When it comes to generating conflict, your character’s personality can help ensure that sparks fly, especially when their traits clash with someone else’s.

When people grate on one another their interactions become filled with misunderstandings, power struggles, one-upmanship, and impatience. Whether allies, enemies, or something in between, contrasting viewpoints and attitudes sharpen dialogue, and if tempers flare too far, friction can become all-out conflict.

And guess what–we want these escalations to happen! They keep relationships from getting stale, add plot complications, and keep the pace moving. So bring on those clashes, problems, and fallout, I say. Let characters get under each other’s skin. When people get along, it sucks the tension out of your story faster than a three hundred year old vampire enjoying a human buffet.

There are many ways to create friction– characters could have opposing goals, be competing for the same thing, or have opposite ideas about the path forward. These setups can all work, but only if they don’t come off like a plot device. For readers to see friction as natural, not manufactured, it needs to come from within the characters. An easy way to do this is to let their opposing personalities do the work.

Leaning into Opposites

The low-hanging fruit of clashing personalities is to play with opposites. Methodical and impulsive. Proper and flamboyant. Perfectionistic and lazy. These combinations can be fun to write while juicing interactions with friction. To find trait combos that will cause natural friction, check out these lists from the Positive Trait Thesaurus and the Negative Trait Thesaurus.

Is your character an obsessive rule follower afraid to step outside his comfort zone? Have him be swept up in friendship with someone spontaneous and a bit rebellious. Or is a coworker stealing the credit for your protagonist’s hard work, but she won’t speak up for herself? Pair her with a new cubicle-mate who has confidence in spades and a vengeful streak that ensures all wrongs will be put right.

Opposite traits can be negative, positive, or one of each. It’s all up to you. And, with a bit of extra thought, opposing traits can serve an even deeper purpose: to spotlight a character flaw that’s holding your protagonist back.

Introduce a Character Foil

A character foil is someone whose traits contrast with the protagonist’s, either in big, obvious ways or through a few key differences. This contrast helps readers see how the protagonist is navigating life differently, and maybe it’s not going so well for them.

When a foil character exhibits traits the protagonist lacks (but needs), it creates a mirror moment. The protagonist starts to see their flaws more clearly, and that realization can become a turning point in their character arc. If they want to move forward, something has to change.

Double Down on the Same Trait

Another method is to give two characters the same trait: controlling and controlling, manipulative and manipulative, idealistic x 2. Positive or toxic, characters with identical traits tend to cause the relationship pot to boil, and soon, the battle royale for dominance is on.

Clashing Traits Don’t Always Mean Fireworks

Sometimes writers get a bit too excited over creating relationship tension, as it can lead to some spectacular clashes. Realistically, though, friction is more about getting under each other’s skin just enough to behave like a passive-aggressive jerk.

When irritated, characters may get snarky in their responses, offer backhanded compliments, or deliver a narrow, you’re so stupid stare. Decisions in the moment can be emotion-driven, too. Maybe they withhold advice, information, help or even share a half-truth, knowing it will mess up the other’s plans. My point is, have fun with your friction, especially if it leads to well-deserved consequences!

Also, Friction Isn’t Always Negative

Not all friction is hostile. It can come from navigating healthy boundaries that characters aren’t used to. It can be a part of the learning curve of new cultures and customs. Even people who want the same thing must figure out how to work together, encountering friction through trial and error.

In romance, attraction creates tension. And much of what makes chemistry sizzle on the page is emotional friction—conflicting desires, fears, and how each handles vulnerability.

Friction happens in friendships, family dynamics, the workplace, and other relationships. Whenever two people are wired differently, there’s an opportunity for tension. Unravelling the ‘why’ behind it is what readers show up for.

Choose a Character’s Personality Traits Carefully

While it might seem like a fun way to add drama, clashing traits shouldn’t be assigned without thought. Each character’s personality is a unique window into who they are, where they came from, and the people and experiences they were exposed to before your story began. Credible characters have traits that make sense for their unique history–that’s a big part of what makes them authentic to readers.

If you’d like to understand more about personality traits and how to choose the right ones for a character, give this a read. Happy writing!

What clashing personality traits have you woven into your relationships? Let me know in the comments!

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post Using a Character’s Personality Traits to Generate Conflict appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

Writing intense scenes can be one of the most exciting parts of storytelling. Whether it’s a gripping fight, a romantic encounter that leaves hearts racing, or an emotional moment that hits readers hard, these scenes pull readers in and keep them hooked. But creating truly intense moments takes more than just throwing in action or dramatic emotions. It’s about pacing, sensory details, and staying true to your character.

Fight Scenes: Keep It Clear and High-Stakes

Fight scenes grab attention because they often mean danger or life-and-death moments. But too much focus on body movements or external conflict can make things feel off. To keep things gripping, focus on what’s at stake and how the characters internally react to the fight. Don’t overcomplicate things with unnecessary details—keep the action clear and immediate.

For example, instead of writing: John lunged forward with a feral scream, his fist flying crashing against Mark’s jaw with the force of a freight train. Blood sprayed like a crimson fountain, painting the air in a ghastly tableau.

Try: John lunged forward, his fist connecting with Mark’s jaw. Mark staggered back, tasting blood. He couldn’t afford to go down—not now.

The second version cuts the fluff and keeps readers focused on the action and its impact. By keeping the description tight and concentrating on the immediate stakes, you can make readers feel every hit and every moment of tension.

Romantic Scenes: Go for Subtlety and Sensory Details

When writing passionate scenes, it’s easy to slip into over-the-top territory. Instead, focus on the connection between characters and use sensory details to make it feel real. A well-written romantic scene doesn’t need to scream its intensity—it should evoke the tension and vulnerability in the moment.

You can show the tension and vulnerability through small gestures and understated emotions.

For example, instead of writing: Their lips met in a fiery explosion of desire, their hearts beating as one in the eternal dance of passion.

Try: She hesitated for a moment, her breath catching as his hand brushed her cheek. When their lips finally met, it was slow, tentative—as if neither was sure whether they were ready for the storm they were about to unleash.

This second version feels more genuine because it builds on the characters’ hesitation and the sensory experience. Readers don’t need grand declarations of passion—they need to feel the connection through small, meaningful details.

Emotional Scenes: Let Tension Build

Emotional moments work best when they’re given time to grow. Jumping straight into high emotions can feel jarring, so it’s important to let the tension simmer. Build up to those big emotional beats by showing small actions, bits of dialogue, and even silences.

For example, instead of writing: “You never loved me!” Sarah screamed, tears streaming down her face like rivers. “I gave you everything, and you threw it all away!”

Try: Sarah stood in the doorway, her hands trembling. “I don’t understand,” she said quietly. “I gave you everything. Was it not enough?”

By letting Sarah’s pain emerge gradually through her quiet words and trembling hands, the scene feels more authentic. Readers can sense the buildup of emotions without being hit over the head with melodrama.

Decision Scenes: Show the Inner Conflict

When characters have to make a tough call, the intensity comes from their internal struggle and the pressure of the situation. To capture this well, use short, sharp sentences and show the character’s thought process without over-explaining their feelings.

For example, instead of writing: David clutched his head, torn between two impossible choices. His mind screamed at him to act, but his heart was frozen in fear. “What do I do? What do I do?” he muttered, over and over.

Try: David stared at the two paths ahead. One meant safety. The other, everything he cared about. His hands clenched into fists. He didn’t have time to think—only to choose.

This version creates tension by focusing on David’s immediate dilemma and keeping the language direct. Readers can feel his urgency without being bogged down by too much internal monologue.

