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Lisa Hall-Wilson

Beyond Basics For Writers

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How To Write Fear Authentically Even If You Don’t Write Thrillers

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Boo! What better day to write about the body language of fear than the scariest day of the year!

A Deeper Look At Fear

Fear can range from mild to paralyzing. What’s interesting though is that fear caused by a real immediate threat is rarely paralyzing. Our bodies and minds instinctually engage in a race for survival. Usually the fears that can leave us paralyzed are imagined (what ifs).

Chronic stress is a low-intensity fear response to worry, daily insecurity, anxiety, etc. The more I learned about the body language of fear, the more I realized that fear is an emotion that every novelist should know more about because it’s laced in virtually every character arc ever written.

**Sorry if you thought this post was only for horror/thriller authors.** smile **not sorry**

4 Components Of Fear

Fear can be partly instinct, partly learned, partly taught, partly imagined. Pain causes instinctive fear – survival instinct. Falling is an instinctive fear present even in newborns. Past experiences can create learned fears – a young child will learn to fear bunk beds if they had a friend fall out of one and seriously injure themselves. Social context can teach fear of a particular person (avoid your uncle – don’t ever be alone with him) or various forms of racism. The fear of public speaking is largely imagined, but what’s really at stake is reputation, identity, self-worth.

What blend of fear does your character feel?

“Wendy? Darling? Light, of my life. I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m just going to bash your brains in.” 
― Stephen King, The Shining

The Role Of Intuition

Humans have this wonderful gift of intuition. The problem is we don’t listen to it often enough. We perceive a threat (could have been body language, past experience, a friend’s experience, an article we read a year ago) but we discount that perception in favor of what we can see. When you take that admitted predisposition and place a character in a situation that feels threatening but they can’t see anything threatening the fear is ramped up.

Gavin De Becker in his book The Gift of Fear talks about a woman waiting for an elevator. The doors open and inside is a young man in a suit who leers at her and bobs his eyebrows suggestively. Given the statistics about violence against women, her own past experiences and those of her friends, the isolated location, etc. she’s not crazy for perceiving this man as a threat. But rather than obey her intuition and wait for the next elevator, she’ll get into the sound-proof steel box – because he looks OK.

We allow ourselves to disregard our intuition if we can’t explain it logically – he doesn’t look like a rapist.

In fiction, the role of intuition — especially if the character ignores it, is a great device to show the reader unease and discomfort and tip them off that something bad is about to or could happen. The conflict between internal dialogue and physiological response can be juxtaposed with what’s expressed outwardly.

“It is understandable that the perspectives of men and women on safety are so different – men and women live in different worlds…most men fear getting laughed at or humiliated by a romantic prospect while women fear rape and death.” Gavin De Becker, The Gift of Fear

Answering The Why Question

Remember, we have to answer the why question for readers so we work backwards. Why is your character afraid? What is it exactly they’re afraid of and what’s at stake? What do they stand to lose?

Don’t just go through the motions on this. Really dig deep for these answers because the why is how you show the emotion. In deep point of view, we avoid naming emotions so you’ll have to show your reader the excitement or fear through body language, physiology, internal dialogue and spoken dialogue.

This is a guest post for Writers In The Storm blog. Read the full blog post here.

 

Registration is open now for my 8 week course Method Acting For Writers: Learn Deep Point Of View Using Emotional Layers.  Registration closes in THREE DAYS!! Don’t wait!

 

 

How To Write About PTSD In Deep Point Of View

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We’re always looking to create dynamic characters who are faced with insurmountable (and often life-threatening) obstacles. Characters who are at war with themselves in addition to any external conflict just makes good fiction, and one popular or common internal conflict writers use is post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

The problem is writers research symptoms and run with it. There’s so much more to PTSD than flashbacks that can add emotional layers, depth, and connection for readers.

Why Write About PTSD?

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) has been called shell shock and historically was lumped in with ‘hysteria’ for women. You can research this mental illness, the causes, and the symptoms, (here’s a great link), but I’m more interested in helping you write it with accuracy.

