancient myths and modern ideologies clash with deadly consequences, the novel asks: who gets to decide what the truth is? And what happens when the lie we've built our civilization upon begins to crumble?

 

 

I'd love to hear your thoughts.

 

Best,

Matthew

I read a lot of books and watch a lot of movies. Over the years, my personal preferences have shifted, but what's changed even more dramatically is how I view the entertainment industry—especially as it has evolved over the past decade.

 

Not long ago, the only books you could buy or movies you could watch came from the gatekeepers of mainstream media: major publishers like Random House and HarperCollins, and film giants like 20th Century Fox and MGM. The stories we consumed were filtered through a narrow lens, shaped by marketing departments and bottom-line concerns.

 

What's happened recently is something of a paradox. On one hand, the entertainment industry has become even more centralized, with a handful of massive multimedia conglomerates controlling most of what reaches the public. On the other hand, the self-publishing revolution and the rise of accessible digital filmmaking tools have cracked the door wide open for independent creators. Now, anyone with a story and some grit can publish a novel or make a film.

 

The result? A flood of content. And like any flood, the waters are mixed. Yes, the sheer quantity of books and films has skyrocketed—but not always the quality. Still, for every unpolished gem or forgettable release, there's something that simply couldn't have come from the mainstream system—something original, risky, or deeply personal.

 

That's where I believe the real value of indie storytelling lies: in its willingness to tell stories mainstream media often won't touch.

 

In indie books and films, we find narratives that challenge dominant worldviews or explore the lives of characters rarely centered in mainstream work. Here, you might find:

 

• A speculative novel about a woman priest navigating faith in a post-capitalist society.
• A historical drama focused not on kings and generals, but on a forgotten washerwoman whose small act of resistance changed her world.
• A sci-fi film where neurodivergence is portrayed not as a limitation, but as a superpower.
• A love story between two elderly protagonists rediscovering intimacy in a world that's all but written them off.
• A quiet, character-driven film about a long-term lesbian couple navigating the subtle grief of being erased in their adult children's retelling of family history.
• A gritty realist novel about a single father working night shifts at a meat-packing plant, trying to keep his undocumented neighbors safe during an ICE raid—where poverty isn't just background, but central to the characters' agency, dignity, and struggle.
• Or even a novel that challenges dominant religious and political paradigms.

 

These are stories that might never clear the corporate greenlighting process—but they exist because indie creators put them into the world.

 

Choosing to support independent media—when it's thoughtfully made and well-executed—is, in my view, a political act. Much like growing your own food or shopping local, it's a way of saying: I want more choice. I want more truth. I want more voices.

 

So don't let media conglomerates dictate what you see and read. There's a whole world of indie stories out there, waiting to surprise you.

 

Try indie. You just might like it.

 

All the best,

Matthew

After The Ignoble Lie was published, I expected a certain amount of backlash. It presents views that challenge the Judeo-Christian orthodoxy that's been at the heart of western civilization for millennia. Interestingly, opposition to the religious elements has been practically non-existent. Instead, one of the characters has come under criticism from more than one reviewer.  

 

Now when a female protagonist like Zady Jones—a brilliant, brave, emotionally complex woman navigating the perilous intersections of political intrigue, religious dogma, and personal trauma—is called "too masculine," it begs the question: what exactly do we expect from our heroines?

 

It's a critique I've seen crop up in a handful of Goodreads reviews. Zady is strong-willed, fiercely independent, analytical under pressure, and willing to take physical and moral risks. She doesn't defer. She doesn't apologize for taking up space. For some, those qualities seem to signal "masculine." But to me, they signal "human."

 

This critique isn't just about one character. It's about a broader, deeply ingrained discomfort with female characters who refuse to stay in the boxes traditionally reserved for them. For centuries, women in fiction were relegated to roles of nurturer, seductress, or sidekick. When women step outside those templates—when authors write women who are leaders, strategists, survivors, or warriors—they're often met with this vague accusation of being "too masculine," as if strength, courage, or emotional restraint can't belong to women. I imagine many women—and men—who write fantasy, which often depicts strong female characters, might encounter this criticism often. 

 

But why should gender define character traits? When a male protagonist is emotionally guarded or takes decisive action under threat, we call him compelling, layered, or gritty. When a woman does it, she's "hard to relate to." If she's assertive, she's "abrasive." If she fights, she's "aggressive." These double standards are not only outdated—they're artistically limiting.