General Strategies for Writing Intense Scenes

Trust your readers to understand the emotions without spelling everything out. Instead of telling them how a character feels, show it through actions, dialogue, and reactions. Use strong verbs to convey action and emotion, and engage the senses to draw readers fully into the scene. Remember, not every moment has to be high-energy. Sometimes, quiet moments of reflection or tension make the intense parts stand out even more.

Intense scenes are all about keeping readers hooked and evoking emotion. Don’t be afraid to dive into the deeper layers of your character—just make sure it feels real and earned. By focusing on pacing, sensory details, and character reactions, you can create scenes that stick with readers long after they finish the story.

CHRISTINA DELAY - Resident Writing Coach

Christina Delay is an award-winning author of psychological suspense, as well as mythological-based fantasy written under the pen name Kris Faryn. A wanderer by heart, Christina’s latest adventure has led her and her family to the southwest of France. When not planning their next quest, Christina can be found writing in her garden, hosting writing retreats, sneaking in a nap, or convincing her patooties to call her Empress. If you love books about complex characters who never know when to quit, with a good bit of will-they or won’t-they tension, check out her books.

The post How to Write Intense Scenes That Captivate Readers appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

It’s easy to surmise that propelling readers from one scene to the next relies upon a dramatic closing hook, the evocative or provocative impression at the very end of the scene.

Seemed like everyone was finding someone to pair off with. So when was he going to find a girl of his own?

Or—

Edwina looked the poor sod straight in the eye. “She’s not coming back, Edgar. Ever.”

But although hooks may tantalize, another underlying force is what truly launches readers into the next scene. This dynamic arises from the final step of scene structure: a new outcome—change.

Scenes are designed to move the story forward by creating incremental change at the plot or character levels. Effective scene structure intrinsically sets up a domino effect: The unexpected outcome of one scene sparks curiosity about how the character will cope in the next, kindling the impulse to turn the page.

This is how complete, fully formed scenes get readers itching to see how the seeds of change will grow.

Scenes Create Change

Let’s review the structure of the two most common types of scenes in a novel:

Action Scenes                                                      Reaction (“Sequel”) Scenes

Objective                                                                     Emotion

Obstacle                                                                      Deliberation

Outcome                                                                     Decision

Action and reaction scenes share an important factor in common: Their final phases are all about generating change.

In an action scene, change occurs when something (the “obstacle”) interrupts the viewpoint character’s progress toward their scene objective. This creates an unexpected outcome. Something unanticipated has just occurred, and the inevitable consequences loom just ahead.

One minute they were packed shoulder-to-shoulder in the muggy subway car. The next, the squealing of metal against metal sent the world sideways, and she was tumbling wildly into the dark subterranean depths.

In a reaction scene, the final decision phase reveals the viewpoint character’s change of heart or intentions or plans, telling readers to brace for consequences.

Gripping the zip-tie cuffs, Arjan squeezed his eyes shut against the thrumming pain in his skull. He could walk away from this life of deception and violence once and for all. Or he could seek his revenge.

A dramatic closing hook can focus and magnify this effect, using introspection, foreshadowing, or imagery to hint at the broader struggles, unresolved tensions, or profound transitions the scene has provoked. But that’s the thing—the scene itself should provoke those rumblings. When the scene clearly introduces change, even a glimmer of yearning or glint of optimism can ignite the spark that sets the next scenes into motion.

The Springboard Effect

The unanticipated outcome of each scene pushes the characters urgently into the next, riding the domino or baton-passing effect. Scenes shouldn’t be able to be shuffled about willy-nilly; plucking an effectively crafted scene out of the flow would break the chain of action and reaction that makes one scene lead directly into the next.

Readers rightfully expect the change created by one scene to be addressed promptly in the next. This propagates reader investment: hope or worry, anticipation or suspense.

For example, after a scene ending with Max vowing to leave Jonquil and return to his wife, readers will expect his next scene to begin addressing that tangle. He might be temporarily delayed by other concerns—a delicious way to add tension—but he shouldn’t blithely turn away without further thought. Didn’t that decision matter?

The domino effect of one scene tipping into and kicking off the next forges a chain of progressively escalating complications in the story. This chain is what writers are talking about when they refer to the rising action of a plot, the idea that the conflict (what does happen) and tension (what might happen) spiral to a peak at the climax. The first scene of the story sets off an unstoppable chain reaction, leading to a resolution that feels surprising in the way it happens yet inevitable by virtue of cause and effect.

Think of the scenes as opportunities to drop clues into the links of the story. This may seem like an obvious strategy for a mystery story, but you should exploit this effect in every genre. Scatter breadcrumbs or dangle questions at scene endings, then scoop them up promptly in the next scene, weaving the connective threads into a taut, vibrant storytelling tapestry.

Caveat 1: The Roadblock

Occasionally, a scene might run up against a revelation or cascade of consequences that creates a roadblock with no apparent route forward. This sort of scene—full stop, no way forward—is difficult to pull off if you haven’t planned the story before writing it. When the options are so limited that the character can find no way forward, the plot cannot organically advance—the story is muzzled.

Having the character sit around and wait for a deus ex machina (an outside force to swoop in and solve the problem) frustrates readers, who want stories where the characters solve their problems, not the author. Instead, use a reaction scene to break the deadlock, as the character discovers something new within themselves—an inner breakthrough of some kind.

Some scenes do warrant a note of finality, as a story thread winds to completion. But finality and completion signal endings, and if your story isn’t over yet, you’ll want to maintain the plot’s momentum. Most scenes, especially those at the end of chapters, benefit from a dynamic of change to keep readers turning pages.

Caveat 2: Top Spin

Cliffhanger, edge-of-the-seat pacing frequently leverages a screenwriting technique called top spin. In top spin, the scene cuts off at the peak of tension, just as something interrupts the character’s progress toward their immediate agenda. The scene leaps from this interruption or obstacle directly to the next scene, with no opportunity to show reaction or outcome.

Think of the way TV shows cut off at a cliffhanger before a commercial break, then pick up afterwards in the same stream of action. That’s top spin in action. Top spin creates an extremely strong narrative drive.

“Done well, the drama is then built around confrontation/crisis in a sequence that never seems to stop moving,”  writes John Yorke in Into the Woods: A Five-Act Journey Into Story. “… Every scene ends on a question—partly ‘Where did that come from?’ but more importantly ‘How are they going to get out of that?’ By cutting away at the crisis point, a writer thus creates a sequence in which question is followed by (delayed) answer, which is followed by a question once again. … The technique of ‘come in late, get out early’ simply accelerates this process, forcing every scene to cut off at the ‘worst point’ of a scene.”

A brilliant resource in suspense stories, copious amounts of top spin are better suited to the screen than the page. Unlike movies or TV, which can only watch a character from the outside, novels draw readers into the character’s thoughts and perspective. A book that consistently chops off character reactions as soon as scene reaches its peak circumvents this quality, and readers may decide that the book reads more like a screenplay than a novel they can sink into.

Harnessing the Force of Change

Continuity between scenes depends on more than tacking on a provocative closing hook. The hand-off effect arises organically from scene structure, which generates a reversal or change for the viewpoint character. The allure of how the character will deal with this complication keeps readers turning pages long into the night.

