3 Red Flags For Author Intrusion In Deep Point Of View

December 4, 2018 by Lisa Hall-Wilson Leave a Comment

Readers want an emotional experience or journey in addition to being entertained.

Many writers are looking for ways to create a deeper connection between readers and their main character. They want to create an emotional experience and deep point of view definitely can do that, but not if you undermine the feeling that readers are IN THE STORY instead of reading a story – if that makes sense.

A character’s thoughts tend to be the lifeblood of deep point of view. Internal dialogue helps to clarify the WHY for readers. Why is the MC behaving that way, reacting that way, saying that, etc. But writers switching to deep pov from non-deep point of view styles of writing struggle with too much telling in internal dialogue.

The Mindset Switch

Because we want readers to feel like they’re in the story with the MC (think of it like handing a reader a virtual reality headset or going through the story like it’s a first-person shooter game), we want readers to feel like they’re IN the story not being told a story.

If your story is a car and the MC is in the driver’s seat, the reader doesn’t want to sit in the stands and watch the race, sit in the backseat or ride shotgun. They want to be in the driver’s lap and see everything the driver sees, feel the vibrations in the wheel and feel the lurch with each gear shift. You break the fictive dream in deep point of view if the reader feels like they’re being told a story rather than living it vicariously through the MC.

So writing internal dialogue as though the reader is listening in comes across as author intrusion. Using internal dialogue to convey backstory or “explain” things to readers feels like author intrusion and breaks the fictive dream. You’ve just picked up your reader, taken them out of the story and plopped them right back in the theatre seats watching the story again.

Red Flag #1 – Author Intrusion In Internal Dialogue

Deep point of view is very personal so internal dialogue works best when it feels organic. Ask whether a character would really explain this to themselves if they already know it.

There’s Bob, Cindy’s fourth boyfriend this year, but what’s he done to his hair?

There’s Bob, was he Cindy’s third or fourth boyfriend this year… What’s he done to his hair?

The information that Bob is just one of many boyfriends is “told” in the first example. The second example feels more like the character is talking to themselves, not the reader. If the character already knows who Bob is, why would they explain who he is to themselves? That’s author intrusion — the information is there just for the reader.

If the reader needs some context or information (and you can’t deliver it through dialogue), you have to frame it in such a way that it feels organic to the moment and the character.

Red Flag #2 – Unneccesary Distance

Sentence construction using “when” or “and then” or “when this” and “then that” often leads either to author intrusion and telling OR adding unneccessary distance between the reader and the story. Does that mean you should never use those words? Of course not, but they are red flags.

I was three days into my one week vacation when the phone rang.

I walked down the street and then a dog bit my leg.I hugged myself to keep all the emotions inside when this was the last thing I should’ve done.

It’s narrator-like, isn’t it. Do you talk to yourself like this? The writer is inserting themselves into the story and forcing the reader back on the couch to read the story instead of experience it in real time. At best, it’s adding unneccessary distance for readers. If the reader needs info, it’s usually easier and more organic to have it come out via spoken dialogue.I

When Readers Need Information The POV Character Wouldn’t Say/Think Of Organically…

You’ll often find writers incorporating newbies characters or someone new to a profession or place because they stand in and ask the MC questions that the MC wouldn’t think to answer because they already know the info. Consider Watson and Sherlock Holmes. Watson asks the vital questions readers need the answers to in order to understand the story. But Sherlock wouldn’t volunteer that information, because he already knows the answers himself.

Watson asks the questions readers

Red Flag #3 – Quick Stepping Over Time

Bad: She didn’t remember driving home or climbing into bed and falling asleep.

Bad: She would wake up in the morning and regret the drinking, but right now she was having fun.

Good: She stumbled through the door and fell into bed. Had she closed the door? Who cares. She shut her eyes and gave in to sleep.

Good: She woke up and looked around. Where was she? Bits of memory floated into focus. Right… The bar. The drinking. So much drinking. But how did she get home?

Okay: She wrestled her way out of the car, keys jangling with each stumble, begged the lock to turn, and fell into bed.

In deep point of view, the rule is – the reader knows everything the POV character knows, sees, hears, feels, understands/intuits, remembers, etc. But that’s ALL they know. So, if the character doesn’t remember doing any of it then they can’t recall it for readers without breaking POV.

