Emotion is vital to fiction. Without emotion, our books can read like bad history textbooks: a log of who did what, where, and when. Some history stories are moving enough to catch our imagination, but those are rare.
If we want our readers to care about our stories—our characters—we have to grab our readers (and our characters) by the emotions.
This is something I’ve had to work hard on in my fiction. I’ve usually run under the assumption that my readers could infer how my character felt. Until I got that dreaded feedback: “This scene drags. It’s boring.”
Boring? Boring?! I thought. Can’t you see the emotional turmoil she must be in? The moral dilemma this puts her in?
Um, no, they couldn’t—because I didn’t put it in there. For all they could tell, the character didn’t care. She was impassively watching the scene unfold, or participating without any trouble. Setting up a situation just isn’t enough: you have to show how that situation affects the character as it unfolds, or we’ll have to assume it’s not.
Compare:
Andrica grabbed the rope with both hands. She stared at the ground thirty feet below her. Her palms slipped a little.
She looked up. Above her, footsteps echoed across the rooftop she’d jumped from. They were going to come after her any minute.
But she could get out of this. She had to. She just needed to think.
No, she needed to act.
She’s in a pretty precarious situation—but do we really care about the outcome?
Andrica grabbed the rope with both hands. Her heart beat in her throat, but the thrill of triumph quickly faded. She dared to peek at the ground below. It should have been only thirty feet down, but her vision swirled dizzyingly. Her stomach plummeted and her clammy palms slipped a fraction of an inch.
She willed herself to look up. Above her, footsteps echoed across the rooftop she’d jumped from. They were going to come after her any minute. Adrenaline sang in her veins, making coherent thought impossible.
But she could get out of this. This time, she had to. Andrica forced a deep breath into her lungs. She just needed to think.
No, Aryn needed her—he needed his mother. She had to act. Now.
Now, not only do we watch what she experiences, but we know what she feels. And if the author does it right, we feel what she feels. And that‘s the way to creating powerful characters and stories.
Next, we’ll move into how to add emotion in your writing—and how not to.
What do you think? How do you like your emotion in fiction?
Photo by Steve Ventress
Really liked how you broke the scene down. Thanks.
Stopping by to introduce myself as a new follower and fellow crusader. Did you find out what group you’re in yet?
Thanks!
Yep, the murderous group. Erm, mystery/thriller/suspense. 😀
I’ve seen you around in some blogfests, so it was nice to see a familiar name on the lists! Off to follow back.
Certainly see the difference between both of the same scene. Inserting what makes a person feel at any moment, or even show it is vital. Good blog!
making crusader rounds. Nice to meet you, now following!
Nikki
Hi Jordan,
Very clear examples, thank you for that. I prefer the first one, but my writing does tend to be a little sparse. I think that different readers like different styles, and that’s great for us writers.
It’s true that different readers like different styles, and specifics vary by genre. But it’s also true emotion can enhance any dramatic scene—although the actually application will vary, too. Sometimes we need to avoid putting too much emotion in to give the reader room to feel, too. Other times, it’s more important to show the reader that the character cares and struggles, so they should, too.
Of course, four paragraphs in isolation are hard to evaluate. To me, the first one contains drama, but the character has nothing at stake. We don’t know whether this effort was a challenge or something she does every day. We have no reason to care.
Catching up on your Emotion series.
I’ve come to realize that emotion is the missing element in my fiction. What I feel should be obvious to the reader isn’t.
The question is how to do it.
The problem I run into is the “Show, don’t tell” aspect of “showing” emotion.
Your example is pretty good. I wonder though if you should start with the stakes and then the obstacle (probably a style choice).
Andrica clung to the rope, fretting each second away from Aryn, imagining his distress. Her heart thumped in triumph, but the thrill faded at the sight of the bone-crunching pavement thirty feet below.
Etc.
It’s something I’m trying to figure out myself. 🙂