Read more:

Goal-driven action scene structure, the building block of stories
Strategies for smooth scene openings

LISA POISSO - Resident Writing Coach

Lisa Poisso specializes in helping new and emerging fiction writers. A veteran of the disciplined world of classical dance, she brings that same practiced artistry to writing—where structure, form, and technique are springboards that give you freedom of movement on the page. Explore her Writing & Editing Resources for valuable tools to develop your manuscript, and subscribe to the Writes of Fiction newsletter to receive Lisa’s hand-picked writing advice delivered directly to your inbox. Find out more about our RWC team here and connect with Lisa below.

The post The Secret to Page-Turning Scene Endings appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

Is there anything more frustrating than knowing there’s a problem with our story, but not being sure how to fix it?

We wish for an easy button in these moments, but sadly, none exist. Occasionally though, we get lucky and discover a versatile story element or technique so useful it can help us navigate past MANY story problems!

So, storytellers…ready to meet your new best friend?

The All-Powerful Emotion Amplifier

Emotion amplifiers are unique states or conditions that act as a challenge, conflict, and emotional destabilizer all rolled into one. They generate internal strain and emotional volatility which can lead to a loss of control, sending your character on a crash course with missteps and mistakes!

Sounds bad, right? Well, it is…for the character. But for your story, it’s great!

Let’s look at a specific amplifier: scrutiny.

Scrutiny: being observed or critically examined.

Now, imagine yourself for a moment, will you?

You’re merrily typing away on your computer, drafting your latest story. Your brain is full of ideas! The words are flowing! And then your mother-in-law appears and begins reading over your shoulder.

Or:

You’re hosting the family barbeque and your sister-in-law arrives, sits at a picnic table, and proceeds to scowl at everything in view. She examines your cutlery as if it has never seen a dishwasher, smells the potato salad before adding it to her plate, and makes a show of picking off the burned bits of her chicken.

Can you hear the lambs screaming, Clarisse?

Face it, scrutiny is not fun. Whether it’s you, me, or a character, it gets in our heads, makes us hyperaware of our flaws, and whatever task we’re working on instantly becomes harder.

Even if an observer is expected–say at a competition–a person will have to have a strong mental focus not to be thrown off their game. So, you can imagine how our character, grappling with the weight of story problems, responsibilities, and emotional struggles, might react if we added scrutiny to the mix. You can just see how it would become that one burden too much, and in their frustration, they’d lash out or do something else that would take their situation from bad to worse.

Pain, exhaustion, hunger, competition, danger, attraction…amplifiers come in all shapes and sizes, and can help with story problems when used strategically.  

Common Story Problems

NOT ENOUGH CONFLICT:

An amplifier is an added challenge to navigate that, when intense enough, will cause our characters to lose control. When they do, they act on emotion, not thought, and this has repercussions: poor decisions that lead to mistakes, choices that carry unforeseen consequences, and new complications they didn’t think about in the heat of the moment. In other words, conflict!

LOW STAKES:

When there’s not enough on the line, readers tune out. One of the best ways to raise the stakes is to make things more personal. Imagine your character poorly navigating an amplifier like danger, competition, or intoxication and making a mistake that hurts someone or puts an important goal at risk. When a character screws up and feels responsible, undoing the harm they did becomes a personal mission. Readers will tune in because 1) they can’t help but empathize over making a costly mistake and 2) they feel tension knowing the character can’t afford to fail or lose control again.

PASSIVE CHARACTERS (NO AGENCY):

Readers are drawn to characters with agency, those who steer their fate and take charge, not ones who let others solve their problems. Emotion amplifiers get passive characters to step up because they inflict urgency, motivating the character to find relief from the strain one causes.

A starving character must find food (Hunger), a character lost in the woods must find their way to safety (Physical Disorientation), and a character suffering from Sleep Deprivation must secure rest before their body gives in.

LOW TENSION:

Tension, that stretchy feeling that comes when a person is unsure what will happen next, is something we want to build into every page. Because amplifiers cause characters to be emotionally unstable, readers feel tension as they read on to see if the character can handle the strain because if they can’t, it will cost them.

HIDDEN EMOTION:

In many situations, characters hide what they feel because they don’t want to be judged, feel vulnerable, or be viewed as weak. Unfortunately, this makes it harder for readers to get close enough to know what’s going on behind their stony exterior and feel empathy for what the character is experiencing.

This is why amplifiers are great to deploy. Like a boiling kettle, adding a nice dollop of pain, pressure, exhaustion, or even arousal, and suddenly those repressed feelings bubble up and spill out, putting the very emotions they’re hiding on display!

SHOWING CHARACTER GROWTH:

How well (or poorly) a character responds to problems and stressors can say a lot about them, revealing how much growth is required to achieve their goal. Emotion amplifiers are many things, including tests. If the character handles an amplifier poorly, they face the fallout and deal with the consequences. But it also teaches them what not to do next time, so if you later hit them with the same (or similar) amplifier again and they handle it better, it is a neon sign to readers that the character is evolving.

PERFECT CHARACTERS:

Perfect characters are a turn-off because they don’t feel realistic. Readers are drawn to characters who are true to life, meaning they’ll lose their cool, have bad judgment, and screw things up at times. You can show all this through the poor handling of an emotion amplifier! Characters who don’t handle stress and pressure will feel more authentic because readers have had their own struggles in that department and know what it’s like. Seeing characters in the same situation is relatable, and makes it easier to cheer them on as they work through the complications in the aftermath.

UNCLEAR MOTIVATION:

In every scene, readers should know the character’s goal and why they are pursuing it. If you need to redirect and show a clear scene goal, amplifiers can help. Whatever it is–pain, stress, pressure, dehydration–it’s causing a form of strain, meaning your character’s goal will be to manage or free themselves from it.

HAPPY CHARACTERS IN A HAPPY LAND:

Like low-conflict situations, we also don’t want characters to be happy for too long. Time to time, your character comes out on top, ending a scene in a win. An emotion amplifier like an injury, illness, or exhaustion is a great way to give them a new situational problem to focus on.

LACK OF RELATIONSHIP FRICTION:

Stories where everyone gets along and supports one another will eventually elicit yawns from readers. People rub against one another, and it’s not always a bad thing when they do so. Sometimes it needs to happen for important realizations to take place for a character to examine boundaries, and expectations, or achieve personal growth.

An amplifier can bring forth friction because if a character mishandles the strain of it, they may lash out, question loyalty or motivations, shut people out, or do other things that will cause misunderstandings. Any damage they do to the relationship will need to be undone, giving the character a chance to see things from the perspective of the one they hurt, and to practice accountability, both of which can strengthen the relationship long-term.

PREDICTABILITY:

Some stories can become predictable if certain plot elements, character types, and other genre expectations strain a writer’s ability to be creative. Emotion Amplifiers come in all sizes and shapes, meaning choosing the right one can easily transform a premise, conflict scenario, or relationship dynamics, elevating it into something fresh. For example, wouldn’t it be great to see a pro-athlete character struggling with sensory overload when he hits it big, a love interest trying to manage her compulsions, or a pregnant police detective hunting down serial killers?

LOW READER ENGAGEMENT:

If an agent, editor, or beta reader has even mentioned that they struggled to connect with your character, chances are two things have happened. One, the character’s emotions are not accessible enough to the reader, meaning they are too well hidden or repressed, or two, there isn’t enough common ground between the reader and your character for empathy to form.

Emotion Amplifiers help with both issues, bringing emotions to the surface through volatility and a common ground experience readers can bond with characters over.

All readers know what it is like to feel internal strain and, if they give in to it, make mistakes they’ll regret. They empathize with characters having to do the hard work of fixing what they’ve broken. Should the character successfully stay in control of their emotional responses despite the strain an amplifier causes, readers rejoice with the character for mastering the moment and rising above their stress and struggle. Win-win!

