When I set out to write my novel, All That’s Left Unsaid, I felt paralysed by fear. I wasn’t scared that my novel might be poorly received, even though that was a real possibility. I wasn’t worried that it might not find a publisher or even lose sleep over the chances that the manuscript itself might come up short. No, those worries would come later. My greatest fear in those early days of writing my debut novel was that I wouldn’t have enough material or momentum to complete even a first chapter.
You see, I had a rough idea for I knew I wanted to tell a story about an Asian Australian woman who tracks down the witnesses to her brother’s grisly murder, determined to find out what happened and why they each claim to have seen nothing. I knew I wanted it to read like a murder mystery. And I