Giving characters a traumatic past and an ongoing condition that hinders their ability to move on is great for character arc if you can pull it off. Otherwise it can come off sounding trite. The character struggling with PTSD is facing overwhelming odds, and any character who stands up to a bully of any kind (even when it’s a mental illness) is someone readers will cheer for.

Recalling Traumatic Events

It’s true that flashbacks can happen with PTSD. What’s really happening with PTSD is that your mind is stuck and forces your body to relive a traumatic event as though it’s happening in real time. So whether the PTSD was caused in a combat situation, a hospital room, or a dark bedroom – your mind convinces your body that you’re right back there again.

Only the most severe cases have flashbacks though. What might be fun to play with is the person discovering their PTSD. They don’t know what’s going on with their bodies, and unless they learn to be very self-reflective won’t be able to figure out what’s wrong.

Who consciously relives traumatic events on purpose? Nobody. But I see this all the time in fiction — as though that’s the only way PTSD manifests. More likely, those memories are shoved to the very back of the mind and actively avoided, and numbed when avoidance isn’t possible. Instead, show the coping mechanisms used to control the symptoms or turn their mind off (escapism, fantasy, porn, drugs, alcohol). Show symptoms of anxiety (sweating, twitchy/jumpy, checking exits, feeling of being trapped – needing to get out/escape) and then send them for another lap around the block even though they’ve already done five more than usual.

The emotions and physical symptoms left by the trauma are so uncomfortable your character will proactively seek a way to get control, but they will avoid thinking about the why. Try showing the emotions and discomfort and leave the memories to be discovered like a bread crumb trail in the woods.

Show The War Going On Inside Your Character

When PTSD is triggered, an adrenaline rush hits with something close to the force the traumatic event caused. The unconscious mind is triggered and it alerts the body to imminent danger — except your conscious mind is aware there’s no danger at all — so you’re at war with yourself quite literally. It will seem to come out of nowhere or can build up slowly to a crashing crescendo.

While part of your mind is hitting the red alert button, the other part of your mind is consciously grappling with your body’s response to the perceived threat and regain control of the physical response. How would this look to an observer? The response will trigger the survival instinct of: fight, flight, or freeze. Will they come out angry, shouting, defensive? Will they try to escape, come up with crazy nonsensical excuses to leave or simply not come after they’ve promised to? Will they stay where they are because running or fighting isn’t going to help them survive – subterfuge, avoidance and compliance will? Will they stay at the party even though they look like they’re being tortured every second of it?

What Does PTSD Look Like?

The physical symptoms are easy to show; just write what’s happening to their bodies. Let internal dialogue focus on their awareness of being irrational, that there’s no threat, yet they’re unable to feel safe. They’ll struggle to control, to conceal, to minimize what others can see. Get it? I’m a BIG fan of Deep POV so I focus on showing the primary emotions through physiology and internal dialogue and showing secondary emotions through outward actions and spoken dialogue.

The Netflix series Jessica Jones is about a woman who struggles with PTSD but won’t admit it. She chooses to numb her emotions with alcohol, anger, and by pushing everyone away. She’s hard to like. But we can cheer for her because every episode she manages to put that aside long enough to help someone who can’t help themselves — she puts herself in danger even though she doesn’t want to because she knows she’s the only one who can help. But the PTSD and addiction is like an anchor everywhere she goes.

 

PTSD Is About Minimizing Triggers

Those managing PTSD will have a proactive (but not necessarily healthy) strategy to manage symptoms. Some methods might be subtle while others are extreme. Know what your character’s primal goal is when they’re triggered. Is it safety? Is it survival? Is it escaping? Have them seek that out at all costs.

They could have a mantra they recite to control their thoughts. They might have a safe person, someone they trust to watch their backs in new or upsetting situations. Grounding techniques involve consciously cataloguing why the what-ifs won’t happen (There are two exits, It’s a public space, etc.). The slow removal of their dependence on these management techniques is a great way to show growth.