If you’ve not yet dove into the wonderful world of emotion amplifiers, I hope you’ll change that. Start by reading this introductory post, checking out this list of amplifiers, and then seeing if The Emotion Amplifier Thesaurus: A Writer’s Guide to Character Stress and Volatility is the life preserver your story needs.  

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post How to Fix Big Story Problems appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

As you may have heard, we recently released The Emotion Amplifier Thesaurus: A Writer’s Guide to Character Stress and Volatility, a companion to The Emotion Thesaurus.

If you aren’t familiar with this term, let me explain. An emotion amplifier is a special state or condition that can make a character emotionally reactive. Whether it’s pain, scrutiny, pregnancy, competition, or other state, when a disruptor messes with a character’s psychological and emotional equilibrium, it’s bad for them, but good for the story. And this is but one way to use them.

Emotion Amplifiers are unbelievably versatile. In addition to making a character volatile, check out how else they can help you level up your story!

1. Amplifiers make it harder for characters to hide what they feel.

Characters are like people–they often mask what they feel to avoid judgment, vulnerability, and the perception that they are weak. But if your character is hungover, enduring high levels of scrutiny, or it’s been ten hours since they last had a cigarette (withdrawal), it becomes harder to keep their emotions in check. A slip–forgetting their filter, telling someone off–and suddenly their emotions are on full display.

2. Amplifiers are great for uncovering a character’s faults, flaws, and sensitivities.

Characters are motivated to control events around them as much as possible, which can make them seem more capable and strong than they actually are. Derailing their plans with an amplifier is a great way to show readers they don’t have it all together and can lose their emotional grip just like anyone else.

3. Amplifiers infuse scenes with tension.

When a character’s stress levels are heightened because of an amplifier like hunger, illness, or pain, the reader becomes glued to the page, wondering if the character will be able to handle the extra strain.

When a reader is unsure of what will happen next, the tension they feel causes them to read on…exactly what we want!

4. Amplifiers generate conflict.

Sometimes your character can manage the strain of an amplifier, and sometimes they can’t. If distraction, sleep deprivation, or even attraction causes your character’s attention to drift, they could fail to spot a threat or worse, taking their situation from bad to worse.

5. Amplifiers can help make a character relatable.

Most amplifiers are common enough that readers have experienced them themselves, or at least know the challenge they represent. So when a character is struggling with something like stress, pressure, or bereavement, readers relate to the character because this situation feels like common ground.

6. Amplifiers pressure characters to deal with their inner conflict.

It can be tempting to ignore personal problems when there’s a difficult decision to be made, but if characters continue to avoid the hard stuff, readers will disengage.

Deploying an amplifier at the right time can make the character’s situation untenable, forcing them to search within and find a way to change their situation for the better, even if this means a cost or sacrifice.

7. Amplifiers provide the opportunity to grow.

In a story, characters should make plenty of mistakes so they can learn from them. Letting emotions take over because of an amplifier like addiction, burnout, or confinement might mean taking a foolish risk, doing or saying something that damages their reputation, or creating big problems for themselves. Dealing with the fallout of bad decisions and emotional volatility will teach them to find a better way next time.

8. Amplifiers support your story’s structure.

Stories contain a framework of turning points and characters must move from one stage to the next for the story to progress. The problem? Fear can make them resistant to take on certain challenges, and they become resistant to leaving their comfort zone. An amplifier like danger, dehydration, arousal, or physical disorientation can force them to march into the unknown so they can secure what they need most.

9. Amplifiers give the story’s premise or conflict scenario a fresh edge.

Stories naturally contain elements and scenarios that will be similar, especially within a genre. The addition of an amplifier, perhaps one like brainwashing, an injury, mental health condition, or intoxication, will help readers see your events as unique, and give you a way to show a character’s individuality in the way that they handle the challenge.

10. Amplifiers encourage readers to connect with your characters on a deeper level.

Amplifiers are familiar to readers as these states and conditions are part of the human experience. When an amplifier brings a character’s emotions close to the surface, readers can’t help but be reminded of their own feelings and humanity. This fosters empathy and connection, and the reader becomes invested in what happens next.

Becca and I explore over 50 amplifiers in this second edition of The Emotion Amplifier Thesaurus. As a companion guide, each entry is styled very close to The Emotion Thesaurus. If you’d like a look at the list of amplifiers and a few sample entries from the book, just go here.

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post 10 Reasons Why Emotion Amplifiers Are Good for Your Story appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

Conflict is a powerful tool for storytellers, allowing us to place roadblocks, challenges, adversaries and more in a character’s way so the road to their goal is much more difficult. Deployed well, conflict creates tension and intensity for reader, capturing their attention for the length of the book.

So what does deployed well mean?

For conflict to have a strong foundation, we need to focus on three things. First, readers need to feel connected to a character for them to care when something bad happens to them. For example, if a car hits a dog-kicking, old-lady-scamming protagonist and breaks both his legs, will your audience be upset? Not at all…in fact they may actually cheer. But if the protagonist is a single mother of three who scraped and saved to go to night school and create a better life for her family, seeing such a terrible event happen to them will really rip your readers up. So, building flesh-and-blood characters readers will connect to is crucial for scoring a strong conflict hit.

The second thing conflict must do is present a character with a problem that’s not easy to resolve. A danger or threat that can be avoided if the character simply does one thing will feel like a cop-out to readers (unless you’re purposefully luring the character into a trap so it leads to spectacular, unexpected fallout).

The third component of well-written conflict is that it will be original in some way, giving readers something they’ve not seen before. And this is where some writers trip, especially if they’re working with a conflict scenario found in many stories, or it’s common within a genre. Romance readers will have experienced plenty of stories where a romantic competitor enters the scene, Fantasy readers know that at some point, an adventurer will get injured, and anyone who reads superhero stories has seen more than a few characters discovering they have unwanted powers.

The thing is, readers expect to see these conflicts, so we need to include them. But we shouldn’t copy what others have done. Instead, we should find a way to make the situations fresh…and hopefully more difficult. Here are some ideas:

Make the Outcome Uncertain

To keep readers from easily predicting the result of a conflict scenario, sow some doubt—a.k.a., don’t go easy on your protagonist. Put them at a disadvantage—or, if you’re feeling evil, give them an easy win that isn’t a true victory. Maybe a character with friends in high places gets a big promotion, only she doesn’t realize her “friends” are setting her up as a scapegoat for their criminal behavior. Winning can also trigger unforeseen consequences. If your character doesn’t pay now, make her pay later.

Withhold Something the Character Needs

When a character has everything—information, financial backing, a mentor, the support of others—it’s an easier skate to the finish line, and what’s the fun in that? Think about what your character needs most to succeed, and take it from her. If she needs medicine, put it in a glass vial that, at a critical point, will shatter. When she needs a map to navigate, let it be ruined by a dunk in the river. Knowledge, a way to communicate, a weapon…characters who are forced to act when they don’t have what they need often screw up, leading to more conflict.

Make the Stakes Personal

Every story should have high stakes, where something is at risk if the character fails. But when the stakes are personal, winning becomes more crucial because of what they could lose. Get to know your character and the people, places, and things they hold dear. Then endanger them: a child’s life, the character’s job, their reputation, or their marriage. Most characters will walk through fire to protect the people and things they cherish.