 

Zady Jones was never written to conform to gender norms. She was written to live. She bleeds, she grieves, she wrestles with guilt, with love, with loss. She's not fearless—she's afraid, and still she acts. Her resilience isn't borrowed from masculinity; it's born of experience. It's shaped by what she's survived and what she still hopes to protect. That doesn't make her less feminine. It makes her real.

 

If anything, Zady embodies a broader vision of femininity—one that is expansive rather than confined. She contains multitudes. She can be loyal and stubborn, intuitive and skeptical, vulnerable and unyielding. She's allowed to be all these things because women are all these things, something my wife teaches me every day, by her words and by her deeds.

 

Criticism is part of being a writer. I welcome it. I listen. And I reflect on what it reveals—not just about the character, but about the cultural lens we bring to storytelling. When readers say Zady feels too masculine, I don't hear an insult. I hear a challenge: to keep writing women who are unapologetically themselves, regardless of how easily they fit into familiar molds.

 

Zady Jones is not a man in disguise. She's a woman defined on her own terms. And if that makes some readers uncomfortable, maybe it's time we asked why.

 

I'd love to hear your thoughts.

 

Best,

Matthew

I've always been a hard-headed person, someone reluctant to take advice or learn from others without first trying (and often failing) myself. So let me just say that you are more than welcome to ignore what follows. Though I do make some generalizations, they are based upon my knowledge of authors and my experiences in the publishing world. I'm fully aware there are exceptional cases that fly in the face of what I'm about to say. If you're extremely talented and very lucky, success might come quickly. One final caveat: what I'm about to say applies to novels; non-fiction as well as other fictional forms are different animals entirely.   

 

If you're like me when I started out, you think writing fiction can't be too hard—lots of people do it. Not only that, but some do it poorly and make a fortune. But writing is a marathon, not a sprint. It took me several years to get all the bad writing out of my system. Writing is not some get-rich-quick scheme. In fact, for most authors it's a very poorly compensated hobby. If you have hopes of breaking into the publishing world with a contract from one of the Big Five publishers, you are bound to be sorely disappointed. Does it happen? Certainly. After all, some people win Powerball…

 

The odds are good your writing career will go something like this: You write one, two or ten really bad novels. Then, after you've finally put aside your conviction that there must be something wrong with every living soul in the publishing world, you decide to improve your writing. You do this by reading books on the craft, taking classes, networking with writers online and at conferences, reading all the great literature you can get your hands on, and practicing as much as you can. At some point (many points, in my case), you'll convince yourself you've written a novel that would turn F. Scott Fitzgerald green with envy. Now, you tell yourself, you're ready to land an agent. And so you start querying agent after agent after agent, only to find they have no interest in representing you. 

 

 

 

After some amount of time goes by, and you have worked extremely diligently, you might garner the interest of a small publisher. Oh happy day! When this happens, it's time to celebrate. So now it's time to sign the contract, sit back, and start collecting, right? Oh, how I wish! If you're lucky enough to be accepted by a small, reputable publisher, that's when the fun really starts because now you're faced with the daunting prospect of marketing your book. I used to suffer from what I like to call FODS, or Field of Dreams Syndrome, characterized by the (oh so) delusional belief that if you write it, readers will come.

 

The fact of the matter is if you're a new author, odds are good you'll have trouble giving your book away, let alone charging money for it. If you don't believe me, go to Amazon and type in "free Kindle books." If you still think I'm pessimistic, let's consider things from a reader's perspective. As Nick Morgan of Forbes wrote awhile back, "There are somewhere between 600,000 and 1,000,000 books published every year in the U.S. alone, depending on which stats you believe." Approximately half are self-published, and the overwhelming majority will never sell more than 250 copies.

 

Why? Even when you put factors like poor writing aside, readers simply don't have the time to cull the herd in search of new books/authors they might be interested in. So what do they do? Purchase books by authors they know, or at least have heard of. And how do you "hear" of a writer? Usually in one of two ways: someone you know recommends them or you've seen them plastered all over mainstream media. Please note the two are not mutually exclusive. Most authors that get recommended are those who are plastered all over mainstream media. Unless you're an avid bookworm, 99.9% of the authors out there will remain forever unknown to you.

