Deep Point of View Archives - Lisa Hall-Wilson

5 Pro Tips On Writing Description In Deep Point Of View

December 31, 2019 by Lisa Hall-Wilson Leave a Comment

Woop! Let’s give 2019 a giant kick out the door and welcome in 2020 with a bang! Beginning January 1^st, I am launching 30 Days Of Deep POV on my Facebook page, where I’ll be creating a video a day based on my 30 most popular blog posts (including guest posts) on deep point of view (t. Don’t miss out! Join the fun on Facebook!

I am continuing the Deep POV FAQ series and today’s question is: how do I add more pertinent details without boring my readers?

I get asked this A LOT concerning writing in deep point of view. I’ve blogged about writing description here and here. Here and here. But it is hard to know what you should expand on or cut way back, so let’s get super practical right now. Because to you – ALL the details are important. So how do you know what to keep and what to get rid of?

How Much Does The Reader Need To Know NOW?

Some details are important for the reader to know – to understand the story, but resist the temptation to deliver all of it at once. Ask – how much does the reader need to know RIGHT NOW to understand what’s going on? My personal rule for backstory is to answer one question and leave the reader with two more. Drip. Drip. Drip. Same rule applies here with description. Scene by scene, drip-drip-drip, ask yourself what information the reader absolutely needs to know to understand what’s going on right now. Does the reader need to know the history of THAT coffee table RIGHT NOW, or does the reader just need to know that there’s an interesting coffee table that catches her eye because right now something is more important to the character?

It’s better to deliver information to the reader through dialogue than a narrative passage, it’s more fun to read and is less likely to slow the pace. Think of the Immortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare. Clary knows nothing about the shadow world, about shadowhunters, so she’s always asking questions and needing things explained to her. Her questions deliver the information the reader needs to know to understand the story, but Clary couldn’t possibly know all the questions to ask in Chapter One. She has to keep moving forward and ask questions as they come up, on a need-to-know basis. That’s the best way to think of it. Keep the story moving ahead always.

For Those Who Love Flowery, Flowing, Descriptive Passages…

If this is you, probably you find that you have to edit out big sections of narrative (and it feels a bit like you’re gutting the heart of the story). First, you can’t fix something that isn’t written, so a pat on the back for getting the words down. That’s the first big hurdle.

With deep point of view, every bit of information given to the reader is filtered through the point of view character – not you, the writer. The goal of deep point of view, remember, is for the writer to disappear and for the reader to feel like they’re IN the story with the character. Ask yourself, at the beginning of any scene, what’s your POV character’s motivation in this scene? Sounds like something an actor would ask, but it works here too. Because, whatever your POV character is zoned in on determines what they notice, ignore, explain away, take in but don’t linger over, etc.

I often use the example of a teenage boy home from school who’s hungry. (yes, this might be an example ripped straight from my own life). The boy won’t notice the new paint on the wall, that the furniture has been rearranged, that mom’s got a new haircut – nothing. (all true stories) What he will notice is that the dog is wet when it jumps on him. He’ll notice if there’s a smell in the house that hints at baking taking place. He will have catalogued everything in the fridge and know if something’s been added or removed (say, leftover pizza).

This filtering of details is super important in deep point of view. A character who’s eager to impress or please, might trip over themselves offering compliments or searching for something they think the other person is proud of. A guy who’s walked into the local coffee shop and sees his girl sitting with some other guy will notice different things than the friends who are standing right next to him. It’s not that those other things don’t exist, but the details are filtered through what’s important to that character right now.

Additionally, remember that the reader does 80% of the work of description. If I tell you that a female walks into a male co-worker’s office, shuts the blinds, slips out of her heels and pops open the top three buttons on her blouse – does it matter what colour the carpet is, or if the desk between them is mahogany or oak? Ask what would THAT character focus on, IN THAT MOMENT? That’s what the reader gets to know about. Cut everything else.

The Details Given Specificity Are Considered Important By Readers

One of the pitfalls of deep point of view is falling into what’s called writing on the nose. This is when every movement is described in a blow-by-blow account that doesn’t serve the story. This needless description frustrates readers because the story’s pace moves at a glacial speed. Remember, the more time you spend describing anything, the more importance the reader will assume it to have. Whether it’s an object on a table, the table itself, or even the walk to answer the door, if it’s important to the character in that moment it had better help move the story forward. Be ruthless about this.