Consider a No-Win Situation

The most heart-wrenching times for your character are when they have to make a decision in which someone will pay regardless of their choice. These story moments take courage because the character must decide between two equally bad outcomes. Do they save their daughter if doing so means abandoning their son? Do they stay and risk capture, or run and risk death by exposure? No-win scenarios create obvious tension for characters but also for readers, who recognize an impossible situation when they see it and wonder what choice will be made.

Keep Your Character Moving

Did you know that if sharks stop swimming, they’ll die? This is a lesson we can apply to storytelling because when a character settles down for too long, the tension flatlines. So, keep them moving. If they find a haven, fill it with hidden dangers that compel them to leave. If a romantic relationship is becoming routine, introduce a disruptor—a secret being exposed, a hopeful ex-lover showing up, or a complication that forces a physical separation.

This goes for inner movement, too. If the character isn’t moving forward and resolving their internal conflict, create a crisis that jeopardizes everything they’ve worked for. Remind them that they need to keep evolving to get what they want, even if this means facing hard truths or examining old wounds.

Shake Up the Team

If your character is relying on others, find a way to introduce dysfunction and friction. Disagreements, misunderstandings, egos, rivalries, or a sense of entitlement can shake the foundation of a relationship, create a power struggle, and leave your character without their much-needed backup.

Tighten the Timeline

There’s nothing like a ticking clock to pile on the pressure, so think about how you can shorten a window of opportunity, move up a deadline, force the character to wait, or give them an ultimatum. Characters who rush can get sloppy and make mistakes, compounding the conflict.

Pull the Trigger

All characters carry some baggage from the past. If they’re navigating a change arc, they’ll have an unresolved wound, and chances are, they’ve buried it deep. The problem is, for them to move forward, they need to deal with whatever is holding them back. A well-placed trigger can cause that wound to resurface.

Maybe your character Tamara has been avoiding her cousin who captained the boat the day her sister drowned. But now she must work side by side with him to save their family’s business. Or your character must perform a wellness check on someone who lives in the building where her abusive parents raised her. Exposing your character to fears and painful memories can awaken them to the realization that the past is holding them prisoner.

Include a Sacrifice

A character facing a challenge that’s beyond her must make some hard choices if she wants to avoid losing everything. Maybe she must abandon one goal to put more energy into another, or give up on a passion to stand by a friend. Sacrifices are meaningful and will cause readers to care, so don’t be afraid to use them.

Turn to Your Genre

Every genre will have specific opportunities to ramp up conflict. Does your character live in a historical time when certain illnesses were prevalent, or their rights were restricted because of their race, gender, or religion? Is there a specific technology that is hampering your character’s ability to move undetected in a future world? Pull organic conflict from the very bedrock of your genre by considering the character’s reality and the challenges they might face.

Don’t Make Violence Your Go-To

As you seek ways to power up conflict, it can be tempting to use violence to hammer home a threat. Sometimes this is warranted and fits the scenario, but other times it’s used as an easy way out. Before going to this extreme, pause to see what’s best for the story. If you decide to use it, don’t make it the only tool in your bag of tricks. Writers should also think twice about using gratuitous violence to characterize, especially in situations that directly target women or children.

Need more ideas for story conflict? Check out the 225 scenarios covered in the GOLD and SILVER editions of The Conflict Thesaurus: A Writer’s Guide to Obstacles, Adversaries, and Inner Conflict.

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post How to Generate Powerful Story Conflict appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

For the better part of two months, Becca and I have been exploring pain, and how to write about it in fiction. It’s been enlightening for us, and we hope for you as well. So many ways to torture characters, who knew?

(Well, we did. And you did. Pain is sort of our bread and butter, isn’t it?)

But maybe you missed a post or two. It happens. You were on a writing retreat, or vacationing at the lake. Maybe you were hiding out in a sleeping bag in the woods, denying the arrival of fall and Pumpkin Spice Lattes.

Whatever the case may be, we’ve got you. Here are all the posts in this series.

The Three Stages of Awareness

Pain has 3 stages: Before, During, and After. For realistic and logical description, you’ll want to know what all three will look like for your character and the type of injury.

Different Types of Pain to Explore

Discomfort comes in all shapes and sizes, including physical, psychological, and spiritual pain. Mine this post for ideas on how to bring something fresh to your story by targeting a variety of soft spots.

Describing Minor Injuries

Cuts, stings, and scrapes create discomfort and can easily lead to bigger problems. You’ll find loads of descriptive detail for showing smaller injuries here, and how they can make your story more realistic.

Describing Major or Mortal Injuries

Sometimes a wound is serious, casting doubt on whether your character will survive this crisis. Fill your mental toolbox with ideas on what happens when your character is stricken with an injury with no easy fix.

Describing Invisible Injuries and Conditions

Not every injury leaves a physical mark, and when you can’t see it, you don’t know how bad it is. Invisible injuries and conditions are a great vehicle to encourage readers to worry about characters they care about.

Factors that Help or Hinder One’s Ability to Cope

We all hope we’ll cope well when injured, but certain factors make it easier–or harder–to handle pain. This list will help you steer how a character responds!

Taking an Injury from Bad to Worse

No one likes to get hurt, but when circumstances are afoot that cause that injury to worsen? Tension and conflict, baby. So, when you’re feeling evil, read this one to see how you can raise the stakes.

Everyday Ways a Character Can Get Hurt

We want to immerse readers in the character’s everyday world, so it helps to think about where dangers and threats might be lurking so we can create a credible collision with pain that comes from a believable source.

Best Practices for Writing Pain in Fiction

Finally, we round up this series with unmissable tips on how to take pain scenes from good, to great. Authenticity is key, and of course, showing and not telling. Don’t miss these final tips to help you write tense, engaging fiction!

We hope this mother lode of pain posts helps you level up your stories.

Pain is an Emotion Amplifier, and a powerful one at that, so putting in extra effort to showcase it well is worth the time.

Pain presents a challenge for your character while making them more emotionally volatile, and prone to mistakes. This means tension and conflict, drawing readers in!

Pain also helps empathy form because people know pain, and so when a character they care about is battered and bruised, or beset by trauma, readers can’t help but be reminded of their own experiences, and worry over what will happen next.

Other Compilation Posts

If you found this collection of resources helpful, you might be interested in some of our other posts that contain a mother lode of topic-related information.

How to Write about Character Occupations
How to Show (Not Tell) Character Emotions
How to Create Phenomenal First Pages
How to Write Conflict that Has Maximum Impact
How to Choose & Employ Your Character’s Talents and Skills
How to Write about a Character’s Emotional Wounds
How to Use Amplifiers to Stress Characters & Elevate Emotion

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post Want to Show Your Character’s Pain? Here’s Everything You Need to Know appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

When we put characters in dangerous or unfamiliar situations, they can get hurt, and when they do, things become harder to do. Injuries can mean reduced mobility, pain makes it difficult to think clearly, or something they must do (win a fight, escape a threat, or be independent, for example) may become all but impossible.

Injuries and pain can cause an array of problems, generating tension and conflict. Readers also tend to become more invested when something happens to a character, either because they care and want them to be okay, or readers feel a rush of schadenfreude because a nasty character is finally getting what they deserve.

A writer’s mindset is all about How can I make things more difficult for this character? so it can be tempting to pile on the injuries and pain, but this isn’t always a good strategy. Too many ouchies and a protagonist won’t be able to continue their quest, meaning they can’t logically achieve an important goal (unless the author manufactures a ‘Hail Mary rescue’ that will feel contrived). Or, if injuries are piling up like a serial killer’s body count, readers might get angry and feel the author is going too far. So we really want to find the sweet spot of making things hard, not impossible for the character.