 

  

      

Let's say your book is picked up by a small publisher. Surely, the publisher will do all the promoting necessary to ensure huge sales of your book, right? Wrong! Small publishers have few if any funds to devote to advertising. Getting your book out there is essentially up to you. And if you think this dearth of advertising is characteristic of small presses only, think again. Even the Big Five are reluctant to spend much money on a debut author.

 

What does that mean? Unless you are truly a hen's tooth, you'll be responsible for getting the word out when it comes to your book. The good news is that social media makes it easier than ever to advertise your book. The bad news is that social media makes it easier than ever to advertise your book. In my experience, Facebook, Bluesky, Instagram, and just about any other means of spreading the digital word are ineffective in generating book sales if you go about it alone. This isn't to say you won't sell any copies this way, but my guess is you'll be seriously disappointed in the results if you rely solely on such methods.

 

The good news is there are ways to increase your sales. One is Bookbub. I suggest you waste no time in checking out this service. Once you sign up (it's free), you'll get a daily email telling you about deeply discounted books (free, $0.99, $1.99 or $2.99) in your areas of interest. If you apply for a promotion and get accepted, your book will be featured for one day in a daily news blast and on the Bookbub website. It's very hard to get accepted and, if you do, it will set you back several hundred dollars, but it's usually more than worth the cost. And you don't have to pay for the application—only if you're accepted. I wish I could tell you how to increase your chances of getting accepted. Many articles have been written about it, and I urge you to do a Google search and learn all you can. Apparently, reviews, a strong cover, and the book's anticipated appeal to readers are among the factors considered. There are other services like Bookbub that do essentially the same thing, but with a much smaller reach and a much cheaper price tag. Among these, I have found the Fussy Librarian helpful in selling books.

 

 

If you have any questions about any of these, please reply in the comments or feel free to message me via the contact page.

  

I wish you much success and, even more, enjoyment in your writing career.

 

Best,

Matthew       

In the crowded world of publishing, thousands of books compete for readers' attention every day. Book reviews play a crucial role in determining which stories rise to the surface. For authors—especially independent or debut writers—reviews are far more than just feedback. They're powerful tools that impact visibility, credibility, and even future publishing opportunities.

 

Book reviews help other readers discover a book. When browsing for something new to read, many potential readers turn to reviews to guide their decisions. A well-written review offers a glimpse into the story's tone, characters, and emotional impact without giving away spoilers. It tells prospective readers, "This book is worth your time," or helps them determine if it's the right fit for their tastes. For an author, that kind of endorsement—especially from someone with no personal connection—builds trust and lends authenticity to the work.

 

Reviews also help boost a book's visibility. Amazon, Goodreads, and Barnes & Noble often use algorithms that favor books with more engagement. A higher number of reviews—even if they're mixed—can push a book into more search results, recommendation lists, and "readers also enjoyed" categories. This kind of algorithmic promotion is invaluable and often determines whether a book gets discovered at all.

 

Reviews provide crucial motivation and validation. Writing a book is an enormous undertaking that often takes years. Once published, the silence that follows can be deafening if no feedback comes in. Reviews—whether glowing or constructive—reassure the author that the book is being read, considered, and talked about. Positive reviews, especially, can give authors the confidence to keep writing, while critical but fair feedback can help them grow and improve in their craft.

 

Reviews play an essential role in the business side of publishing. Publishers, agents, bookstores, and literary festivals often look at the number and quality of reviews when deciding whether to support or promote an author. A book that generates discussion and garners thoughtful responses is seen as a better investment. Even traditional publishers now expect authors to help drive engagement, and a robust review presence can open doors to future contracts, speaking opportunities, and collaborations.

 

Reviews also serve as a form of community-building. They allow readers and writers to connect in meaningful ways, turning solitary reading experiences into shared conversations. When readers leave reviews, they become part of the author's journey—champions of the work, helping spread the word and keeping the book alive in public discourse.

 

Reviews are vital to an author's success, growth, and morale. They're not just star ratings or numerical tallies—they're the lifeblood of a book's journey in the world. So, if you've enjoyed The Ignoble Lie, please take a moment to write a review, even if it's something as simple as "Great book!" You might think your words won't matter, but they mean everything. Trust me on that. Especially when it comes to a book as potentially controversial as The Ignoble Lie. Because believe me, there are a lot of haters out there. And at the end of the day, the purpose of the book is to bring people together, not separate them by artificial constructs that have only served to perpetuate hatred and division throughout the centuries and have been exploited by leaders whose power rests on fanning the flames of division between people to keep them from realizing they have more in common than what separates them. 