Those who know what their triggers are will actively avoid situations that might set them off. This is a potential for conflict – force them into a situation where they’re uncomfortable, where they feel threatened or unsafe. Put them in new situations. I wasn’t aware that exercise fatigue mimicked my PTSD symptoms, so I was triggered by a jerk at the gym and couldn’t feel it coming on because I was in the middle of a workout. The times when you’re triggered without warning are the worst. Being blindsided by it sets you back days, weeks, even months.

Give Them A Tell

Self-awareness is critical, it’s a hyperawareness often because if you can see it coming or starting you can get off the crazy train before it really gets going. Your unconscious mind will get the ball rolling after a trigger: I’m not safe. I’m not safe. You have to be aware of that mental shift and think your way out of it but more often what tips you off is physical symptoms.

I have a couple of tells that always tip me off: blushing and sweating—profuse sweating disproportionate to the environment. Does your character have a physical symptom they’ve trained themselves to watch for? Are they suddenly jumpy or have an intense urge to leave no matter what?

They’ll want to hide what’s going on because it makes others uncomfortable (people stare, they avoid the character, or treat them differently). Show the character’s awareness of the stigma, and let them fail from time to time.

Blindside Your Character

You can be blindsided by a trigger at any point. A situation that’s been fine a thousand other times can trigger you that one day. This is a great device to save for a pivotal conflict.

It’s like a two-by-four to the head. Show their emotional wounds bleeding all over the floor and have them keep going anyway. Show them growing stronger, trusting people again against their instincts, forgiving themselves because they couldn’t get a hold of themselves again, etc. Let the whole process be messy, two steps forward and one step back. The stories that end in a pretty bow and leave everyone “cured” simply aren’t authentic.

Have a question you’d like to ask about writing PTSD in fiction with realism? What’s the most compelling portrayal of PTSD in fiction you’ve seen so far?

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

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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?

3 Tips On Writing Internal Conflict With Emotional Punch

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Does your main character have a line in the sand, a personal boundary or belief they will not violate? This internal conflict is central stories written in deep point of view often. What happens if the character violates their belief or boundary? What would they sacrifice in order to avoid crossing that line? What would either action show readers about what kind of person they are?

In Mission Impossible: Fallout near the very beginning of the movie, Tom Cruise’s character Ethan Hunt draws a line in the sand that defines his actions for the rest of the movie. Benji is anxious about a deal they’re trying to make happen and Hunt turns to him and says, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

That line in the sand isn’t just about Benji. Hunt means it for anyone he cares about or works with. If he feels responsible for you, he won’t let anything happen to you. (Nothing permanent, anyway.)

In the movie Law Abiding Citizen with Jamie Fox and Gerard Butler, the goal of Butler’s antagonist is to convince Fox’s lawyer character: I don’t make deals with criminals. That’s the line in the sand.

I’ll never be hungry again! – Scarlet O’Hara

What Does Internal Conflict Look Like?

Internal conflict is the experience of having opposing psychological beliefs, desires, impulses or feelings — when you believe one thing and act in a different way. If you want to Google it and learn more, you’ll want to search for cognitive dissonance. This internal conflict is often a battle between what we know and what we feel. Most of the time, people crave consistency, so this internal conflict is when we’re basically at war with ourselves but it’s how we justify our behavior or correct course. This can lead to irrational behavior.

People struggling with internal conflict are squeamish. They might turn pale or lose color. They might feel dizzy or lightheaded. They might tremble or even pass out. Most of these reactions are observable, so another character could comment on them. A character in deep point of view can share the feeling of being dizzy, trembling, feeling lightheaded, queasy or nauseous.

People justify their actions, often audibly. Consider the guy who finds the courage to talk to or ask a girl out and she brushes him off. He’ll have this inner conflict, knowing he hasn’t really lost anything and feeling rejected or unwanted. One way he might choose to create consistency again, regain control of his feelings, is to justify why it didn’t work out. She wasn’t as pretty up close. She’s actually a snob and I’m better off without her. Or perhaps he decides she wants him to work harder so he doubles down and creates consistency between what he believes and how he feels that way.

Another facet of the above point is ignoring what’s plain to everyone else. The woman in an abusive relationship might know her boyfriend is toxic to her wellbeing, but feels like she can’t leave. Leaving means being alone, means supporting herself, means not knowing what tomorrow might bring.