The character can wake up and realize they don’t remember getting there — in hindsight. What you can’t do, is skip over the action and have the POV character recall it to themselves in hindsight. Or comment on the past that hasn’t happened yet as if they’re looking back at a younger self. The action has to happen in real time (past or present tense doesn’t matter).

You could also use a shallower pov technique to show the character’s awareness of their own actions but that you’re just moving them from point a to point b so to speak. (Yes, if you’re doing it intentionally to create a specific effect or as a story-telling tool, telling or a shallow pov is allowed, but not a POV break.)

What aspect of keeping everything immediate, in real time, and tight POV’d do you struggle with when writing deep point of view?

Make sure you check out my book Method Acting for Writers: Learn Deep Point Of View Using Emotional Layering.

How To Use Beats To Keep Long Dialogue Passages Interesting Even If There’s No Action

October 10, 2018 by Lisa Hall-Wilson Leave a Comment

There are times in a manuscript where your characters engage in a longer dialogue exchange. Ideally, those dialogue passages are where important information is revealed for readers. In deep point of view, we want to avoid using dialogue tags (he said, she said) but additionally we don’t want readers to lose track of who’s talking, where the characters are (setting: time and place), or how the POVC (point of view character) feels as the dialogue is happening.

How do you keep long dialogue passages interesting even if there’s no action?

Tags vs Beats vs Stage Directions

We want to avoid dialogue tags in deep point of view and instead use beats (bits of action) to attribute speech. More advanced writers will look to up their game from simply using stage directions to using meaningful beats that move the story forward.

Even the best dialogue can fall flat without effective beats weaving in character thoughts, feelings and/or backstory. Beats can:

help vary the pace
keep the characters alive in our readers’ minds – prevents longer dialogue passages from becoming just talking heads to our readers
attributes dialogue
and identifies the POVC in any scene.

Body Language And Beats

Good beats let the reader in on how the POVC feels about the conversation through body language. Is the character fidgeting while talking, picking at their nails, avoiding eye contact, bouncing their knee, scribbling or doodling instead of taking notes, or plucking at a loose thread? What are they doing with their body that would reveal how they feel or what they’re really thinking? What can the POVC observe and assume about the people they’re talking to?

If they’re not face-to-face with the person they’re talking to, what are they doing that the other person can’t see?

Tone of voice is one element that’s often under-used in these situations. Does their voice get softer or quieter (not the same thing), louder, do they emphasize a certain word or phrase, mumble, begin to talk faster, do they make any noises that would signal delight or frustration?

Whatever emotion they’re feeling as the dialogue progresses, what are they feeling and how does that emotion affect their voice? Someone who’s increasingly upset will grow more tense, rigid, clench their stomach or their jaw — how does that change their voice? If you can really dial into that emotion and how it affects their voice or posture, you can show the reader how your character feels without having to resort to telling.

Utilizing Beats Of Other Characters

I looked at one mss for a student whose POVC was stuck in a bed–they couldn’t move. If your POVC isn’t moving or able to move while talking, is anyone else in the room talking or moving? Can you include some internal dialogue about the movements being distracting, loud, whatever? These don’t have to be long interruptions or pauses in the dialogue.

What other ambient noises could be noticed? Other patrons in a coffee shop? The clink of dishes being cleared from a table? The garbage being emptied? If your POVC isn’t distracted by these noises, could the person they’re talking to turn to notice?

“What are you talking about? I never said that.” Shawn shook his head and looked out the window instead of facing her.

“You did so.” Sherry leaned back for the server to set down their plates of spaghetti. “Now you’re mad I changed my plans because I took you at your word?”

He snorted and pushed his plate away.

“So now I’m selfish for wanting to visit my mom?”

“You’re being irrational.”

“Irrational?” The people in the booth behind Sherry got up from their table and left. “You want to see irrational?” Her voice grew sharp and shrill. “I can do irrational.”

Do you see how in this small bit of dialogue, the beats move the story ahead as much as the actual dialogue? Make every beat count. Don’t just add random action for the sake of attributing dialogue, make your beats work harder than that.