Some writers love these sweeping all-encompassing descriptions of setting. The moon, the stars, the wind through the trees, the crickets, the blah blah blah. Keep in mind that these sections of description slow the pace of your story, so be strategic with them. If it’s true to the character to notice the colours of the setting sun and reminisce about some childhood memory, that’s fine, but be strategic with the pacing. In the middle of a chase scene is not the place for that kind of narrative. Also, drip-drip-drip. It’s hard to justify giving more than a couple lines to this kind of description. If it’s a paragraph, two paragraphs, half a page or more, be very objective about whether the reader needs all that information in that spot.

What is the norm for the genre you’re writing in? Some genres make more room for these types of descriptive passages than others.

Use Description To Show More About Your Characters

Yes, it’s good to be specific when possible because it helps the reader picture the scene better. However, one pitfall to watch out for is giving the character knowledge they don’t actually possess. I can open the hood of my vehicle and find where to add wiper fluid, where to check the oil and add oil… and that’s about it. I’m sure those parts have proper names but I don’t know them. You wouldn’t have to tell a reader your character is a mechanic if they can open the hood and actually name all the parts and know their function, or recognize a problem in a particular part by a sound.

I can walk into a garden (near where I live) and name many of the plants growing in any season. My husband notices flower colours. I couldn’t tell you one designer hand bag from another, but I know what expensive looks like.

Use this filter to give the reader information about your character. This is part of show don’t tell. If I’m reading about a character who can walk into a new-to-them garden and name many of the plants, I assume they know a lot about gardening. The writer wouldn’t have to tell me that. But if your character knows everything about everything, I can’t discern anything about their character.

Additionally, does this garden-loving character get upset that the Irises are planted too deep (and now won’t flower), or do they take a moment to recall the Latin name for the plant? These small details give insight into the character, but are just a drip, drip, drip of information. The reader may not catch every single hint, but they’ll catch enough to get to know your character. It’s just a phrase, not even a whole sentence, of this kind of description filtered through what’s important to the character, that really brings a character and a story to life for readers.

Ask Your Beta Readers

In the end, knowing what to keep and what to cut comes down to how well you’re communicating ideas that you feel are important/vital to the story you want to tell and the characters you’ve created. Take the time to interview your beta readers. Pick out a particular scene, ask them how it made them feel? What did they love? Where were they tempted to skim? Know what effect you were going for in that scene and blatantly ask if you pulled that off. Ask more than one beta reader.

This is the kind of feedback that will help you learn where to be clearer, where you can lean closer to what might feel like melodrama to you, or where to cut back because the point is being muddied or the passage skimmed because there’s too many details. Ask people who love your genre, but will be honest with you. Beta readers who are afraid to hurt your feelings are all that helpful, ultimately — not if you’re looking to improve your writing.

Are you a writer who writes very sparse on a first draft and has to edit in description, or are you a writer who loves to add description and has to later go back and edit much of it out? How do YOU decide what to keep?

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How To Write With Immediacy In Fiction

December 12, 2019 by Lisa Hall-Wilson 2 Comments

We’re continuing in our FAQ series on Deep POV. The question that came in was: How do you write with immediacy?

There are a few foundational rules with deep point of view and writing with immediacy and removing distance are two of them. If you don’t write with immediacy you add perceived distance between the reader and the story, which is exactly what deep pov tries to eliminate. As I considered this question, I realized that I haven’t written much about this here or in my book, so let’s break this down.

Simply put, immediacy is writing as though everything in the story is happening right now.

Is Past Or Present Tense More Immediate?

Some writers get hung up on writing in past or present tense when asked about immediacy. Are you writing He is… or He was…? With deep point of view, there isn’t a right or wrong answer here. You can write in deep pov with immediacy equally well in past or present tense.

Is First Or Third Person Better?

Again – wrong question. I see many blogs out there saying first person is more intimate than third person, but I disagree. Written equally well, a reader can immerse themselves just as well in a first or third person story. Some readers will have a preference, many writers have a preference, one or the other is more popular in some genres.

I would like to clarify that writing in first person doesn’t automatically make your writing deep point of view (or more immediate). I’ve written about first or third person here. This is a distraction in the discussion about writing with immediacy or deep point of view.

What Is Writing With Immediacy?

Writing with immediacy is capturing the story as the character moves through a scene. Think of it like strapping a GoPro to your point of view character (POVC).