It could mean that every derogatory thing he’s ever said to her is actually true, and she’s sure she’d face any negative consequences he’s threatened. So to create consistency between what she knows and feels, she avoids acknowledging the abuse. She justifies or explains away his behavior so that she doesn’t have to do anything about it.

What Emotional Layers Could Be At Play With Internal Conflict

There are dozens of emotions possible with internal conflict based on what’s at stake, right. In Laurel K. Hamilton’s Blue Moon, the protagonist Anita Blake doesn’t believe in torture. But there’s a short scene where she’s desperate to get the truth from someone and resorts to torture. She crossed her own line in the sand. She’s disregarded what she knows and gave in to how she felt.

The fallout of that is her renewed faith in the boundary that she won’t torture, and when it comes up again in the novel where she needs information from someone and is encouraged to expedite the process with pain, she refuses and that costs her emotionally. As soon as a character questions their abilities or self-worth and sees themselves falling short in some way, we have shame.

Shame is a very powerful emotion to play with as a writer. Shame doesn’t tell us we did a bad thing, shame says we are bad. Shame is so heavy, such a burden emotionally that typically people will do anything to get out from under that weight. But shame is a secondary emotion, so work backwards and identify the primary emotions that would cause shame.

Subtext Is Needed For Internal Conflict

The only way internal conflict works as a story device for emotional arc is when the reader is aware of the conflict in the protagonist. The best way to show this to readers is to use subtext. This is a more advanced fiction writing tool, but if you can master subtext you’ll take your writing to another level. Subtext is what’s not being said, it’s the unspoken communication. I’ve written about subtext here and here and here.

Can you think of a movie or book that had really great internal conflict that ratcheted up the stakes for the protagonist?

 

 

Get your copy of Method Acting for Writers: Learn Deep Point of View Using Emotional Layers on Amazon or Kobo.

3 Ingredients You Need To Make Readers Feel

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I get so many writers telling me that what they want is to make their readers feel something. Their goal is to make a reader laugh, cry, shake their fist at the sky–whatever, either to cheer on the character or cry in sympathy with them. Deep point of view is a great stylstic choice to do this, but there are three key ingredients to create emotion in deep pov:

authenticity

specificity

emotional triggers

Malcolm Gladwell in his Revisionist History podcast episode “King of Tears” said: “Beauty and authenticity can create a mood, they set the stage, but I think the thing that pushes us over the top into tears is details. We cry when melancholy collides with specificity. And specificity is not something every genre does well.”

Emotional Triggers

I talk about emotional triggers in my book Method Acting For Writers: Learn Deep Point of View Using Emotional Layers. Primary emotions are the gut-reaction, unthinking, instinctive emotional reactions to people and situations. Secondary emotions are the thinking response to those primary emotions. We must DO something with all these emotions and that’s where an observable behavior comes into play. Where things can get muddled are with emotional triggers.

Emotional triggers catapult us immediately to the secondary emotion or behaviour without us understanding or processing the primary emotions involved. We’re instantly angry or full of shame and lash out verbally. It’s a practiced reaction that’s happened so often we don’t even recognize what’s going on.

Emotional triggers cause sympathy because they’re quick–sudden, often irrational, and usually don’t correspond to the intensity of the situation. For readers to empathize or ‘feel’ alongside the main character, they have to understand WHY the point of view character is behaving this way.

A woman with PTSD is at the gym. She knows her triggers are men who are bigger than her, but she’s navigated this scene before so she feels safe. While on the floor exercising, a very large man stands over her and winks. That’s enough to trigger her PTSD.

She skitters out from under him, her heart pounding, sweat begins rolling down her face, and she nearly runs away. Her reaction is out of sync with the situation, she won’t even be able to articulate in that moment what’s going on (this is the essence of a trigger), but if you ask her all she’ll say is she’s not safe. But there’s no real threat. A reader will lean in if they understand the trauma she’s reliving and her utter terror at having anyone learn why she’s reacting the way she is.