When you need to make life challenging, rather than adding new injuries, a better option may be to add a complication.

In the right circumstances, even a small injury can cause big problems. Cuts get infected. Bites may be poisonous. A blister can make it hard to run fast enough to escape. Complications are not only realistic, they raise the stakes and make readers worry, generating tension.

How to take an injury from bad to worse

Being unable to treat the injury. Some problems require medical intervention, but that doesn’t mean your character can access help. They might be on a remote hiking trail, in the middle of a farmer’s field, or simply unable to go to the hospital because if they do, it will alert the authorities. When a character can’t get the help they need, this not only ramps up the pain, it ramps up the consequences.

An underlying condition. Does your character have a clotting disorder that means a cut on their thigh won’t close? Are they being treated for an illness that leaves them fatigued? Will that concussion re-awaken difficult side effects caused by a previous traumatic brain injury? When you want to make an injury more complicated and particularly dangerous for a character, think about what underlying conditions or illnesses they may have that will make it harder to function.

Infection. Your story doesn’t need to be in the middle of a Zombie Apocalypse to cause characters to worry about viruses. Wounds exposed to the wrong conditions can cause fever or delirium, compromising your character’s ability to function and make rational decisions. Untreated, infection can lead to blood poisoning, gangrene, or even flesh-eating disease. Yikes.

Reduced mobility. If your character breaks a bone or injures their back, they may be unable to move on their own. This can put a strain on others who must step in to help, causing delays or forcing them to expend energy they need for other things. If your character is on their own, say with a broken leg at the bottom of an embankment, an inability to move much will become a crisis if they cannot source food, water, or find help. Sitting or laying prone too long can also increase blood flow related issues, making injuries worse and healing slower.

Muscle tears or nerve damage. A bike accident, overdoing it at the gym, or a pell-mell flight from a pack of wild dogs can mean more than bruises. A muscle tear or nerve damage can affect mobility and dexterity, and generate high levels of pain. These injuries take time to heal, and sometimes require special treatments or even surgery. So think carefully about how this type of complication might play out in the story. Your character might be damaged in a way that their recovery may not fit the timeline for conflict resolution.

Scar tissue. Everyone has a few scars, but what if your character’s reduces function in some way, or even disfigures them? What will this mean as far as their dexterity and range of movement, or how other people view them? Will it close doors because they’ve lost their edge as far as a skill goes, or reveal a lack of depth in their relationships because people can’t accept this change?

Extreme swelling. Injuries cause tissue to swell, and if this happens to a body part that is confined somehow (a swollen foot stuck in a boot, or a wedding ring cutting off circulation due to a broken finger), it can cause intense pain and the need for intervention to avoid losing the limb.

Improper healing. Sometimes a character can’t get help when they need it, and the injury starts to heal in a way that is less than ideal. Bones may not be fully aligned as they knit together, causing a limp or malformation. A deep cut that can’t be stitched in time can lead to an ugly scar, loss of sensation, and reduced function.

Fears or phobias being triggered. Characters who have suffered past trauma may have their deepest fears awakened when an injury occurs, especially if they are reminded of that painful experience. Or a phobia of doctors, hospitals, dying, or another fear can make them resistant to being treated.

Addictions. A character in recovery will not want to risk medication that could trigger a relapse. Instead, they may have to bear extreme levels of pain to stay drug free, or have no choice but to have drugs in their system so a surgery can be performed, or an infection is stopped before it can spread.

Making the injury worse. When there’s danger present or a character is faced with a ticking clock, they can’t take it easy. A strain the character must ignore to escape a threat can become worse if it isn’t treated. Over time, increased fatigue or reduced strength will make a character unstable and more prone to additional injuries, too.

Ideally, injuries should push characters to think of creative solutions to their problems.

When they do, it makes for great reading. Too, characters who don’t give up (even though they may want to) are the ones readers admire most!

Other Posts in This Pain Series:

The Three Stages of Awareness
Different Types to Explore
Describing Minor Injuries
Describing Major and Mortal Injuries
Invisible Injuries and Conditions
Factors that Help or Hinder the Ability to Cope
Everyday Ways a Character Could Be Hurt
Best Practices for Great Fiction

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post Writing About Pain: Taking an Injury from Bad to Worse appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

We’re always looking for ways to make sure our characters struggle as they navigate new situations, uncertain environments, dangers and threats. Let’s dive into what minor injuries you might want to inflict that will also bring a dose of authenticity to your fiction.

Common Minor Injuries
& How to Describe Them

Superficial cuts and scrapes. These are surface wounds affecting the skin, causing redness, scratches, or shallow wounds. There is a flash of pain, and then blood blooms. You can focus on the redness of the scratches, any dirt or grit caught in the injury, and the searing pain a character will feel when something touches the injured site: a sleeve, branches that slap and scrape as your character navigates a narrow wooded trail, bumping against someone, or even the pain-then-relief sensation when a breeze hits the area.

Bruises. Collisions with hard surfaces or pressure injuries can lead to bruises. Maybe your character was rushing, missed a danger, was careless, or the injury happened through violence. Bruises may throb or ache, especially when the damaged muscle moves. Skin will discolor, turning reddish on a character with lighter skin, or appearing purple, brown, or even black on any with darker skin. Over time, the bruises may turn brown, yellow or even green as they heal before fading completely. With bruising, show a character’s discomfort. They may find it hard to sit or lie comfortably, and wince when the injured muscles move.

Burns and blisters. Exposure to heat or friction can result in burns and blisters, leaving the area tender to the touch. This can make everyday tasks uncomfortable, like having to walk with a blister rubbing the back of a shoe, or having to handle items with a fresh burn on one’s fingers. Blisters appear raised, containing fluid, and burns may also present as blisters or raw skin where several outer layers are removed. Small burns and blisters are easy to forget about until they are bumped or grazed, and then the pain starts anew. If a character has sunburn, their skin will be hot to the touch, red, and will feel stretched tight. The pain can be described as an uncomfortable tingling or radiating heat sensation.

Sprains and strains. Rapid or repetitive movements, twisting, overextending, and otherwise pushing ligaments or muscles too far can lead to stretching or tears that cause pain and limit a character’s range of movement. To describe this, think about the tenderness and painful twinges you feel at these types of injuries, and how your character will have to compensate by limping, hunching over, and moving gingerly. Each bump or unintentional twist can bring about deep pain, so use the character’s face as a map: wincing, drawing their eyebrows low, a pinched mouth. They may suck in a sharp breath through their teeth, or swear under their breath. To find relief, a character may observe the RICE method (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation), and use crutches to get around.

Minor fractures or breaks. Most bone breaks are not minor, but a broken toe or finger is usually something you wrap and wait for it to heal. A bone fracture is painful, but isn’t a full break, so healing comes much quicker. In both cases, the character will experience a sharp pain and may ‘feel’ the snap or crack. Anxiety and dread often follows these types of injuries because the character knows whatever they’ve done will need time to heal. These injuries are great when you want to slow your character down, add complication to their life, and limit them in what they can do. When you’re showing this type of injury, think about how your character will overcompensate (limping, shifting their weight, using their ‘good’ hand, etc.) to spare the injured bone. Show their discomfort through pinched facial expressions, a strained voice, a short tempter, or other ‘tells’ that line up with their personality.

Dislocations. When two bones pull away from their natural meeting point, the pain can be excruciating. An unnatural bulge forms where the bone is, causing swelling, intense pain, numbness and tingling. Your character may also feel a rush of fear when their limb suddenly stops working.

