The Camera and the Storm: How Photography Shaped the Storytelling in SEETHINGS

Writers often borrow tools from other crafts when building stories. Some use music, others painting, others architecture. When I wrote SEETHINGS, I leaned heavily on something I knew well: photography.

Photography didn’t simply appear in the book as a hobby for Mitchell Felding. It became part of the storytelling framework. The way Mitchell photographs storms mirrors the way the narrative itself unfolds. The camera, the lightning, the waiting, and the sudden flash of revelation all helped shape how the story reveals its darker layers.

The result is that photography in SEETHINGS is not just background colour. It is a structural device.

A Photographer’s Mindset

Before becoming immersed in writing, I spent many years behind cameras. Photography teaches a way of seeing that becomes difficult to switch off. When you look through a viewfinder, you are constantly asking questions:

What belongs in the frame?

What should be left outside it?

Where is the light coming from?

What is about to happen?

A photographer learns patience and anticipation. You stand in a place, camera ready, waiting for a moment that might arrive suddenly and vanish just as quickly.

That mindset is exactly how I approached the pacing of SEETHINGS.

The story does not begin with explosions or dramatic reveals. Instead, it slowly frames a world: neighbourhoods, marriages, friendships, polite conversations over dinner. Everything appears ordinary. Calm, even.

But like a photographer watching a storm cloud, the narrative is quietly waiting for something else to happen.

Mitchell and the Storm

Mitchell’s interest in photographing lightning storms reflects this mindset perfectly.

Lightning photography is one of the most frustrating and rewarding types of photography. You can prepare everything perfectly—tripod, exposure, composition—yet nothing happens. You wait. The sky flickers with distant lightning, but nothing enters your frame.

Then suddenly the sky splits open.

A bright fork tears across the clouds, illuminating everything for a fraction of a second.

If you were ready, you capture it.

If you weren’t, the moment is gone forever.

That experience of waiting for sudden revelation mirrors the structure of SEETHINGS. Much of the story builds quietly beneath the surface, allowing the reader to observe the characters in ordinary settings before flashes of deeper truth appear.

The Frame and the Mask

Photography also carries another useful storytelling lesson: every photograph hides something.

The frame shows what the photographer chooses to include, but everything outside the frame still exists. The viewer never sees it.

Human beings operate in a similar way. We present selected versions of ourselves to the world. The rest remains outside the frame.

This idea sits at the heart of SEETHINGS.

Mitchell appears respectable, composed, even friendly. He moves comfortably within social spaces—marriages, neighbourhood conversations, shared meals. If someone were to take a photograph of those moments, nothing would appear unusual.

The frame would show a normal life.

But the novel gradually reveals what lies outside that frame.

The reader begins to understand that what appears calm and civilised may be concealing something much darker. Just as a photograph can crop out inconvenient details, social life often hides uncomfortable truths.

The Storm as Metaphor

Mitchell doesn’t just photograph storms. He also associates storms with desire.

Lightning fascinates him because it represents the sudden release of enormous energy that has been building invisibly inside clouds. Long before the strike appears, electrical tension is accumulating.

This idea became an important metaphor in the book.

Many characters in SEETHINGS appear calm on the surface. Conversations remain polite. Relationships maintain a sense of order. Yet beneath those interactions, tensions quietly accumulate.

The story is less about dramatic action than it is about pressure building beneath appearances.

Like a storm cloud, the narrative gathers energy slowly.

And when lightning finally appears, it changes how the reader understands everything that came before it.

Observation as Power

Another lesson photography provides is the value of observation.

Photographers often stand slightly apart from events. They watch. They study body language, expressions, and gestures. They learn to recognise moments before they fully form.

This observational stance influenced how Mitchell is written.

He is attentive. Quietly analytical. He studies people the way a photographer studies a scene. Small details matter: a glance across a room, a pause in conversation, a subtle shift in posture.

By placing readers inside that observational mindset, the narrative encourages them to look more closely at the characters themselves.

Instead of rushing forward, the story slows down and asks the reader to notice what is happening in the margins.

The Flash of Revelation

Lightning photography also teaches something else: when the moment finally arrives, it is sudden and decisive.

You can wait for hours watching a dark sky. The landscape remains almost invisible in the darkness. Then a lightning strike erupts, and suddenly everything is illuminated.

Mountains, clouds, trees, buildings—all appear in stark clarity for a brief instant.

The storytelling in SEETHINGS uses a similar rhythm.

Large sections of the narrative unfold quietly, giving readers the chance to observe everyday life. But occasionally something happens that illuminates the underlying psychology of the story.

These moments act like lightning flashes.

For a brief instant, the reader sees everything clearly. Then the narrative returns to its quieter state, leaving the reader to reflect on what they have just witnessed.

Patience in the Narrative

Modern thrillers often rely on rapid pacing and constant action. That approach can be exciting, but it leaves little room for atmosphere.

SEETHINGS moves differently.

The story allows tension to develop slowly. Characters interact in ways that seem natural and unremarkable. Conversations unfold in living rooms, gardens, and dining spaces.

But just like a storm photographer watching the sky, the narrative knows that something is forming.

The calm is not the whole story.

This patience allows the novel’s psychological elements to develop naturally. Instead of being told what to fear, the reader gradually begins to sense it.

Photography as Storytelling Structure

Looking back, I realise that photography influenced not just individual scenes but the overall structure of the book.

The storytelling process followed several principles that photographers recognise immediately.

Framing
The narrative carefully selects what the reader sees and when they see it.

Waiting
Moments of tension are allowed to develop rather than being forced prematurely.

Observation
Small behavioural details carry meaning and foreshadow future revelations.

Illumination
Sudden insights appear like lightning flashes, briefly exposing deeper truths.

This approach allowed the story to unfold in a way that feels natural yet unsettling.

Readers often realise that something significant has been revealed only after the moment has passed.

The Result for the Reader

Using photography as a storytelling framework creates a particular reading experience.

Instead of racing through dramatic events, readers watch the story unfold. They begin noticing details. Conversations start to carry more weight. Ordinary interactions feel slightly different.

The effect is subtle but powerful.

Readers are no longer simply following a plot. They are observing a psychological landscape, much like a photographer studying a scene through a lens.

And when those flashes of revelation arrive, they feel earned.

The reader understands that the moment did not appear out of nowhere. It was forming quietly all along.

The Storm Beneath the Surface

In many ways, SEETHINGS is a story about hidden energy.

Storm clouds build electrical charge long before lightning appears. From a distance, the sky may look calm and harmless. Only later does the full force of the storm reveal itself.

Human psychology works in similar ways.

People carry tensions, desires, and impulses that may remain invisible for long periods. They move through daily life appearing composed and ordinary.

But beneath that surface, something may be gathering.

Photography gave me a language to explore that idea.

The camera frame, the waiting, the sudden flash of lightning—all became tools that helped shape how the story reveals its darker elements.

Seeing What Others Miss

At its core, photography is about seeing what others might overlook.

The photographer stands quietly, paying attention to small shifts in light and movement. Eventually, a moment appears that transforms an ordinary scene into something unforgettable.

Writing SEETHINGS followed the same principle.

The story does not rely on exaggerated villains or sensational situations. Instead, it examines ordinary environments—homes, relationships, social interactions—and looks more closely at what might be happening beneath them.

Sometimes the most revealing moments arrive quietly.

And sometimes, like lightning tearing through a storm cloud, they illuminate far more than anyone expected to see.

–Michael (Dark fiction. Author of SEETHINGS (the first book), free for a limited time)