Specificity

Being specific with sensory details and descriptions can ratchet up the emotional tension quickly.

“Marguerite was dark, greasy-skinned and morose-looking, wearing a shiny purple dress that appeared to have been bought when she was a little thinner.” The Silkworm, Robert Galbraith

“But my father stood like a stone tucked into the earth.” Sky In The Deep, Adrienne Young

These are very specific word pictures through the point of view of at best-secondary characters. Do you know how each point of view character feels about the person they’re describing above? Stories are rooted in a specific time and place. Opinions, prejudices, fears are tied to specific experiences. Too many writers skim over the details that would pull a reader deeper into the story.

Chose metaphors and similies that are specific, that create a word picture readers can picture. Choosing which details to be specific about is critical because describing every single thing with intense specificity is exhausting and will kill the pace of your novel.

Let’s look at an example.
Something set the officer’s nerves on edge.

The officer stared at the fidgety kid in the corner who wouldn’t meet his gaze, his cop-sense leaning in for a closer look.

Which example pulls you deeper into the story from the cop’s point of view? Now the reader knows what the cop’s looking for, what he interprets as a warning sign, which is better than just being TOLD the cop is on alert.

Authenticity

Writing in deep point of view #writing #amwriting

“Fiction is the truth inside the lie.” Stephen King

The situations, circumstances, and characters might all be fictional but how they react, their emotions–those we must be truthful with. A character doesn’t have to behave in a way we agree with, but we do have to understand why they’re behaving that way. Remember to maintain logical sequencing: thought then action; action then reaction. A character who’s irrational without reason feels like they’re too stupid to live.

Think about the low-budget hack and slash horror movies with the dumb blond tropes. What rational person knowingly moves closer to life-threatening danger without any plan, weapons, or compelling reason? Yet this happens again and again in some of those movies. I have nothing invested in whether that character lives or dies. That’s not how you create emotion. Depending on how she’s killed, I might feel revulsion but not true fear.

Be honest. This is really hard. I have a beta reader who really pushes me to be more honest than I’m comfortable with in terms of my character’s emotions and actions *mittened fist-bump Holly* and my stories are better for it. Holly keeps saying – I don’t get why she did that. See, Holly doesn’t have to agree with what the character is doing, but she does need to understand why. And the why has to be compelling and seem rational to the character.

When I’m challenged about why a character feels a particular way and the only answer I have is… because – that’s not good enough. You need to know your characters intimately to pull this off. This is part of why I called my book Method Acting For Writers because we need to share our emotional experiences with our characters to create an authenticity readers can immerse themselves in.

What books have you read recently where you found yourself emotionally invested in?

**Make sure to pick up Method Acting For Writers: Deep Point Of View Using Emotional Layers **

How To Get Inside Our Character’s Heads And Make Readers Care

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Getting readers to care and have an emotional connection to our characters is the gold medal run for most novelists. If readers don’t care, if there’s no emotional pull, it gets easy to place a bookmark in a page and walk away. *womp womp*

I’m continuing in my summer series of answering reader questions. Today’s question comes from Jenette who wrote:

“I want to get better at really getting into my character’s head and making readers feel.”

Seeking the answer to this question is what led me to really begin learning about deep point of view and ultimately to writing Method Acting For Writers: Learn Deep Point of View Using Emotional Layers and begin teaching about deep point of view.

Method Acting For Writers

Actors crawl into another person’s or a character’s skin and live out that reality. A writer crawls into a character’s head. What’s common to both is what Stanislavski and Strasberg called affective or emotional memory. It’s the idea of “write what you know”.

The range of emotions available to us now is the same range available to those in any other time or place. Society or culture will dictate how acceptable the expression of various emotions are, time and place, and may even deny other emotions, but whatever your character’s going through you’ve already experienced to some degree. Share that with your readers to make them care!

“I thought the drama was when actors cried. But drama is when the audience cries.” Frank Capra

Let’s walk through a potential scene. Tina is a teenage girl who is pregnant (unplanned) and now has to tell her parents.

Tina has to confess to something she knows will disappoint her parents. Ever had to confess to something you knew would hurt someone you care about? Ever made a decision that disappointed someone you cared about?