If story is a car, omniscient POV puts the reader in the back seat away from the action. A limited POV puts the reader in the shotgun seat beside the driver. Deep point of view puts the reader in the POVC’s lap in the driver’s seat. They see/hear/know/learn/feel everything the POVC does, but that’s ALL they know. The entire story is filtered through the POVC as though they are living the story in real time. It’s a first-person shooter style of storytelling.

Avoid The Narrator Voice

The narrator voice slips in particularly if you’re more familiar with the omniscient point of view style (or, I’ve found this happens among writers who, as readers, detest feeling tension when reading themselves). This is a stylistic choice that makes sure the reader knows everything is OK before the conflict really heats up. I can’t give you a template or a list of words to do a search for. It all depends on the effect the phrase creates.

Some examples might be:

Later, he would realize this had all been a dream. (and then the dream sequence begins)
If only she’d known how Brad would react, she’d have kept her mouth shut. (and then she says the thing she later regrets saying)

This idea of hindsight or looking back before the event comes off as author intrusion in deep point of view and it adds distance. Now, this doesn’t mean your character can’t second guess themselves, but it’s expressed after they’ve done something. It can also work in a self-fulfilling prophecy sense. This is a bad idea or I’m going to regret this… and then they step into the hard thing as an act of courage or whatever. That’s different than this all-knowing narrator slipping into the story foretelling the future.

Writing in this way, especially in deep point of view, undercuts the tension for readers. By reassuring readers that the character will be safe no matter what’s about to happen, the reader is chucked into the backseat of the story car surrounded with bubble wrap.

Immediacy With Emotions

Writing emotions with immediacy is an often-overlooked aspect of writing in deep point of view. I wrote about the four layers of emotional storytelling here. We usually start with the first layer, the primary emotions. These are our instinctive emotional responses – the gut reaction, the spontaneous reaction, the survival instinct, etc. Often, these emotions are quick and visceral – meaning they have a physical component to them, not a thinking component.

You show this through physiological responses, physical reactions, etc. These are not emotions we think about before we decide if we’re feeling them or not. For example, we each feel fear uniquely. Show what fear feels like to that character. What terrifies one person, another won’t even pause over. Primary emotions require immediate action and prepare your body to act.

She scrolled through Facebook with her thumb. A shadow fell across the floor in front of her. A man punched the up button on the elevator and then stood nearly shoulder to shoulder with her. She inched away. What’s his deal? She looked up at his face, his hair parted with precision and the angles of his face sharp and chiseled.

He looked down on her and winked. Her belly clenched and she glanced around the lobby. Empty. She flicked her thumb and pulled up the emergency screen on her phone. Her thumb hesitated. He wore a nice suit, a real-leather-looking case in his hand that matched his shoes, and a gold watch. But the tightness in her belly spread up to her chest, cinching and squeezing. Her heart beat faster. The elevator dinged and she flinched. The doors slid open.

This is all primary emotions, right. Now, those emotions are going to force the character to do something, because this isn’t a comfortable feeling. She takes in a lot of information trying to decide if she’s safe or not. In deep point of view, we give the reader what evidence we have at hand and let them decide what emotion the character is feeling. This way, the reader knows WHY the character makes the decision they do. Make the reader lean in to understand, to engage with the emotions in the scene.

Primary emotions are immediate, raw, and unfiltered.

Perspective Is Determined Through Immediacy

In the example above, all of the information given to the reader is filtered through the character’s perspective. Her perspective is informed by what’s important to her RIGHT NOW.

There are some scenes where a character’s emotions dictate their plans for the future. Much of the time, what our characters take in, filter, judge, assess, etc. is put through a lens of what’s important to them right now. A teen boy can overlook quite a few things when he is hungry. All the sensory data intake is focused on finding food – smell, sight, past experience, taste, etc.

Think of the example above of the woman at the elevator, how would it change the character’s primary emotions if she’d been sexually assaulted previously? How would her thinking response change if she was on her way to work, to a job she couldn’t afford to lose, and she was a little late? How would her primary emotions react if she’d just read on her phone that the police were investigating a string of recent assaults in that neighborhood? Or she’d just had a friend who was assaulted?

Do you see how immediacy can shape a character’s perception of everything around them and shape their responses? It’s all interconnected.

Have a question about writing with immediacy? This is the third post in the deep POV FAQ series, have a question you’d like to see answered – post it below!