 

Best,

Matthew

So, you clicked here, did you? Well, good for you…sort of.

 

Let me start off by making a disclaimer or a full disclosure (can anyone tell me if there's a difference between the two?). First, this post is a little long. Second, you may not agree with or like everything I'm about to say. Third, I'm writing this because I actually care about writers like you, or at least that's my honest-to-goodness reason for hammering out this post. Fourth, and related to all of the above, I probably need to hear it as much if not more than you.  

 

Okay, enough of the preliminaries. I thought I might grab your attention with my catchy title (you often have to pat yourself on the back when you're a writer, because your publisher, editor, agent, and readers aren't always up for it). Then I figured I'd offer my insights into what you should really do when you're having a hard time writing, whether it be from writer's block, fatigue, lack of inspiration, or the itty bitty shitty committee that lives in your head and tells you that your writing sucks.

 

 

But wait! you might protest. Why take advice from a guy who has only one book on the market? Well, let me say a few things in my defense. First, there are thousands of writers out there (a rather conservative estimate) who give advice and/or publish how-to books on what to do when you're stuck in your writing who haven't many published books to their credit. So let's just say I'm in ___________company (I'll let you fill in the blank).

 

In fact, I've read so much of this advice and so many of these books (in case you're keeping track, this is the second point in my defense), that I feel warranted—no, I'd go with "darn near compelled"—to say something on the topic. Yes, friends, from Aristotle's Poetics, E.M. Forster's Aspects of the Novel (rewind if you missed the quantum leap) and Brenda Ueland's If You Want to Write, to more recent stuff by the likes of Dwight Swain (Techniques of the Selling Writer), Larry Brooks (Story Engineering), James Scott Bell (Plot & Structure), Ann Lamott (Bird by Bird), Natalie Goldberg (Writing Down the Bones) and a slew of others, I've read the gamut of writing books. So maybe that puts me in a place where what I have to say on the topic at least qualifies me to…well, at least not to say anything too stupid.

 

I know, I know. You're saying, "Well hell, Matthew, you've already gone and done that," to which I'd heartily concur and slap my head in Homer-Simpson-like fashion ("Doh"!). Nonetheless, I remain undaunted in my effort to (eventually) get to the point. Now I hear your chorus of, "Oh, please, God, soon!" so I'll make this a little shorter than I'd intended.

 

My ultimate point is this: If you're having a hard time writing, the best solution I can offer (after years of reading about writing much more than I've actually written) is to write. I've discovered via that long and winding road (and strawberry fields forever, man) that when you're a writer, the answer to most questions/issues concerning writing can be found by doing one thing: writing. Now, if you're completely burned out (and only you can tell if you are), or forcibly restrained, this does not hold, I repeat: this does not hold. But short of these exceptions, the general rule seems to be that, when in doubt, write. In fact, when you're not in doubt, write. Actually, I think there are only two times when you should write: when you feel like it, and when you don't. Even if you don't actually use what you write in your work in progress (WIP), having something on paper, to me at least, sure beats having nothing on paper.

 

But what if you simply can't write? What if all the gods, fates, and furies have combined to still your pen (or keyboard tap)? Toss concerns about a daily writing quota out the window and take the one-word challenge. What is that, you might ask? Just what it says it is: challenge yourself to write the next word in your WIP. That's right, just one word. My sneaking suspicion is that the one word might lead to another (but don't tell yourself that or you might freeze up). Try this. You might be surprised at the results.

 

 

At the end of the day, am I telling you not to read books on writing? No. I would never tell you to do or not to do anything. There are certain books out there I've found essential to keep me sane as a writer and a human being, and that help prime the pump when my creative juices freeze into a popsicle. If you're wondering what those books are, please see the books I mentioned earlier (maybe with the exception of E.M. Forster's book—I just couldn't get that one to work). Are there other good books out there on writing? Certainly. I just mentioned the ones that I can't do without. Your choices may be different. But I also know that writing books on writing is to some people a lucrative business, one that preys on our insecurities. So I think we need to be selective in the books we choose to help develop our craft, and to realize that, once we've got the fundamentals of writing down, often the solution to our writing problems is to keep on writing.