Internal Dialogue As Beats

This is always a great way to attribute dialogue, but be careful inserting thoughts where fast-paced dialogue is supposed to happen. Having “thoughty” characters in a tense action-dialogue scene can undermine the tension. Be strategic.

Someone who’s under intense emotional stress might not be able to filter their thoughts, what they think will come out their mouths. In a situation where a character needs to make quick decisions, having them pause to consider their options without consequence will belie whatever tension you’re trying to create. The internal dialogue must not slow down the pace of the scene. Quick one-word thoughts might be all that’s needed – Run!

Avoid Stage Directions

When choosing beats, try to see the scene from the POVC’s point of view. Don’t just have the character move so the reader knows who’s talking. A beat can be a physical action or gesture or it could be a snippet of internal dialogue. Here’s a snippet where stage directions are used instead of meaningful beats.

“Welcome to Found. Can I show you something?”

The man turned and shrugged. “I had to see it one last time before it goes to a new home.”

Catherne’s mouth hung open a moment. “Mr. Silas?”

“It’s just Silas.” He waved his glass at the room. “I love your gallery. You should advertise more.”

Catherine stared. He had the most beautiful green eyes. She cleared her throat. “My source said your collection was in Europe.” Her source had also told her the painting had been an impulse buy and was kept in storage.

He shrugged. “When I discovered the broker was in Boston, I had to come and visit.”

Catherine smiled. “Let me show you around.”

Let’s look at how I updated that snippet to remove the stage directions and use more meaningful beats.

His dark curls, more of a messed-on-purpose coif, framed his face like a broken halo. She’d bet good money he’d never thrown a hay-bale in his life. “Welcome to Found. Can I show you something?” His suit fit like it was tailored and it framed his physique well.

He nodded at the painting next to him. “I had to see it one last time before it went to a new home.”

Her brows shot up. “Mr. Silas?”

“It’s just Silas.” He waved his glass at the room as though dismissing her formality. “I love your gallery. You should advertise more.”

He had the most beautiful green eyes. Focus Cat! She cleared her throat. “My source said your collection was in Europe.”

“It was an impulse buy. It’s just been sitting in a warehouse, so I thought it was time to stop hoarding my collection and let others enjoy it too.” He lifted a shoulder and winked. “When I discovered the broker and buyer were in Boston, I had to come and visit.”

Heat crept into her cheeks. Was he flirting? “Let me show you around.”

Do you see any difference in terms of understanding how Catherine feels and interprets what’s going on? Now you’re not just observing the scene taking place, like someone in a movie theatre, but (hopefully) you feel like you’re more in the action. You’re seeing the story through her eyes.

Every Beat Should Move The Story Forward

What would distract the POVC or catch their eye/ear? Why does it catch their attention and what can that show readers about how they’re feeling? Are they anxious? What sorts of things would an anxious person notice or take stock of: where are the exits, who’s looming, who looks like they might be out of control, etc.

Are they afraid of being overheard? What would they do/notice to ensure privacy?

Conversely, what would someone whose heart is breaking overlook or fail to notice? Would they be easily distracted or have laser focus on whatever is destroying their world in that moment? Don’t undermine the tension and emotion in the moment to tell the reader what’s going on, because you can always have another character point out what the POVC isn’t noticing. Lower your voice! People are staring. The POVC themselves may be aware of other things going on, but pushes that awareness to the side.

Gah! I’m out of space. Listen, I’m doing a free 5 Day Deep Point Of View Challenge on Facebook staring October 22. It’ll be in a closed Facebook group. You can sign up for the waiting list here so you don’t miss out when I have all the details put together.

Do you notice an improvement when you aim for beats over stage directions? Do you prefer to use dialogue tags even when writing in deep point of view?

5 Ways Deep Point of View Delivers Punch To An Action Scene

June 22, 2018 by Lisa Hall-Wilson 2 Comments

How do you write action scenes that keep readers leaning in, holding their breath, and cheering for the character to win no matter how impossible it looks? Put the reader IN THE ACTION by writing in deep point of view!

Know The Why Of The Action Scene

Just like in every other kind of scene written in deep point of view, know the why for your point of view character (POVC). Why are they fighting right now? Most people take quite a bit of nudging before they’re pushed far enough to take a swing at someone.