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How To Write A PTSD Flashback In Deep POV

December 4, 2019 by Lisa Hall-Wilson 2 Comments

Flashbacks are super popular among writers, but less popular among editors and agents. Partly because some writers call info dumps and backstory “a flashback.” If you’re interested in diving deep into writing flashbacks caused by trauma and PTSD, read on because I have some good tips for you!

Quick Recap: What Is Deep Point Of View?

Deep point of view is a stylistic choice to remove the perceived distance between the reader and the point of view character. This technique puts the reader IN the story as it’s happening. The reader knows everything the point of view character knows/sees/hears/etc. but that’s all they know.

If you’re not sure if you’re writing in deep point of view or not, check out this guest post I did at Writers In The Storm and then come back here and learn more about writing flashbacks in deep pov.

What Is A Flashback?

In my online classes, I often get asked for help in writing two kinds of flashbacks. One kind of flashback is the idea of a glimpse into a character’s past, basically a cut scene to something’s that happened before. This is usually written as a dream or as backstory. These are really hard to do well in deep pov because much of the time they come across as author intrusion.

Be objective about whether the reader needs to know ALL of that info in one place. My personal rule for backstory is to answer one question for the reader and leave them with two more. To drip in the backstory a sentence, a phrase, at a time. If you’ve got a paragraph, two paragraphs, a whole chapter — that’s just a look at the past, for the sake of looking at the past, “kill your darlings.” Yes, other authors use them, and they’re not wrong per se, but there’s a great post here by K.M. Weiland about writing this type of flashbacks.

Flashbacks As A Symptom Of Past Trauma

I’ve written before about writing trauma backstories and even writing PTSD in deep pov. So, let’s dig a little deeper into flashbacks as a symptom of PTSD as a storytelling device.

First, please do some research into PTSD before tritely using flashbacks. According to Psychiatry.com PTSD occurs in 7%-8% of the population and is twice as likely in women as men. PTSD makes a great source of internal conflict in fiction especially as general awareness of the condition grows, but don’t be a source of mis-information. Don’t cheat your reader! **climbs off soapbox**

We want to show and not tell, but deep pov takes this to all new levels. So, how do we show a flashback so readers know that’s what’s happening without TELLING them it’s a flashback?

Here’s the thing: a flashback is your body reliving the worst event of your life over and over without any warning or control to stop it from happening. It’s more like a nightmare than a memory, because it can be completely immersive and block out all sense of time and place.

Think about that for a moment. How would that daily reality affect you? If you’re using flashbacks, be sure to learn about all of the other symptoms of living with PTSD: hyper-vigilance, inability to sleep (not always insomnia), nightmares, avoidance, exhaustion, heightened startle reflex, trust issues, inability to concentrate, irritability, physical pain, sweating, etc.

Actors use this trick called Emotive Memory – they are able to recall an event from their past with such intensity they can relive that emotion. When you’re writing flashbacks, think about the absolute worst thing that’s ever happened to you, really let it well up and overwhelm you (stay safe), and recapture how that felt. How did your body respond? Now, imagine those feelings amplified by a life or death consequence to that event. Now, imagine living with the constant reality of having that memory pouncing on you like a starving lion at any moment. And knowing that people will think you’re insane if they find out what’s really going on with you.

Fight, Flight And Freeze Responses

Many are familiar with the fight or flight responses. Anger and violence are common responses to PTSD flashbacks. Leaving immediately, without explanation, or avoiding any situation that could trigger a flashback is also common. The survival response fewer know about is Freeze.

For those who experienced a trauma where they couldn’t escape, they were literally overpowered. They couldn’t fight back because the perpetrator was too strong (physically, or because of a power imbalance). The brain turns to the last option available to it in order to survive – dissassociation. They go numb. Their mind goes blank, or they disconnect mentally from what’s happening to their bodies. They comply.

These survival instincts will all trigger a similar physical response – increased heart rate, sweating, tidal wave of adrenaline, you breathe heavily. The processes not needed to help you take quick action are turned off or un-prioritized – like thinking. Unlike a general anxiety attack, you can’t think your way out of a PTSD flashback or attack. All you can do is remove yourself from the perceived threat.

Here’s the thing about a fear response. When faced with a real life-threatening situation, your body will act without you thinking about it. It’s an instinctual response right, like being startled. Most of the time, when faced with an imaginary fear (such as public speaking, where there’s no real physical threat), we struggle with indecision, second guess ourselves, etc. Do you see the difference?