  

There are a million excuses not to write, but the creativity we use in coming up with such justifications and rationalizations would be better served furthering our WIPs. So the stark naked realization I've come to is that 99 out of 100 times, writing is the best solution to my writing problems. The boldness, starkness, and simplicity of this statement may catch some unaware or cause others to say, "Well, of course"! It's kind of like saying the answer to your smoking addiction is to stop smoking, and the solution to your drinking problem is to quit drinking. But ultimately, these ARE the answers, and, however simple and painful they are, they exist whether we want to acknowledge them or not. It's taken me a long time to realize this, and a longer time to implement it, so I needed to put it out there. I hope it helps someone.

 

I'll sign off with the words of Brenda Ueland. They've often provided me with the inspiration to keep writing and to remember that writing can be joyous:

 

You should feel when writing, not like Lord Byron on a mountain top,

but like a child stringing beads in kindergarten—happy, absorbed and quietly

putting one bead on after another.

 

All the best,

Matthew

Ancient Egypt plays an important role in The Ignoble Lie, as those who've read the book are well aware. This civilization that seems older than time has fascinated people throughout history. But why? And what did I find so important about this civilization that I wrote a novel about its influence?

 

Ancient Egypt constructed a number of architectural marvels that have defied time. The pyramids of Giza, where The Ignoble Lie opens, represent an unparalleled mastery of engineering and construction. The Great Pyramid, built for Pharaoh Khufu around 2580 BCE, originally stood 481 feet tall and required an estimated 2.3 million stone blocks, some weighing up to 15 tons. The tip of this pyramid was originally coated in gold, which would have shined magnificently in the desert sun. The inside of the pyramid is constructed so well, you can't fit a credit card between the stone blocks. People still debate the use of such vast structures, for they are mostly devoid of internal features. In addition to the pyramids, the ancient Egyptians built spectacular temples at Karnak and Luxor. These showcased innovative techniques like the use of columns, obelisks, and complex inner chambers that influenced architectural traditions across the Mediterranean world.

 

 

Ancient Egypt also witnessed great strides in medicine, mathematics, and science. Egyptian doctors performed complex procedures including cataract surgery, dental work, and primitive forms of brain surgery. Egyptian mathematicians and astronomers developed a decimal number system and calculated the length of the solar year to 365.25 days, creating a calendar system that required only minor adjustments to remain accurate. They mapped constellations, predicted eclipses, and developed sophisticated tools for timekeeping.

 

The invention of hieroglyphic writing preserved Egyptian literature, religious texts, and historical records for posterity, and art of this great civilization established principles of symmetry and proportion that continue to inspire artists today.

 

For centuries, the predominant view has been that the foundations of western philosophy were established in ancient Greece, and it is that civilization to which we owe our greatest intellectual debt. Names like Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle have become so linked in our minds with the origins of philosophic and mathematic inquiry that there seems little doubt these incredible minds were the antecedents of our intellectual pursuits throughout subsequent millennia. While this is indeed the conventional view, an argument can be made that Greek philosophy has its roots in ancient Egypt. Some go so far as to call the attribution of the foundations of western thinking and culture to ancient Greece a grave misappropriation, and that like the emergence of homo sapiens, the origins of philosophic thought belong to the African continent.

       

All of these accomplishments, and many others, account for our fascination with ancient Egypt. But it is their achievement of one ancient Egyptian in the field of religion that especially interested me. I won't say anything in case you haven't read The Ignoble Lie, but suffice it to say that the implications are no less than revolutionary. 

 

Best,
Matthew

Novels can be more than just entertainment—they can be mirrors held up to society, tools of persuasion, and vehicles for change. With the turn of a page, fiction can take us into the minds of people with vastly different experiences than our own, transport us to unfamiliar places, and introduce us to ideas that challenge, inspire, and even transform our worldview. History has shown that a novel can do far more than move a reader emotionally; it can move the world itself.

 

Probably the most famous example of such a novel is Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe. Published in 1852, this anti-slavery novel didn't just tell a powerful story—it galvanized the abolitionist movement in the United States. By portraying the brutal realities of slavery through deeply human characters, Stowe helped awaken the conscience of a nation.

 

Another transformative novel is 1984 by George Orwell. Published in 1949, Orwell's dystopian vision warned of the dangers of intensive surveillance long before such fears became widespread in the digital age. Of course, the totalitarianism that Orwell highlighted had recently become manifest in countries like Germany and the Soviet Union, but his warnings have only gained credence as the years have passed and seem particularly relevant in today's society.

