I Wrote a Book About Delusions. Then I Started Having Them Myself (Exclusive)

I’m terrified of this age of misinformation we’re trapped in, the persistent online attacks on facts and settled science. For me, it’s deeply disturbing to see these lies snake their way into daily conversation, causing rifts among people I love. I’ve watched friends hold onto a lie in the face of contrary evidence because they like the lie, because it benefits them; then they believe the lie. But that’s when it becomes a delusion.

My fear of this constant manipulation of the truth was the driving force behind my new psychological thriller. I thought I was qualified to write about the delusions that persist among friends. I’d been a journalist in Washington, D.C. and heard my share of probably every kind of lie and imagined I understood the psychology behind them. Then a family tragedy struck, and I found out fast that I knew nothing.

At the time, I was hip-deep into my manuscript about four best friends living in a shared Georgetown house that appears glamorous from the outside, while inside, things are already shifting, breaking, like the women who live there. One character, because of their own trauma, can’t tolerate a lie, while another character has a secret too terrible to face. This felt so real to me. How often in my job as a journalist had I seen people unable to put words to a trauma?

I finished the manuscript draft, happy I’d gotten the psychology right (or so I thought). I titled the novel Watch Us Fall. Then the unthinkable happened: My brother-in-law Paul fell on the Appalachian Trail. 

Here’s the first thing to understand: I married into a big, happy, close-knit family who’ve embraced me with more love than I’d imagined possible. My husband, Joe, is the middle child of eight. Paul was the youngest, Joe’s baby brother, the entertainer of the family — a community theater actor and director, member of the church choir, the last guy to leave any party. He looked like my husband and was like Joe in so many ways — a terrific father and husband, nature-lover and experienced outdoorsman. In the summer of 2022, Paul began his hike on the Appalachian Trail. 

The accident happened on Loft Mountain in Virginia, late one August night, or in the dark hours of the morning, after Paul made camp. Beyond that, how or why it happened, we’ll never know. I tend to think Paul went out onto the overlook to stargaze. That night, the sky had been clear. The planets were aligned that summer. What we do know: he’d fallen from a height and struck his head. At daybreak, a park ranger heard Paul’s call for help. He was medivacked to University of Virginia’s hospital, where doctors treated him in their head trauma ICU. What happened after that gets dark, confused in memory. 

Was it only weeks that Paul was in the hospital? It felt like years. My husband was a hero. He stood with Paul’s wife, Pam. We love Pam so much and wanted to help in whatever way she needed. So Joe met with the doctors every day and took charge of disbursing Paul’s medical information to our big, grieving family. 

Outside the ER and in Paul’s hospital room, I edited my book — or tried to anyway. I had to be there for Pam and my husband, and even though my gracious, wonderful editor gave me an extension, the book still had to get done. Even now, the soundtrack in my head to Watch Us Fall is the beep of hospital monitors and doctors explaining the gravity of injury and someone whispering, “Come on Paul, wake up,” while someone else squeezes his hand. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can still hear the rotor blades of the next medevac coming in. 

All the while, a dangerous idea began to take hold. I’d written Watch Us Fall, then Paul fell. Had I somehow dreamt this terrible thing into happening? Did I break my family’s collective heart? Will my family hate me when they read it? Will I lose Joe? The idea festered. I felt so much shame. But I didn’t tell anyone. I’d become a writer afraid of my own voice. 

Months after Paul died from his head injury, I woke up in the darkest part of the night jolted by a powerful new thought: You’re acting nuts. Why are you thinking these nutso thoughts? 

Take PEOPLE with you! Subscribe to PEOPLE magazine to get the latest details on celebrity news, exclusive royal updates, how-it-happened true crime stories and more — right to your mailbox.

I remember lying in the dark, shocked, thinking clearly for the first time since the accident happened. Here are the facts, I told myself. A book can’t cause an accident. You can’t dream anything into happening. If your thoughts were oh-so-powerful, then why didn’t your prayers and those of your whole family and all Paul’s friends bring him back? You will never know why. You never had any power to stop or start anything that happened on that mountain. 

And then, an even more stunning thought: Any thought to the contrary is a delusion, it’s grief. 

Delusion is tied to grief. You’re grieving. 

Why I’d turned so viciously on myself, I still have no idea. But that morning I got up and edited a scene with characters I could finally see and hear again. Yes, yes, I know you don’t know you’re grieving, I’d say to those characters. But you will. 

As I settled in for the final edits, I was feeling the book deeply, the characters more compassionately. It became a better, more insightful book. Beyond my desk, I looked out into the real world and saw so many people hurting like my family had been hurt. Sometimes when I hear a person repeat a ridiculous lie or even one that scares me, I wonder: what terrible grief are you hiding from? I hope the ordeal has made me kinder. 

My mom and Joe are helping me plan the party for the book’s launch. It’s a big family affair. Joe gave an early copy to his dad, who says I’m his new favorite author — yay! Pam finished it on a flight and refused to deplane until she got to the end. All my fears had been so silly. I see that now. 

I wish Paul were here. He loved a party. I imagine him making his big, theatrical entrance, holding my book aloft. He’d tell me to turn Watch Us Fall into a musical. Make him the lead, he’d say. 

Never miss a story — sign up for PEOPLE’s free daily newsletter to stay up-to-date on the best of what PEOPLE has to offer​​, from celebrity news to compelling human interest stories.

Watch Us Fall is on sale Dec. 2 and is available now for preorder, wherever books are sold.