Flashbacks Should Be An Individual Response

Flashbacks come in various severities, so do some research into them. At its most severe, a flashback can cause you to lose all connection with your current reality, like a nightmare you can’t wake up from.

“…When discussing the topic of flashbacks with friends and family, most assume it’s just a memory, like remembering your first kiss or your first time at Disneyland. However, that’s not what it’s like at all. For most people, myself included, flashbacks are an intense re-experience of a traumatic event, which feels like it’s happening now and involves all your senses. In effect, it feels like being re-traumatized, even though you are not actually experiencing the event for real…” Read the whole post here.

There are emotional flashbacks, where you remain conscious of where you are and whether you’re physically safe, but your body is convinced you’re in imminent danger and that emotional response tangibly controls you.

“…Because most emotional flashbacks do not have a visual or memory component to them, the triggered individual rarely realizes that she is re-experiencing a traumatic time from childhood…” Read the whole post here.

Don’t Cheat Readers On The Consequences Of Flashbacks

Flashbacks, particularly if they sneak up on you, are exhausting. Like, bone weary, sleep for a week and still be tired, exhausted. There will be heightened vigilance following a flashback, because the character will want to make sure that doesn’t happen again. There may be actual consequences because of their behavior. You can’t randomly run out of a board meeting without explanation and there not be social or professional consequences. Most people don’t want others to know they’re struggling, so do some research into the coping mechanisms used.

Writing Internal Dialogue During A Flashback

The internal dialogue is what most people tend to struggle with. Remember, in deep pov, internal dialogue must be written as though the character is alone in their own heads. They won’t explain to themselves what the traumatic event was, when it happened, who hurt them. You’ll have to strategically build in the necessary backstory for readers, one drip at a time, over the course of the story.

Do you have any questions about flashbacks in deep pov? Is this a device that you’re using? Where are you struggling?

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Don’t Let “The Rules” Of Deep POV Limit You!

November 7, 2019 by Lisa Hall-Wilson 1 Comment

There are a great many writers who LOVE rules. Rules. Rules. Rules. They rub their hands together and begin to salivate. Grammar rules. Punctuation rules. Structure rules. Genre rules. Templates. Formulas.

I’m not such a big fan of writing rules myself, generally speaking — so I’m only guessing here, but I suspect some writers love rules because it feels like there’s a greater chance for success. A gaurantee. If I follow all the rules then I will write a great book and scads of people will love my work. And, in all their varied wonder – rules aren’t bad.

Here’s What People Misunderstand About Deep POV

Deep POV is a tool. It’s a strategy. I have used a wrench to pound in a nail because that’s what I had within reach to get the job done, and it worked. If wrenches came with user manuals, would instructions for pounding in a nail with it be found there? Nope. But it worked because my goal was simply to get the nail in the wall RIGHT NOW.

Deep POV is all about creating an effect. It’s a strategy. The goal of deep pov is to remove the perceived distance between the reader and the character, so the reader is immersed in the story so they are living the story as it’s happening. Many, many books and blogs outline the basics of deep pov — and those basics are important, they’re necessary. (Many believe just learning the basics is enough, but there are so many interconnected threads to other writing tools that get filtered through deep pov — that deep pov adds depth and subtle hues to, the basics are just the tip of the iceberg.) However, a little bit of knowledge leads to frustration. You KNOW it’s not coming out on the page the way you want it to, but you don’t know how to fix it.

A comment from a student taking the Method Acting For Writers Masterclass on Deep POV.

Just Knowing The Rules Of Deep POV Won’t Make It Work For You

Learn what effect “the rules” were teaching you to create. Once you understand how the tools are meant to be used, then you have an understanding of how to put them to best use for your story. If my goal is to put a nail in the wall, does it really matter what tool I use to achieve that in the end? No, not really (no matter what any perfectionist says). It’s a nail – no one is going to see it. All people will see is the picture I’ve hung on the nail.

Let’s look at removing the distance between the reader and the character in deep pov for example. Most writers struggle with this to some degree (particularly if you’re a big fan of classic literature where the omniscient pov was king), but in deep pov removing distance is taken to all new levels of intensity and it can be hard to grasp at first.