The WHY of an action scene must be specific to that character in that moment. The WHY should give the reader insight into the POVCs motives, their character, their priorities, their passion, etc. All fight/action scenes should move the story or the emotional plot ahead. If you can remove that scene without changing the story, it’s not essential. Only essential fight/action scenes get to stay.

Emotions In Action Scenes

Remember, primary emotions are the instinctive, knee-jerk, unthinking emotional responses we have to things. What mix of primary emotions are at play for your character in this action scene? That mix may trigger the fight, flight, or freeze response if there’s danger or threat perceived, or it could trigger a secondary emotion — where there’s a thinking response — TO DO something — with the primary emotions at play.

In action sequences this process must happen fast *snaps fingers* to keep the tension high and the pace moving. Let’s have a look at an example:

“Reacher chose the path of least resistance. He ducked his head and let the punch scythe through the empty air above it. Then he bounced back up, and launched to his feet, and twisted, and used his falling-backward momentum to jerk his elbow into the guy’s kidney, which was rotating around into position just in time. It was a good solid hit. The guy went down hard. Reacher fell back in his chair and sat there like absolutely nothing had happened.”
Lee Child, The Midnight Line, ch 3

So, we have Reacher in a situation that’s escalated to violence. I haven’t included the primary emotions here, but Reacher’s already placed his scarred giant-sized left fist on the table, and then the even bigger more-scarred right fist beside it in a failed attempt to intimidate.

Reacher’s watching the guys around him for tension, for anything that tips him off to action about to happen. So, the primary emotions at play here would be anticipation – hyper vigilance, wariness, plus maybe dread or suspicion that’s led him to seek the information to begin with.

So, the secondary emotion then isn’t anger. It colors more like frustration or irritation because they’re making him work harder than he thinks he should have to to get the information he needs, but he’s flexible. (Many primary emotions can also be secondary emotions depending on the context — if that emotion is a thinking reaction to a primary emotion.)

“It was a good solid hit.” <- This is the internal dialogue in this sequence. This is Reacher’s thinking reaction to the primary emotions he’s experiencing. He hasn’t even broken a sweat — he never felt out of control or in danger, he never exerts himself. His internal dialogue reflects this inner state. Another character with less self-control, less experience, less training, more at stake emotionally, would respond differently to that same mix of primary emotions.

Internal Dialogue In Action Scenes

Internal dialogue is where we communicate/show secondary emotions. Let’s look at a writer whose POVC is a bit more… thoughty than Reacher.

“…George deliberately bumped against her. She [Anna] pulled back from him and instinctively wrapped her arms protectively around herself. He gave her a sneer he hid quickly from the others.
‘Illegitimis nil carborundum,’ she murmured. It was stupid. She knew it even before George’s fist struck out.
She ducked and dodged. Instead of a fist in her stomach, she took it in the shoulder and rolled with it. The small entryway didn’t give her much room to get away from a second blow.
There wasn’t one.
Boyd had George pinned on the ground with a knee in the middle of his back. George wasn’t fighting him, just talking fast…”
Patricia Briggs, Cry Wolf

So, the primary emotions are shown through Anna’s body language. She’s wary, afraid, jumpy, hyper-vigilant. So, how does she react to those emotions (the secondary emotion)? Defiance. “It was stupid.” That’s the internal dialogue here.

This scene feels like it moves a little slower than the Reacher scene. Any romance subgenre tends to be more focused on relationships so that’s reflected here. There’s more internal dialogue, more description in this scene, because that’s Anna’s thinking response to the primary emotions. Fighting back with her fists would be useless, all she has to fight with is her wit and her mouth. Do you see the difference?

Blow By Blow Action Scenes

There are some action scenes that by necessity are stark in their lack of description and internal dialogue. The intention is to create this snap snap snap response to the violence. There’s no time to think, just survive.