 

Other examples of novels that have had an impact on the real world include To Kill a Mockingbird, The Handmaid's Tale, and The Kite Runner. I'm sure you can think of many others, and I'd love to hear about the novels you think have had a big effect on the world.

 

Such books are the kinds of novels that interest me the most. In writing The Ignoble Lie, I tried to contribute to societal debate on the one of the most important issues facing us today, namely the role of religion in politics. I won't give anything away for those who haven't read the novel, but it rests, ultimately, on an attempt to bring people together, rather than drive them further apart, because I think that despite our obvious differences, we have more in common than we think.

 

Most people desire food, clothing, and shelter, and the chance for their loved ones to have meaningful lives. These goals may exist on the low end of Maslow's hierarchy, but that's just the point. Until basic needs are met, higher order needs (e.g., esteem and self-actualization) are irrelevant. This is the fundamental problem with politics in the United States. Both parties have lost sight of the fact that the majority of people are just trying to get by. The partisanship that has poisoned society is the fault of both sides and does nothing but keep us divided when we should all be working together to give ourselves and each other the best chance at living rewarding lives.

 

This is the spirit in which The Ignoble Lie was written. I think it is time there are more stories that try to bring people together and attempt to provide answers to real-world problems instead of simply distracting people from the difficulties in their lives.

Political-religious (pol-rel) thrillers are a fascinating genre. They blend the intrigue of secret histories, hidden agenda, ancient texts, and power struggles to create stories that if written effectively, captivate readers. But for these stories to truly grip audiences, they must rest on a foundation of historical plausibility. They don't necessarily have to be true, but they could be true. And the more these stories could be true the more they seem to fascinate us.

 

Historical plausibility doesn't mean the story has to stick rigidly to historical fact or avoid imaginative leaps. Rather, it means that the events, characters, and settings are anchored in a world that could have been or at least feels like it could have been. What this entails as an author is a tremendous amount of research into various aspects of the story you're trying to tell. Without solid grounding in history, religion, and politics, the narrative risks becoming either absurd, or, worse, disrespectful to the real-life histories and traditions it touches.

 

Take, for example, Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code. While the book plays fast and loose with many historical facts, it is deeply steeped in real art, architecture, religious history and longstanding cultural legends—perhaps the most interesting of which is the Merovingian Dynasty, which, some allege, included the bloodline of Jesus. In his novel, Brown creates a framework that feels plausible even if his plot twists leap into the realm of fantasy. Readers are hooked because they can almost believe there could be hidden codes in Da Vinci's paintings (after all, the guy was a genius polymath!), or secret bloodlines of Jesus hidden by shadowy groups. The story's success and its global appeal depend on a delicate balance between imagination and historical grounding.

 

I employ a similar method in The Ignoble Lie. Without giving anything away, the novel delves deep into ancient history and looks at the creation of monotheism and explores a way through which such a belief might've come into existence. The belief in one God, of course, fostered the development of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, with huge implications for the world. Certain narratives have grown up surrounding the origins of these faiths and have been codified in mainstream religion. Whether such narratives are true in a historical sense, however, is a different matter…

   

With regard to political and religious issues, the term "conspiracy theory" is often tossed around (usually with a pejorative connotation), whenever people mention ideas outside the mainstream. Some people feel conspiracy theories only belong in novels and movies or should be applied to the beliefs of those who aren't exactly "playing with a full deck." But in some cases, the term "conspiracy theory" should be replaced by the term "alternative theory." Except for the most outlandish notions, alternative theories provide competing explanations for why something is the way it is, explanations that aren't accepted by most people. These exist along a continuum that ranges from the fanciful on one end, to the plausible on the other. My belief is that pol-rel thrillers that fall on the latter end of the spectrum are inherently more interesting than those that are more fanciful in nature. The drawback, from the author's perspective, and the reader's, is that it takes a good deal of time and energy to construct such a plausible novel.