But learning to recognize distance when you see it is one thing. Knowing how to use it to create a specific effect is another. In deep pov, writers strive to remove the perceived distance between the reader and the character because the goal is to create an effect where the reader feels like they’re IN the story, not being told a story.

However, sometimes distance is helpful. There are simply practical instances such as skimming over time or moving – a character is driving from point A to point B and the story only moves ahead when the character gets to point B. There are stylistic choices such as creating an effect of the character feeling like time is flying by, they’ve lost track of time, or an out-of-mind/body experience. Staying in deep pov in these instances won’t create the effect you’re looking for and/or will tie an anchor to the pace of your novel.

With my book, this blog, my free courses, and my more intensive paid courses, I strive to teach “the rules” because it’s super important to know what effect those rules are trying to create, but then — as an artist — it’s your job to make those effects WORK FOR YOU and not be ruled by them.

But What About… They Break Deep POV Rules

I inevitably get one or a few students pointing out that this author or that one, who I’ve cited as using deep pov, breaks this rule or that one — or a bunch of them. Here’s the thing. YOU get to decide how deep you want to write. YOU decide when you’re going to break the rules. YOU decide how strictly you want to adhere to any one rule or all of them. YOU.

Is it OK to using telling to introduce a character? “The Rules” of deep pov would say no. There’s always a way, without breaking POV, telling, or author intrusion, to introduce a character. And that’s usually correct. But, there may be times where you just need the reader to know who that new character is and keep the flow of the scene moving and focused on something else. That’s OK.

Just remember, if you cheat the rules of deep pov because you can’t be bothered to dig deep enough to find the real emotion powering a scene, a character’s real motiviation, or spend the time to craft a sentence to avoid author intrusion — you’re cheating your readers too. Cheat your reader too much and they won’t keep reading. Lazy writing rarely gets celebrated, my friends.

This is a messy business, and the best writing wrings more blood and tears from the writer than it ever will from the reader. But it’s worth the effort. Always. Because everyone who reads your work will get that emotional experience, that emotional journey you wanted to deliver — even you.

Have you joined the 5 Day Deep Point of View Challenge group on Facebook? Three to five times a year, I run a free challenge where I post video lessons and give feedback on YOUR work.

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4 Exercises To “Go Deeper” With Deep Point Of View

September 22, 2019 by Lisa Hall-Wilson Leave a Comment

Hearing “go deeper” from crit partners and editors? Here are my 4 favorite tricks for digging deeper emotionally into a scene.

Deep point of view is a powerful writing technique, but it’s a strategy and like any technique or strategy you need to know what effect you want to create so you understand where and when to break the rules. What you have to decide for yourself (once you know the “rules”) is where and when you’re going to employ or break those rules in any given scene to create a specific effect for readers. There does need to be consistency, but there’s a lot of flexibility here.

Deep point of view applied too rigidly causes writing on the nose, navel gazing, slow pacing, and other problems.

In my Method Acting for Writers Masterclass (and moreso in my Deep Dive Author Club Membership) I help point out places where the writer could “go deeper” with their writing. It’s been my observation that these writers instinctively know what the scene needed, but hold back because they fear being melodramatic or of baring too much of themselves emotionally. Step into the uncomfortable and messy bits!

My students are always asking me how I know where to take the writing deeper. Part of it is simply having some emotional distance from the story. It’s easier to pick it out in a story I haven’t written lol. That aside, here are some things I look for when critiquing student work to help them go deeper.

What does your character want RIGHT NOW?

This is easy to miss and can absolutely swing a scene from blah to bang! Identify what your character desperately needs in the scene you’re working on. What they want will prioritize and filter everything they see, what they think, and how they interpret the body language of others.

A teenage boy gets home from school at 4PM and hasn’t had lunch yet. He’ll blow into the house and not notice if the walls have been painted or if anyone else is home, his goal is to get to the fridge to see what he can eat. He’ll notice if there are grocery bags on the counter. His nose will be attuned to any cooking smells. He opens the fridge and immediately searches the space where he last saw a leftover slice of pizza.

A husband returns home to his wife after a late-night meetup with his lover. What his wife notices or takes in will be a reflection of her priorities, experiences, etc. If she’s neck-deep in work, maybe she’ll give him a kiss on the cheek and apologize that she’ll be up late again. She won’t notice the lipstick on his collar or the perfume on his shirt.