The shot thundered across the beach, an echo of the waves. The lead bullet broke his bottom right incisor, tore through his palate, just above his upper teeth, punched through the lower bone of his eye socket, and broke through the skin just in front of his left ear. He staggered back, then dropped down into a sitting position. Pain shot through his head. The blood dripped warmly down his cheek. His left eye wouldn’t focus.
But he was alive.
Deon Meyer, Dead Before Dying

Meyer’s blow-by-blow account is visceral, it makes you want to wince. The only internal dialogue is, “But he was alive.” Where another writer using deep pov throughout the novel might widen the lens and use a shallower point of view to show an out-of-body experience or use a summary technique to force the reader to lean in, Meyer has zoomed way in to create the same but opposite effect for readers.

This is a stylistic choice.

There isn’t a right or wrong amount of internal dialogue or description as long as you keep the pace moving, reveal character, and push the emotional and story arc ahead.

Be intentional about this. What effect are you trying to create?

I had a situation where I had two POVCs in an action scene. I had initially written the scene from the female perspective, the victim of the violence. But I rewrote it in the male POVCs voice as a sytlistic choice based on where I wanted to focus readers’ attention. If we were making movies, we might think of this in terms of which actor do we point the camera at to best tell the story in this scene?

What Tone Are You Creating?

The tone of the fight scene should dictate how deep the point of view is in an action/fight scene. Are you trying to create a feeling of raw shock and awe like the last example? Zoom in close and use cold, fast verbs (broke, tore, punch).

Cold efficiency and proficiency like in the Reacher example? The action will be clean, fast-paced, and without a lot of description. The reader does most of the heavy lifting because the description is so sparse.

The underdog facing a bully’s fists like in the Patricia Briggs’ example? There’s more internal dialogue, more description of what’s being felt – physically and emotionally.

Use similes and metaphors and descriptors that readers can relate to. Short, quick descriptions can be very powerful. Describing a character’s clothes as wet with blood for instance, not many of us will have been drenched with blood (thankfully) but we’ve all been thoroughly soaked while still clothed. This pairs an unfamiliar experience with a familiar physical sensation. In this way, we can write what we know even in action scenes.

Do you have a favorite action/fight scene from a novel?

Make sure you check out my book Method Acting for Writers: Learn Deep Point Of View Using Emotional Layering.

4 Ways Writers Cheat Reality With Internal Dialogue To Write Better Fiction

March 23, 2018 by Lisa Hall-Wilson 1 Comment

Emotion In Internal Dialogue

Internal dialogue is the power horse of deep point of view. Because this style of writing is personal and intimate, the things we tell ourselves, our internal observations, opinions and biases makes up a significant part of the conflict in the story. Internal dialogue is often the vehicle through which setting, subtext, and often the emotional punch are delivered. There are a lot of things we think privately we’d never want to be known more widely, yet that’s where the reader lives for the duration of the story in deep point of view.

Deep point of view strives to bring as much realism as possible into our storytelling. We need to understand how our brains work in real life and where we sometimes have to cheat reality just a little to make a better reading experience. This is a great companion post to my free 5-day e course on Writing Emotions in Layers.

Compress

In real life, someone in emotional distress will chant, they might ramble on and repeat the same thing for ten minutes or more. You have to compress that in fiction. No one wants to read eight pages of a character chanting or repeating (internally or verbally) the same phrase out of shock. You have to compress what might be a realistic reaction. Give the impression a character is repeating herself without writing it out or just say it once or twice and move on. You can give the reader the idea they’ve been stuck like this, chanting, rocking – whatever, without bogging down the story pace.

Scale-able

Remember to keep the emotions scale-able. Whatever the inciting incident is, whatever sets your main character into conflict, this absolutely needs to be intense, but the general rule is it can’t eclipse the final conflict in emotional toll or impact. Make sure whatever emotion you start off with is scale-able. Now, if you’re writing for a Happy Ever After (HEA) ending, you’ll want to tie things up in a neat bow and leave everyone happy. If you’re looking for a more realistic ending, you’ll need to make sure your character loses something important at the end of the story.

Psychology

There are a lot of really great psychology books out there that will help your writing in BIG ways. One that’s a personal favorite is Brené Brown’s Rising Strong. Don’t shortchange your readers on the emotional journey however painful. Writers like Nicholas Sparks, George R. R. Martin, and Jodi Picoult are experts at torturing readers alongside their characters. Depending on your own preferences or those of your readers, you can choose how gritty this emotional journey will be, but it must have an emotional punch.