In movies, characters often ram the dislocated bone against something to reset it, but unless they’re skilled and experienced, this is dangerous, and causes extreme pain and further injury. So before you decide to have your character do this, ask yourself if they know how or not, or if others are able to assist.

Foreign objects. Splinters, thorns, fishhooks, and other items that pierce the skin can add a dash of authenticity and make your character more irritable, because these everyday annoyances do happen.

Nosebleeds. Maybe someone popped your character in the nose, or they have allergies, the air is dry, or it happens due to another condition or injury. Whatever caused it, nosebleeds are uncomfortable, messy, and can make the character feel embarrassed as they suddenly become the center of attention. To stop the flow, they may pinch the bridge of their nose and tip their head back, but as blood runs down their throat, they may gag in discomfort.

Contact with poison, toxins, or irritants. Some characters have allergies or sensitivities to substances, and coming in contact with these causes an adverse reaction. They may swell up, develop a rash, break out in hives, become feverish, and have trouble swallowing or breathing. This minor situation can escalate into something more dire if they don’t get help.

To describe this injury, focus on the reaction to the toxin as it contacts with the character’s skin. Does it swell up, redden in patches, or feel hot to the touch? If the irritant is something they breathe in, it can cause them to cough, spit, bend over, and wheeze. They may grow anxious if it becomes harder to see or breathe.

Bites and stings. We’ve all gotten too close to a wasp’s nest or been a victim of mosquito bites. The character will feel a small nip of pain at the point of contact, and then the area can swell, itch, and redden. If the character has a sensitivity to the venom or a bite becomes infected, the pain will grow, and the rash will spread.

Minor head or eye injuries. When a character’s head area is injured, they need to take care in case the wound is worse than it seems. Maybe your character bumped their head on a low ceiling beam, had a spark or projectile fly into their eye, became the victim of bear spray, or slipped on ice and hit their head. These injuries can leave them with a throbbing headache, swollen eyelids, blurry vision, and a good dose of panic or worry.

Think Outside the Box When It Comes to Injuries

As you can see, the ways you can injure characters is only limited by your imagination, so get creative! What might be a fresh way to injure them that makes sense for the action? How can the setting and its inherent dangers be used?

Also, consider your character’s emotional state. Are they rushing to meet a deadline, or feeling panicked because they are out of their depth? When they become injured, do they blame themselves, or feel overwhelmed by their circumstances?

Know Your Why

Hurting characters ‘just because’ will lead to flat writing, so have a reason for causing them strife. How will an injury further the story or reveal who they are to readers? Will this new challenge hobble them and force them to think strategically? Are you trying to show their humanity through a response to pain or teach them a lesson for being rash? Know your why so injuries never feel random or contrived.

Also, don’t forget to show the before-during-after awareness chain so your character’s responses are realistic and believable.

Other Posts in This Pain Series:

The Three Stages of Awareness
Different Types to Explore
Describing Major and Mortal Injuries
Invisible Injuries and Conditions
Factors that Help or Hinder the Ability to Cope
Taking an Injury from Bad to Worse
Everyday Ways a Character Could Be Hurt
Best Practices for Great Fiction

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post Writing About Pain: Describing Minor Injuries appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

If there’s one thing writers like to do, it’s to make characters suffer. We are all about bringing forth pain and crises, whether it be emotional, physical, spiritual, or existential. Is it because we’re a little messed up and we enjoy torturing characters? Or do we create difficult scenarios in our stories to illustrate the fact that life is painful sometimes?

Probably both.

No matter what our reasons for holding our character’s figurative (and possibly literal) feet to the fire, we need to do a bang up job of describing it. So join us for a deep dive on all things painful, starting with…

Pain & Your Characters: The Three Stages of Awareness

Before: Anticipating Pain

Sometimes a character won’t see a threat coming, but if they do, we gain a terrific opportunity to draw readers into the moment and heighten their emotions alongside the character’s. The anticipation of pain is something we all know, and so it’s an effective way to generate empathy for characters experiencing it.

When something bad is about to happen, a character may only have a heartbeat or two to steel themselves, tensing their muscles clamping their teeth tight, flinching and squeezing their eyes shut. To try and protect themselves further, they might also try to make themselves small, a full body cringe. Or it could be a natural reaction to duck, jerk back, pull away, or attempt to flee. These are all their instinctual fight-or-flight responses kicking in, doing whatever is necessary to protect them (or those they love) in the few seconds they have.

If the threat is farther out, the character’s brain has more time to churn through what might happen. Their knowledge and experiences will conjure up mental flashes of what will happen and the likely wounds and injuries which could occur. Memories may also assault them, reminding them of painful things that have happened to them, and the inescapable weight of dread hits them.

To spur them into action, their adrenaline surges, prompting them to respond in some way – fight, or flee. But if there’s nothing they can do, they may experience a skin crawling sensation in expectation of the painful sensations to come.

Pain isn’t always physical, of course. If they see something coming that they know will hurt them emotionally, your character could become depressed, and at a loss over what to do. Or even though they know what’s coming can’t be avoided, they may stay in bed, refuse to go out, avoid people, lie, or do something else that lines up with a flight response. They could also become anxious, obsess about what’s going to happen, and force a confrontation before they’re fully prepared to deal with it (a fight response).

The source of pain could be anything – a secret about to be uncovered, a marriage nearing the point of ending, or their own child who is dying in the hospital. While we often think about how to cause characters physical pain, mental and emotional pain are just as debilitating.

TIP: Whatever type of pain your character is experiencing, think about their personality, coping methods, and personal fears. This will help you determine how they will respond to threats that bring pain.

During: Physiological and Psychological Processes

When your character feels discomfort, certain things happen. If there’s a physical component, pain receptors pick up on the type of sensory input: heat, friction, tension, cold, pressure, etc. and sends signals to the brain about the area affected, the type of pain, and intensity level. Your character’s instinctual response will be to flee pain, so unless there’s a compelling reason why they must not, you can show your character trying to pull away and escape whatever is hurting them. This is especially the case when they see indicators of damage (a gash, a broken bone, blood, etc.), because the gravity of what’s happening to them hits home.

Your character’s emotional state will also influence how much pain they feel. If the source of it is tied to a fear, emotionally wounding experience, or their anxiety is triggered, the discomfort they feel will be intensified. Pain levels can become so excruciating that a character passes out or enters a state of shock. This is where the body systems slow and they become distanced from their agony.

Another way to use emotion in these situations is to consider feelings that might help them cope with the pain better: anger, rage, determination, etc. They can also use coping mechanisms to handle discomfort, turning to meditation, breathing exercises, self-distraction, talk therapy, etc. to work through it. Some characters might try to numb it with medications, drugs, or alcohol, but if they are attempting to manage pain through mind over matter, it will only work to a certain point. If the pain is extreme, they will no longer be able to handle it, and their responses will become extreme — screaming, writhing, or even passing out.

Characters will also experience a stress reaction to pain, meaning their heart rate and blood pressure can rise, their body becomes increasingly tense, their breathing may change and tears may form.

TIP: Using POV visceral sensations to show what they’re experiencing is a great way to communicate the strain they’re under.

After: Recovery and Aftereffects

After an injury or event that causes pain, your character may have a hard time with mobility, balance, and cognitive processing, so keep this in mind when you show readers what happens next. Your character likely will try and protect the injury, meaning they may hunch over as they walk, cradle a broken arm, limp, or do everything with one hand to save more injury to the other. They might have a loss of energy or motor control, have a delayed reaction time, and seek to distance themselves from others so they can process what happened and heal in private. So think about what your character will be doing in the aftermath of a bodily injury.