If she’s spent the day wrangling preschoolers and is exhausted and feeling frumpy, she might just sag with relief when he says he’s going for a shower and then bed after being out late because please-don’t-want-sex-tonight. She’ll overlook the red flags, maybe even justify or dismiss clues because she trusts him and her priority at that moment is some peace and quiet.

In either situation, she’s not stupid for missing the clues and it isn’t that she hasn’t registered or taken in the red flags, but her conclusions are filtered through her priorities. It’s human nature to miss what you’re not looking for. If she was suspicious, or less distracted, or angry that he was late, she’d put more importance on or be more attuned to his body language or behavior.

Identify what your character wants in any scene and filter all the details they notice, even the words they use to describe what they notice, through that focus or priority.

Create An Emotional Arc With Every Scene

Identify the emotion your character feels at the beginning of a scene. Each scene has an emotional beginning, middle and end. With plot, you want to structure your scenes in such a way that the character begins with a goal (that is the next step to solving their story goal) and by the end of the scene either they’ve gotten what they wanted but no longer want it, or they fail to get what they want. The emotional arc works the same way. The failure in the scene should be reflected in the emotional arc for the character as well.

Each failure should have an emotional consequence.

This arc doesn’t need to be dramatic or life-altering. It’s a slow change over time. You want to surprise your readers with the emotional arc when possible. Whatever emotion the character started the scene with, make sure they feel an opposite or conflicting emotion at the end of the chapter. It doesn’t have to be blatant like love and indifference. Don’t fulfil your character’s expectations. If the character goes into a scene happy but knows they’ll be betrayed by the end, there’s no surprise for the reader. The reader already knows what’s going to happen because the character does. Go back to the beginning of the scene and change up the emotional starting point.

Think of the second book in the Narnia series Prince Caspian. The Pevensies are transported back to Narnia and they have expected to be elated and overjoyed to have returned to what feels familiar, but instead, they arrive and are confused. That expected elation and joy feels a bit flat when they realize they haven’t returned to the Narnia they left.

Avoid Cliches With Metaphors And Similes

Cliches are boring for readers, they know what’s coming. Sometimes you can make that work for you, sometimes it undermines your story. So, how do you avoid clichés with your characters? First, make sure the character is telling the story – you’re not. In deep point of view, the goal is for the writer to disappear as much as possible so that the reader is living out the story WITH the main character.

Strap a Go-pro to your character and write what they see, pause at, are surprised by – as they work their way through the story. When you can do that, the next step is to infuse your character’s internal and spoken dialogue with phrases and comparisons that are unique. This is the easiest way to avoid cliché (because sometimes we write clichés and don’t even realize it).

To describe someone who’s angry, a farmer might say they’re mad as a hornet in a Coke can. A businessman might describe a meeting was as much fun as the middle seat on an international flight. What’s common to that character based on their experience and background? Choose comparisons that hint at where they’ve come from, or what’s important to them, when thinking or speaking.

Find The Key Emotional Point In Every Chapter

Your POV character is solving a problem – that’s your story. Every chapter/scene is the POV character’s plan (the next step they’ve come up with) on how to resolve or solve this problem they have. Obviously, they can’t solve their story problem in the first chapter, and there have to be obstacles between the character and whatever goal they have in.

In each scene, look at the goal the character has for that scene. List three or five possible emotions your character could be feeling. Stretch yourself here. Get curious. Why would they feel each of those emotions? What are the consequences of those emotions? What would be the personal fallout of each of those emotions? What kind of person do they think would feel that way? What judgement do they make about themselves based on how they feel about what they’re doing?

Whichever one you pick, make that emotion unique to that character in that moment.

There are many shades of fear, right. Why would that character be afraid in that moment? A character afraid of losing their job will feel differently than a character afraid of losing face by approaching a pretty girl. Answer the WHY for readers so they understand (and can empathize with and cheer for) your character’s motivations.

The 5 Day Deep Point Of View Challenge is starting up again on October 14. The Method Acting For Writers Masterclass will begin at the end of the 5 day challenge, so be sure to join the group to get all the updates on the course!!

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Identify Your Character’s Emotional Triggers

June 26, 2019 by Lisa Hall-Wilson Leave a Comment

Everyone has an emotional trigger. This is not about mental health, anxiety, PTSD — none of that. Every one has emotional triggers – but are you using this to increase the emotional tension in your story? Why not!?

What Does Your Character Think Is Their Strength?

