Hi fellow readers, writers, and friends!
Emotions are everything when it comes to telling a story readers actually want to follow. Without them, we can't relate to the protagonist. Emotions make the characters come to life on the page. I've sobbed, chuckled, rolled my eyes, and even wanted to throw the book across the room in anger or frustration. It's what readers want (even if they don't realize it). We want to experience the book, not just read a good story.
My creative writing teacher recommended a book by Donald Maass, The Emotional Craft of Fiction: How to Write the Story Beneath the Surface (2016). A sticky book, one you can't put down, is when the author makes you NEED to follow the character. This is accomplished with emotion. Maass shares a lot about how to do this, with many passages from novels where authors have done it right.
So what have I learned?
- There are outside layers—what the character physically shows the reader in a moment
- There are inside layers—what the character is feeling deep down. When I say "deep," I mean digging past surface-level emotions to the root cause of the feelings. Or at least that's what I've understood so far from Maass.
He goes on to share so much more, but I'm just going to focus on these two layers.
This may be a rough analogy, but I'll stick with it. When making a beef tenderloin, the meat is the plot. It's the foundation—what sticks with you. The creamy mashed potatoes and oven-roasted Brussels sprouts, pulled at just the right time for that perfect crunch? Those are the outer layers. They make the meal better. You don't just want a slab of meat. You want the sides to complement it. But the most important part—especially in French cooking—is the sauce: classic Béarnaise, peppercorn, creamy horseradish, red wine reduction. Those mouth-watering flavors add depth. That's your inner layer.
Suddenly, that slab of meat goes from good to unforgettable.
For some authors, I'm sure this comes easily. For others? Not so much. Getting into that emotional space, for me, means putting my emotions on the page. Using my life experiences to show the reader how the character feels in that moment. I struggle with adding emotion. It's feedback I got from both my teacher and my editor. So I'm practicing. Learning. Getting comfortable with being deep in my emotions. I don't think every page has to draw on the reader's emotions. The emotions should show up at the right time, in the right moment, and feel real, and maybe even unexpected (humans are unpredictable).
Those inner layers, and even the outer ones, reveal to the reader who the character is on the inside. Even the most mundane parts of the story, where you're setting things up but not a lot of action is happening. Those can be impactful if you add emotion to the moment. Give a little glimpse of who the character really is.
So I'm practicing. Trying to see if I can pull on those emotional strings. Sharing it with friends, a.k.a beta readers, to see if I'm on the right track. So without further ado, here is one of my passages. It has nothing to do with my novel. Just a mundane moment where the character's emotions get in the way during a family vacation.
Inescapable
I'm walking down a long hallway into Disney's Coral Reef Restaurant. The dining room hits me with instant Las Vegas vibes. Swirling turquoise and blue carpet. Chunky yellow-silver tables and chairs. But my eyes are glued to the massive aquarium stretching along the length of the wall across me.
The tank is enormous. Plenty of fish to keep my attention, wandering from one colorful blur to the next.
There's this one massive stingray that keeps circling. She glides along the glass, teasing me closer, daring me to press my face against it.
Just when I think I'm about to get a good look at her face, she whips around and disappears behind a cluster of artificial coral. Maybe some real ones mixed in. I wait. Eyes peeled for her return.
A plain grayish fish drifts into my view. He's not pretty. In fact, he's the opposite. No vibrant colors. Just dull scales and a giant protruding snout. I can't take my eyes off him. He opens and closes his mouth, doing whatever fish do. Breathing. Existing.
I can't stop staring at his mouth. Opening and closing.
My stomach squeezes. Whatever appetite I have is now swallowed. I shut my eyes hard. Not now. Not here.
But closing my eyes doesn't save me.
I'm in that sterile room. Where she can no longer laugh or smile. Where she can no longer tell me she loves me. All she can do is gasp for her every breath. Waiting for the moment it will end.
I keep talking to her. They tell me she can still hear me. She is so afraid of being alone. I want to help her, but I'm helpless. So, I talk and watch, holding her hand.
It's wet behind my lids. I need to open them, but I'm stuck. Trapped. Her mouth opens wide and closes. Opening wide again and closing. Like a fish out of water.
Will I be alone? Will someone hold my hand? Will it hurt? Will she be there waiting for me?
A bang on the glass.
My eyes pop open. The spell shatters.
My savior. My son.
Did it work? Are you feeling?
In a mundane moment, like eating at a restaurant on vacation, something triggers an emotional moment. We can see that they are emotionally spiraling without the reader having to be told. What are they feeling? Wonder. Sadness. Fear. Even though they are reliving the death of a loved one, the deeper-rooted emotion is their fear of death itself. So we learned a little about this character in this one mundane moment.
If it worked to get you feeling, I'm on the right track. If not, well, I guess I have more practicing to do.
Stay creative, stay hyped, and get comfortable with the uncomfortable.
Morgan
