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Written by Elizabeth Genco
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Monday, 23 May 2005 |
Want to keep your readers with you for the long haul? Give 'em something to relate to. Learn to make your emotions work for you and your stories.
Let's step into the wayback machine for a second here. New York City, my life, early 2002. Between the ending of a four-year relationship, the loss of my job, the start of a new job, an "oh yeah… writing…" epiphany, and -- oh, yeah -- that whole terrorist episode, I had a lot to sort out. How did I deal? By learning everything I could about the comics industry. Why not, right?
Now, bear in mind that I was starting from absolute zero, here, with no previous experience in either comics or writing fiction. Like many others, the now-defunct Warren Ellis forum served as my gateway to the insanity. I didn't know a lot about him, but clearly he had smart stuff to say about comics and how the industry worked. I bought a copy of the COME IN ALONE essays at Hanley's, and started reading them on the subway. I consumed a lot of comics, too. Some of them were fabulous, others awful.
Despite the fact that I'd always been an avid reader, I'd never considered the workings of what I'd read -- why something turned me on or off. But things were different now. I wanted to write stories too. And I knew that the best place to learn about story was from the stories themselves. And working writers.
So I'm sitting there one day, with Warren's book in one hand and a highlighter in the other. Somewhere about two-thirds of the way into the book, I stumble on an interview with a guy named Mark Waid.
For whatever reason, KINGDOM COME hadn't yet made it to my list of "the classics", and I'd never heard of Waid. Witty, charming, and obviously whip-smart, Mark grabbed me right from the start. Then he said something that really made me sit up and take notice. Warren asked him what he was going to teach "[the] new generation of writers"; here's his reply:
"That being honestly in touch with your emotions qualifies you for a shot at writing as many comics as you can, but reading eight thousand comic books doesn't qualify you to write even one."
Holy smokes, I thought. That's it. That's totally it. I pondered the last comic I read in light of this newsflash.
Yeah, this guy was definitely on to something. (Not to mention the obvious encouragement -- you mean it's okay that I haven't read eight thousand comics? Hallelujah.)
"Some of the most fun I have every year at conventions is at Wizard World, where I always give an informal lecture on How To Write. The lesson I most mercilessly bludgeon the classes with (besides clarity, clarity, clarity) is to write from the heart and project themselves into the characters whose lives they want to chronicle. To open up their goddamned veins and bleed into the keyboard and MAKE. ME. FEEL. It's not hard to do, even if you're writing about superbeings who are smart and powerful enough to do anything but remember to wear their underwear inside their pants. I don't know what it's like to fly, but I sure as hell know what it feels like to race out the doors of school on the first afternoon of Summer Vacation. I don't know what it's like to lift a car over my head, but I recognize the pride and glow of achievement against the odds. I don't know what it's like to face off against Dr. Doom, but I remember having to stand up to bullies."
That night, I went back through my recent reading and divided those comics into two piles: "made me feel" and "didn't make me feel". It came as no surprise that the former bore a one-to-one correspondence to my visceral "This is good!" reactions, and the latter aligned firmly with "This sucks."
And lo, a lesson was learned. To this day, the interview remains one of my personal turning points. That's when things began falling into place.
Nowadays, this rule of emotional engagement is so obvious to me, I can't even imagine how people forget it, or (horrors) try to get away without it. In fact, try to get away without it and I'll reward you with closing your damn book prematurely and never picking up anything you write ever again. I sense I'm not alone in this, even if other practitioners may not have thought about it as much as I have. Visceral reactions, remember.
Yeah, yeah, ok, so you like shoot 'em ups. You like car chases, babes, big knock-- er, 'splosions… comics are supposed to be action, right? Right. So, emotions: what's the use?
One, emotions are at the root of conflict, and conflict, of course, is the root of a good story. Emotions equals conflict equals story; emotions equals story. (The law of transitivity, ladies and gentlemen.) Pretty straightforward, that.
The second crucial use of emotions has everything to do with the experience of your audience. Remember, your job as a writer is to help the reader get lost in your tale. Readers get lost when your story engages them fully. How do you do that? Get them personally involved with the characters. Make them feel like they can relate to all the tests and tribulations that your hero (or your villain, even) goes through.
If your readers can empathize with your characters, if they can really feel what's going on with them down deep in the tummy, then all of a sudden, your story is more than just a series of events. It's personal. They have a stake in the outcome. They're going to keep reading.
As Waid said, you don't have to have battled super foes to relate to what superheros go through, since we've all had to deal with bullies. Take DEMO, a 12-issue miniseries by Brian Wood. Maybe you didn't grow up under the same circumstances as Wood's kids, but you've probably felt like the outsider. Maybe you still do. Maybe once upon a time you felt trapped by your hometown or circumstance. If so, I bet that issue 4 resonated with you as much as it did with me.
So, making your characters (and your readers) feel is a good thing. But it's also a tricky thing. Why? Because it's going to take you to some not-so-nice places. It's uncomfortable, and that's no fun. Who likes traipsing through the dark night of the soul? Straight up: it takes guts. And it's an easier process for some writers than others. It's certainly not always easy for me, and I'm rather a fan of emoting.
Nonetheless, I firmly believe that you've gotta try to go there. Otherwise, as Waid once put it to me, you're just typing.
If you still need convincing on the emotions tip, consider this. Recently, our friend Dean Haspiel invited Leland and I to come 'round for a movie. Dean suffers from New Yorker's Small Apartment Syndrome just like the rest of us, so he was giving away a lot of comics that he knew that he would never read again. Here's a common exchange as we went through the giveaway pile:
Me, holding up a comic: "How did you like this?"
Dean, making a face: "That… yeah."
Me: "Yeah."
Dean: "I just don't care about that, you know?"
Yeah, I know.
I rest my case.
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