What does your character pride themselves on having, being, doing, possessing, needing, controlling, etc? Do they rest their identity in any of these things? Some common ones are: acceptance, respect, being liked, being needed, freedom, attention, being in control, autonomy, safety, etc.

It could be a strength or aptitude that was reinforced when they were young. A child identified as gifted at a young age might place all their identity and self-worth in being smart, in being the smartest person in the room. How would they feel when faced with a new colleague who is smarter, faster, more innovative? What would that do to their self-confidence?

This where personality plays into things. Would they react in anger and lash out, gossip, try to undermine the new colleague at every opportunity? Would they sink into shame and beat themselves up constantly? Would they become competitive and work themselves into the groud to maintain what they believe they’re owed or due?

A woman who’s always told how pretty she is might begin to expect that compliment from people, from men in particular. What thought takes root if that doesn’t happen? What emotions come to the fore if she’s in the room when another woman gets all the compliments and not her?

Emotional triggers are often linked to anything at all that a character feels they’re really good at, that they deserve, something they see as their personal identity, or that they’re constantly striving for (feeling heard by a spouse for example).

What Does Your Character Value Most And Fears Having Taken Away?

This where the primary and secondary emotions come into play. You can read more about that here – but for to recap a primary emotion is an instinctive emotional response: fear, guilt, envy, jealousy, attraction. A secondary emotion is any emotion that requires a thinking response: love, anger, hatred, shame, etc.

Anger and shame and love are always secondary emotions.

Some emotions can be either a primary or secondary emotion. Take attraction for instance (learn to write the body language of attraction here), attraction can be an instinctive thing (a primary emotion), but it can also develop over time with familiarity (a secondary emotion).

An emotional trigger skips the primary emotion phase and jumps right to the thinking response – the secondary emotion. That’s why you can instantly be angry at something and not know why.

So, for example, I have a character with an emotional trigger of feeling high maitenance. If she perceives that people think she’s being high maitenance, too-big-for-her-britches, because it’s a learned response (one that she’s practiced many times) she skips right to feeling shame. The shame is what’s observable (showable in actions or dialogue). The shame is what I show when writing this emotional trigger.

What Emotions Are Activated When Key Needs Are Or Aren’t Met?

Activated is another way to say triggered, but in this context it seems more descriptive. Once you’ve identified the feelings or fears that are emotional triggers for your character (and yes you can have more than one), next figure out what emotions are activated when that situation crops up.

You have to think in terms of secondary emotions here. Do they immediately become angry? Are they riddled with shame? Do they feel loved? Remember, triggers don’t have to be negative!

Now, to manage or overcome an emotional trigger, an individual needs a good measure of self-awareness and humility. Then, as Brene Brown would say, they need to get curious. Why do they feel that way? What do they feel is at stake?

How To Show And Not Tell An Emotional Trigger

In my Method Acting For Writers Masterclass, I talk about how primary emotions are usually felt and secondary emotions are usually seen. How does that play out?

Eliza’s husband is three hours later coming home than he said he’d be, without answering texts, emails or phone calls to explain the delay. Eliza has shipped the kids off to grandma’s for the night, prepared a nice dinner, and gottten all dressed up — as a surprise.

By the time hubs arrives home, Eliza has cleared the romantic setting from the table, put all the still-edible bits of food in the fridge, and Eliza’s changed out of the sexy outfit she’d been wearing into a terry bathrobe.

During the whole clean-up, her primary emotions are going wild. Frustration (feeling taken for granted). Concern (did something happen at work). Fear (was he in an accident). Jealousy (was there another woman). You’d show all these emotions colliding around inside through physiology , actions, and internal dialogue.

Once hubs arrives home and is safe – oh, whoops – went out for drinks did I forget to text you? Now she has to DO something with these emotions so now she’s angry. But if Eliza had an emotional trigger of say… feeling in control, then not knowing where her hubs was when he was supposed to be at home would be a trigger for a secondary emotion. Having her well-thought-out plans for the surprise would be an emotional trigger.

Emotional triggers can be powerful and effective, because they’re so often over-the-top emotional reactions. When your emotional triggers are activated, you’re not just angry — you’re livid. People can observe these night-and-day emotional hairpin turns because they seem to come out of nowhere if you’re not privvy to what the trigger is.

Are you using emotional triggers in your novel? What is your character afraid will be taken away or threatened?

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