Tina’s pregnant because she got drunk at a party and slept with her boyfriend without protection. Ever got caught up in the moment and then regretted it later? Ever had someone with more experience, someone who was older, lead you down the wrong path regardless of the harm it might cause you? (I might have once convinced my little brother a broken dog biscuit was a cookie…)

Tina’s worked really hard to earn an athletic scholarship to university in the fall and now all of that is at risk. Ever had a situation where something you’d been planning for, a dream even, just fell apart? Ever been forced to choose between bad and worse?

Sharing our emotional memories with our characters helps readers connect in deeper ways. This is method acting for writers!Click To Tweet

The collection of emotions at this stage is likely primary emotions. Read more about primary and secondary emotions here.

The Emotional Stakes

Maybe you have more in common with Tina’s character than you thought, right. Now, let’s measure what’s at stake for Tina. We have to filter the storytelling through Tina’s worldview, so we have to know what her family’s “rules” (spoken or unspoken) are about unplanned or unwed pregnancies.

Will she walk into this situation expecting a verbal assault or support? Does admitting she’s pregnant require her to admit to other things like lying or sneaking out or underage drinking or seeing a boy her parents disapprove of? How does she feel about the pregnancy–is she excited or full of dread or indifferent? How does she feel about the father?

All of these additional stakes will help amplify the emotions in the scene.

Now Layer In The WHY.

Why is Tina facing her parents instead of running away, going to a clinic, or simply ignoring the problem for now? What is her goal in this scene? Is she looking for a confrontation or hoping for support to make a difficult decision? Is this pregnancy a way out of a future she didn’t want, a road block, or imminent disaster?

To use emotional memory, recall a situation where you experienced the same emotion. Take confessing something hurtful. What did that really feel like? Close your eyes and really let that memory well up. Swim in it for a short time. What’s happening to your body with that memory? Are you tense? Jumpy? Are you having a hard time sitting still? Now, the degree which you felt that emotion (dread, regret, shame) isn’t as important as being able to amplify it to the appropriate intensity for your character. You then layer in the stakes, your character’s own backstory, etc.

The Ultimate “Write What You Know”

The kernel for this idea came from an interview I did in 2014 with bestselling fantasy and thriller author Ted Dekker. His writing is visceral and full of emotional truth, so I asked him about that process (back when I was still a journalist. Had the chance to meet him in person a few months later – pictured below). Here’s what he said:

“I think that my writing is reflection of my own journey and I use writing to discover. It’s one thing to say that this bulb won’t break if you step on it. It’s an idea, a doctrine. In a story, you take the bulb and you have your characters step on it – you’re testing those theories those ideas in story with real characters stepping on bulbs and seeing what happens.

I write to explore what I’ve been taught or what it means to be who I am…my understanding of who I am has shifted as a result of my writing and my exploration. I’m very real with myself and my characters…I’m writing for my own journey. People who read my books are not afraid of an authentic journey…It’s a journey of transformation. Becoming aware of who we are in a whole new way. I speak out of my own experience and I speak out of some very difficult times that I’ve gone through and there’s nothing more beautiful than becoming aware of who are you.”

By using emotional memory, you can create an intimate perspective for readers that will draw them deeper into the story. In most scenarios, there are shared experiences you can draw on even if the circumstances or intensity doesn’t line up precisely.

Take a minute and sit down with your POVC. Pick a scene from your WIP and ask them a few crucial questions so you can see what you have in common (in terms of experiences). What do they want? What are they afraid of? What they hoping for? How are they afraid this will change them? How does this disappointment hurt–what emotions are touched off? Once I’ve been able to answer those questions, often I’m able to think back on some event from my past. Ahhh, this is just like that time I… and then I’m good.

Will you try this out? Let me know how it goes!

Check out my new book Method Acting For Writers: Learn Deep Point of View Using Emotional Layers. It’s on Amazon in ebook and print.

Check out my free 5-day ecourse on writing emotions in layers here.

All content © 2012-2018 Lisa Hall-Wilson Reproduction of content by permission only.