 

But historical plausibility also matters because it respects the intelligence of the reader. Thriller readers are often sharp, curious, and eager to engage not just with the plot but with the world the author presents. Such readers don't suffer fools gladly, and inaccuracies are not well tolerated, nor should they be. Moreover, pol-rel thrillers often tap into real anxieties and fascinations: the relationship between faith and power, the corruptibility of religious institutions, or the tension between personal belief and public policy. In the U.S. the question of what role religion should play in public policy is always front and center. These are weighty themes, and when handled with historical care, they give the novel greater depth and resonance. A well-researched backdrop makes the stakes feel real and the ethical dilemmas more compelling.

 

In short, for pol-rel thrillers to succeed, historical plausibility isn't just a bonus—it's crucial. It's the bridge between imagination and believability, allowing readers to lose themselves in the story while feeling the weight of the past pressing against the present.

 

At the end of the day, I believe in writing (and reading) books that reflect on the real world and the issues that confront our society. We live in tumultuous times, times that often feel like things are happening outside our control. Our minds are the one thing we do have control over. Engaging our minds, exposing ourselves to different perspectives, keeps us growing as people, and leads to tolerance and greater acceptance of others. And in this day and age, I think we desperately need that.

        

I'm eager to hear your thoughts.

 

Until next time,

Matthew  

Hello and welcome! I'm so glad you're here.

 

This blog marks the beginning of an exciting new chapter—not just in my writing journey, but in how I connect with readers like you. However you got here—by chance or on purpose—thanks for stopping by. This space is where stories come alive beyond the page, where ideas are shared, and where conversations about mystery and storytelling take center stage.

 

Why start this blog? Well, writing a thriller is a solitary pursuit, sometimes seemingly endless hours of plotting, writing, editing, and second-guessing every plot point. But stories are meant to be shared and now that The Ignoble Lie is out in the world, I wanted to create a space where we could dive deeper together. Consider this blog our shared coffee shop table, where we talk about the hows and whys of the novel, the secrets between the lines, and even what might be next. The Ignoble Lie is the first book in a series I hope to continue for a while.

 

But I want this blog to do more. Sure, I'd love to talk about the book. I mean, what author doesn't want to discuss their literary child? But there are other topics I'd like to delve into, and these aren't limited to writing. I love movies. My collection right now consists of more than 5,000 titles. I'd love to hear about your favorite movie, what it is you like about it, and the meaning it holds for you. Disclosure: I'm an avid fan of horror movies, but my interests are wide-ranging. Recommendations are always appreciated.

 

In addition, listening to music is integral to my life. I do it while writing, and just about any other time I can. I enjoy most genres of music, from classical to heavy metal, and I'm always on the lookout for a new group or album to check out. I'd love to hear recommendations of stuff you enjoy.

 

And, of course, I want to hear about what you're reading and what books you'd recommend to others.

 

But let's go back to my book for a minute…

 

If you've already started reading The Ignoble Lie, thank you. And if you haven't, don't worry, there's no pressure. I will say that the novel is highly controversial and, like all books (fiction and non-fiction), should be read with a grain of salt. As a result, I have found that some readers love the book, while others find parts of it uncomfortable, and perhaps challenging to some of their core beliefs. I completely understand and respect this diversity of opinions, and I am happy to openly discuss the reactions readers have to the claims put forth by characters in the novel. My only requirement is that such discussions take place in a respectful and polite manner. I also would like to point out that at the end of the day, the novel is just that, a novel, and should be treated as such. I will also be sure to mark any comments/discussions with spoiler-alerts if warranted.

 

What to Expect Here

 

Here's a little of what you can expect from the blog going forward:

 

Discussion Posts: Open-ended questions, scene breakdowns, and reader theories.

 

Behind-the-Scenes: Notes on the writing process, research insights, and anything else that's on my mind at the time.

 

Q&As and Reader Spotlights: I'll be answering your questions and highlighting thoughtful comments.

 

Sneak Peeks: Be the first to hear about upcoming projects, new book news, and some bonus features.

 

Other Stuff: Talk of writing, reading, marketing, books, movies, and more.

 

 

Join the Conversation

 

I want this to be an interactive space more than anything, so don't be shy (coming from an introvert, this admonition is not without irony)—comment, ask questions, and share your thoughts. If you've got an idea for future blog topics or want me to elaborate on something from the book, please let me know. This is a space for readers and writers alike, and your voice matters here.

 

Thanks for being part of this journey. I can't wait to see where it takes us!

 

Until next time,

Matthew

 

P.S. I'd love you to join me on Bluesky as well!

@matthewpetersitw.bsky.social