Where books like this are helpful to writers is breaking down the mental process of finding the root of problems. Go through this process of self-discovery personally as well as with your characters. Identify the problematic behavior and work backwards until you’ve landed on the unique mixture of coping and defense mechanisms behind the behavior. Those defense mechanism hide or compensate for an emotional hurt/wound. Determine what caused the hurt/wound. What blend of characteristics makes your character weak or vulnerable to this hurt? How does this wound continue to cause them pain?

And this is where you’ll have to break from reality. You’ll have to create perfect storm-like scenarios where your character’s original hurt/wound is exposed. This can feel artificial but your story has to fit inside your genre’s word count expectations. (Here’s a great post from Anne R. Allen on genre word count expectations.) Often, in real life, this process takes place over years, has a lot of false starts, missteps, and backtracking. In fiction, you are restricted to the narrow timeline of your story.

Time

The rule in deep point of view is to avoid naming emotions. There are exceptions to this depending on how much time has passed since the traumatic event. Emotions are processed by both the left and right parts of our brains. We FEEL with one half, and analyze and label with the other half of our brain and that transition takes time. Ever had that sense where you’re overwhelmed (shock, surprise, etc) and you aren’t able to articulate or express what or how you feel until hours later or the next day? This is why.

Some people get stuck at this stage and never learn enough self-awareness to label or work through how they feel. Instead, they self-medicate with alcohol, anger, perfectionism, drugs, workaholism, etc. They focus on not feeling anything. Typically though, the more time we’ve had to process an event the better able we are to think through how we feel. Some people need to talk this out, others will journal, others will need time alone just to think. How the emotions are processed is very individual, but the passage of time affects how we talk and think about emotional trauma.

It’s important to understand primary and secondary emotions and how they should affect our storytelling.

The more time that passes between a traumatic emotional event and the memory of it, the more realistic it is to label the emotions that were felt. I’ve written before about writing a traumatic backstory for your characters. But, remember that the power of Deep POV is immediacy, so this should be the exception to how emotions are expressed not the norm.

Resist the temptation to use a heavy hand and bluntly label an emotion just because it’s a historical event. How ready are you to talk about the death of someone you loved very deeply? Even years later, you’ll likely be willing to talk about the person but not go into detail about the death itself especially if it was traumatic for you in some way.

When my father and grandfather get together, they’ll reminisce about the years when my dad was young and the various escapades and adventures that took place. However, there was a messy divorce and separation when my dad was a teen, so these trips down memory lane rarely include any mention of the teen years or my grandmother. It’s acknowledged she was around but little more.

We have a way of talking around the things that are still a bit raw, but with internal dialogue in ficiton we can bypass this tendency. Your character may be able to fool everyone around them that this past event doesn’t affect them anymore, but the reader needs to know how much it still hurts.

Want to learn more about deep point of view? Heard about it and don’t know what it’s really about? Been told readers struggle to connect with your characters emotionally? Know about deep point of view, but stumped trying to find intermediate-level resources? Registration is now open for Method Acting For Writers: Learn To Write In Deep Point Of View. Class begins May 7 and the cost is $165CDN (approx $130USD).

How Connotation And Subtext Convey Meaning Between The Lines

April 5, 2012 by Lisa Hall-Wilson 21 Comments

Connotation helps add unspoken meaning to readers through subtext. Connotation helps you show your reader backstory and character traits without telling them anything. It’s the writer’s job to be as economical as possible and make words pull double duty (say as many things to a reader as possible) so getting connotation to work FOR YOU is very helpful. At the very least, make sure it’s not working against you.

When someone drags their past into a situation we say they’ve got baggage. Every word has baggage. Every word has a past, an association, a history, and that’s brought with it into your work. Sometimes that baggage belongs to the reader – you can’t help that, sometimes it’s a historical event or etymology.

History Lends Connotation

If you decide to set your story in Chernobyl, that place name brings a lot of baggage with it. It could be a phrase: “I am no man!” or how about “Live long and prosper.” If a character uses those phrases that gives readers insights into your character.

