Writing Grit: Three Tips to Create Emotion in Your Writing

I recently wrote a book review of the novel The Break, by Katherina Vermette. I can't stop thinking about this book; Vermette infused the story with so much emotional intensity that I continue to wonder about the lives of her characters long after turning the last page. In fact, the last time I felt such a deep emotional response to a fictional novel was when I read Wally Lamb's The Hour I First Believed, which is based on the real-life events of the Columbine massacre.

Here are a few lessons I've taken from these authors and others like them on how to draw an emotional response from your readers. Spoiler alert: I may give away a few plot details in the following paragraphs. If you haven't yet read these books, but are planning to (and you should), you may want to save this post for later.

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Keep it real

In The Break, Vermette launches the book with a traumatic, but mysterious, event; the reader is aware that something terrible has happened, but doesn't know exactly what. The details of this event -- the brutal rape of a young girl -- are released in the following chapters; however, the focus of the story isn't so much on the event itself, but on how each of the main characters experiences that event and the resulting aftermath.

Through alternating first-person narration, Vermette draws you deep into the inner thoughts and feelings of each character as they process what has happened. The emotions they must navigate through -- fear, anger, confusion, exhaustion -- are all emotions that the reader can relate to. You feel what the characters feel because you know that's how you would feel had it happened to you or someone you loved.

The trick is to find the balance. You want the character's reactions to feel real, but not too predictable. In fact, in the real world, people often don't react to situations the way you think they will. This might mean letting your character go against their nature in a stressful situation; a quiet character may rage where an aggressive character might withdraw.

However, you also want to avoid melodrama. If your character overreacts to a situation, unless the nature of the character is to overreact and that's part of your story, then you risk losing your reader's buy in. Similarly, if your character has the same reaction to different events, your reader will find it difficult to decipher which events really matter or they'll get bored, because if everything is a big deal, then nothing is a big deal.

Show, don't tell

This is the number one rule for writing, and its never more important than when trying to create emotional interest. If you tell your reader that a character is 'angry', then the reader will know your character is angry. However, if you show the anger, your reader will feel it.

For example, let's look at this excerpt from I Know This Much is True, when the main character learns his wife has been having an affair:

I paced, muttered. Sent my students' blue books flying and the dog running for cover. When I realized the cordless phone was still clenched in my hand, I whacked it fie or six times against the refrigerator door. My car keys were on the counter. I started at them for several seconds, then grabbed them.

The trucks hadn't sanded Bride Lake Road yet, but I kept mislaying the fact that the road was icy. Passing the entrance to the women's prison, I spotted oncoming headlights and hit the brakes. The fishtail I went into nearly sent me crashing into the security gate. My heart thumped. My breath came out in short blasts. I remembered who Paul Hay was.

Lamb focuses on the character's physical portrayal of emotion: pacing, muttering, clenched hands, heart thumping. In this way, you can feel the character's anger, his uncertainty, his adrenaline. You can feel that something is going to happen.

This scene also shows that dialogue isn't needed to depict emotion, although there are times when it is certainly effective. Think of the scene in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, when Cedrick Diggery's father learns his son is dead. His raw wail of "My son! My son!" is haunting.

Ebb and flow

One of the things that I enjoyed about The Break is that Vermette maintains a high level of emotional intensity throughout the book, but she does so in a way that keeps you on the edge without feeling drained. It's a bit like wading through molasses, which is how I imagine the character's must have felt trying to come to terms with trauma. They don't know if they'll get through it. They don't know how they'll get through it. All they know is that they must keep pushing forward.

However, Vermette also provides moments of relief, such as when a character is finally able to sleep after returning to her grandmother's house, or when two friends find a reason to laugh. These moments give the reader a chance to breath, as well as a sense of hope that the story will have a (somewhat) happy ending.

When determining the ebb and flow of emotion in your story, you need to consider what you want the reader to feel and when. Think of your story as a rollercoaster, with the climax as the biggest rise and fall. The emotional peaks and valleys at the beginning of the story will help build the momentum needed to carry the reader over that last steep incline. Too many, and it'll be a bumpy ride. Not enough, and they won't have the interest to make the final climb. And if there are no valleys at all, just a slow crawl to the top, you'll leave your reader feeling drained and frustrated.

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Have you ever read a book that left you wondering about the characters long after you'd finished? Or felt a deep emotional connection to a fictional character? If so, please share.

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