My kids have each taken a turn reading The Great Gatsby and Fitzgerald uses the term “concentration camp” to mean something other than a reference to the death camps in World War 2. Of course, Gatsby was written before World War 2, but my teenagers stumbled over that trying to understand what Fitzgerald intended by using that term. I was editing a translation and the writer used ‘concentration camp’ which I substituted for ‘forced labor camp’ because the association to the death camps in World War 2 wasn’t intended.

You can’t shrug off connotation. You can’t say to yourself – well, I mean this word this way — because you won’t be in the ear of every reader explaining that to them, right. Be specific with your words.

Part Of Connotation Is Etymology

et·y·mol·o·gy: The study of the origin of words and the way in which their meanings have changed throughout history.

Anyone who’s studied Shakespeare, Donne, Milton, Chaucer, etc. knows that language changes, it evolves. We don’t speak the same way they did in 1066 or 1546, and while we still use some of the same words, the meanings and usage may have changed. If you look in a dictionary, it will give you the etymology of a word whether its roots are in French, Old English (OE), Latin, or another language. Etymology is why English words have so many nuanced meanings based on context.

Nude is from the Latin (1525–35) nūdus: lacking clothing or covering, color of a white-person’s flesh

Naked is Middle English from the Old English (pre 900) nacod: lacking embellishment, lacking confirmation or support, unaided by device or instrument, devoid of concealment or covering

(definitions from Merriam-Webster.com)

One word is older than the other, and both have distinct origins. This should tip you off that though they mean basically the same thing, the connotation (added layer of meaning) is different for each one. There’s a vulnerability to naked – as though a naked person is lacking something – is deficient in some way. Whereas nude is more refined – leads me to think of art, of shedding the burden of a covering, nude is a choice, you’re au naturel. The history of the word is especially important to those writing any historical genres. Jamie Fraser from Outlander would never say something was “spic and span” but Claire might.

Connotation Adds To Character Voice

I’ve read many manuscripts that didn’t take these nuanced meanings into account when choosing a word. These nuanced meanings come into play with character voice as well. What word would your point of view character use based on their upbringing, past experiences, prejudices, etc.

Maybe your teenage point of view character would describe school as a concentration camp–that would show us a few things about how that character sees the world, right. I’ve had people say to me, “I feel naked with my …” fill in the blank. I feel naked without my wedding ring. What would that show readers about a character who said or thought that? Their identity is wrapped up in marriage somehow – who they’re married to, that they’re married, they feel vulnerable, etc.

In an intimate scene, a woman who sheds her clothing to stand nude before her man strikes me as natural, confident, alluring, unashamed. In that same scene, if the woman is naked there’s a raw sexuality to it, she’s lacking something she should have – she’s exposed. A nude woman gets up from the bed and walks to the bathroom unconcerned if she’s observed. A naked woman wraps the sheet around herself before walking to the bathroom.

These distinctions add layers and depth through subtext to readers, about how they feel, how they perceive things, their prejudices or experience.

Personal Associations Bring Connotation

While you can’t help the personal connotations a reader brings to your work, you should manipulate the connotation your characters bring to the story. If your character is a woman who was sexually abused as a child, she might not ever use the word nude, even when it’s appropriate.

Feminist is a word loaded with social connotation right now. Some see a person wearing that label as a left-wing zealot and others see them as couragous social warriors. Sometimes a word can be both things, so you’ll either need to explain how your character means it or choose a different word.

Connotation Can Be Negative Or Positive

Often, we turn to the thesaurus when we’re stumped for the right word and there’s nothing wrong with that. But be aware that words often carry connotation with them, and may not be as interchangeable as you’d like to think. We do this all the time as writers, we just need to do it consciously and strategically. Is your character thin or gaunt? It’s all in how you frame it.

Let’s look at a common word: seductive

The dictionary gives me these synonyms: attractive, captivating, charming, enticing, fascinating, flirtatous, inviting, irresistable, provacative, tempting, beguiling, bewitching, desireable, come-hither…

A woman who is attractive and charming is not necessarily provocative or flirtatous. Be sure of the connotation the word brings to your story and your character’s intentions and feelings.

You can get a copy of my book Method Acting For Writers: Learn Deep Point of View Using Emotional Layers here.