Everyone copes with pain differently, especially pain that scores an emotional hit. Time will be needed to fully process what happened, and if the emotional hurt is far too painful to examine, characters try to bury it rather than work through it in a healthy way, leading to personality and behavioral shifts that change how they interact with the world and those in it. Unresolved emotional wounds are sources of ongoing pain, so a bit of research here on what this looks like for the type of wound is key.

If your character suffered a physical injury or illness, the healing process can include different types of pain – tenderness, strain, headaches, itchiness, and the like. They may need to rest or sleep more, and if this is impossible because the danger in ongoing, their energy may drain further. It could slow their healing, and open them to infections and more injuries.

After an injury heals, your character may have scars, less range of movement, or suffer debilitating migraines or other internal reactions. Depending on what they experienced, they may also carry new fears, anxieties, a decreased ability to take risks, and even PTSD or other conditions that they will carry with them. Each new encounter with pain will make your character more wary and watchful for any circumstances where it might reoccur, so remember that as they move forward in the story.

Realistic Fiction Sometimes Means Ignoring Hollywood

Because movies only have so much time to show everything they need to, the stages of pain awareness are sometimes skimmed over. Often there’s a split-second awareness of danger and then the camera focuses on the character being injured, whether it’s a gun shot wound to the thigh or a six-pack of punches to the gut. They falter briefly, then rally to win. But when we see them again after the climax, they are usually not as in bad shape as they should be, or are miraculously fine (I’m looking at you, Jack Ryan, and your ability to be perky and ready to go after several rounds of boiling water-and-salt torture!).

Movies and TV can sometimes get away with this, but books, not so much. Readers want to share the character’s experience, so this means showing things that are true-to-life. You don’t have to go overboard and show every detail, but make sure to convey enough of the before-during-after chain that readers feel the character is responding realistically to pain and injury.

Need more ideas on how to show pain? You’ll find this entry in our Emotion Amplifier Thesaurus.

Other Posts in This Pain Series:

Different Types to Explore
Describing Minor Injuries
Describing Major and Mortal Injuries
Invisible Injuries and Conditions
Factors that Help or Hinder the Ability to Cope
Taking an Injury from Bad to Worse
Everyday Ways a Character Could Be Hurt
Best Practices for Great Fiction

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post Writing About Pain: Three Stages of Awareness appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

We’ve all heard the writing advice that our stories must hook readers from the start, and that pacing our scenes so readers stick around is equally important. It’s all too easy to take that advice and assume we must infuse our scenes with all the makings of a blockbuster movie. Speed, chases, weapons, explosions, scary monsters, you name it. But what this advice fails to remember is that readers largely come to story for character. Specifically, they come to your story for your character, who they want to care for, worry about, and subsequently cheer for in those high-action scenes. If we don’t keep that truth at the heart of our scenes, all the trimmings of an action-packed story won’t matter. Let’s talk about four reasons readers unbuckle their seatbelts and climb out of that fast-moving vehicle of your story so we can understand how to keep them until your ride has come to a complete stop.

It’s Too Soon for High Action

Just about every set of “rules” for writing a riveting set of first pages leads you to believe you have to jump right into action. This is partially right and partially wrong. Inserting readers immediately into action is powerful, but inserting them into high-action too soon can fall flat. Car chases, battles, being pursued by a nefarious actor, or even meeting the protagonist participating in an intense sport don’t yield the reader’s interest in the way we expect. Why? Because the reader hasn’t had time to care about your character, much less their external circumstances. They don’t understand what’s at stake if your character can’t catch the bad guy, or if that zombie gets hold of them, or if they fail to make that winning touchdown.

The outcome of a physical-stakes-based scene scarcely matters without the underpinnings of care for the characters who are involved in it. We are banking on the notion that readers are going to be intrigued enough to know how the scene turns out. But we’ve failed to remember why readers come to story: the character’s journey.

Yes, we want to start our stories as early as possible with scene work. Nothing invites the reader into your book as a co-creator quite like loaded dialogue and interesting, revealing movement. These craft elements let the reader start making a movie in their minds. The more we can sink readers into what’s occurring in the sensory world of our characters, the better. But beware the urge to go for the big blockbuster opening scene as your first scene since the reader hasn’t had time to get their bearings and to care about the characters involved in its outcome.

The Scene Is Making Us Dizzy

A common pitfall of writing action scenes is that we, the writer, tend to see what every character is doing, moment by dull moment, as the scene plays out in our minds. But writing is all about handcrafting and hand-carving these scenes to reflect your protagonist’s experience (or only the most crucial players) most of all. If we’re asking the reader to notice every movement by every character, it can be dizzying. They’re trying to keep every character’s location and most recent movement, all while new character’s movements and locations are coming at them. Worse, readers start to lose track of who represents them in the scene, and what deep internal value is at stake for the primary player(s). It starts to feel like reading a bunch of stage direction instead of an edge-of-our-seats event.

Consider keeping the narrative “camera” as close to your protagonist as much as you possibly can. Everything happening should be filtered through them because they should have the most on the line for internal stakes in that scene. Anything you include that doesn’t stick close to the protagonist should only be included because it impacts the protagonist in a direct, powerful way (e.g., Their loved one is on the brink of disaster across the room and it’s presenting some sort of choice to your protagonist in that very moment.). If you do feel you have to include a few players’ experiences in the midst of one action scene, consider the way writers of shows like Game of Thrones direct their scenes. Oftentimes, the camera is with one player for a sustained period, and what we’re shown is almost like its own “Act.” Then, we rotate to another player for a sustained period and they have their own “Act.” As we rotate back to any given player, their story within the scene is oftentimes presented like its own 3-Act structure, but we aren’t dizzy because we’ve been in any given act for any given character for longer periods.

The Details Have Become the Haystack, And We Can’t Find the Needle

Even if you do stick close to your protagonist, resist the urge to stage direct their movements or what’s being done near them. Sometimes, we see every movement our character makes and we feel compelled to include it so the reader sees it, too. But as we overly burden the narrative with orchestrated movements, a problem emerges: Readers find it hard to pin down what matters most in the haystack of detail.

With my editing clients, I love to use an example from the film It’s a Wonderful Life. Director Frank Capra zooms in on George Bailey stashing his daughter’s flower petals into his pocket, and in drawing our attention to it, we hold onto that moment. Capra’s choice to zoom in guides us with confidence and certainty. The payoff is that George later uses those petals as a way of verifying he’s been given a second chance at life. How might you apply this in your action scenes? If you’ve given readers too much detail, it’s hard for them to judge what matters most. And when they lose their sense of what’s important to notice, they oftentimes start to skim because they can’t possibly hold onto all the details.

We Already Know the Outcome

As much as we want to think high-action scenes inherently pull their weight, the truth is that oftentimes, they don’t. We tell ourselves, what can be bigger than whether the character lives or dies? But readers know we’re not likely to kill off the characters that matter—especially if that character is your protagonist. Whenever we hinge everything on the character reaching safety or staying alive or coming out of a scene unscathed, readers experience the dreaded urge to skim. They know the outcome before they’ve read, so all that physical movement in the scene scarcely matters. It’s just stalling the story until the next scene. What really matters is why your character needs to win that scene in tangible, goal-driven terms.

Ensure that each fight/battle/high-action scene your character goes through has something at stake that’s deeper and more meaningful than their physical safety. What does losing a particular battle or not coming out on top in an action scene cost them? Why must they win beyond retaining their physical safety? What does that scene’s outcome represent that then allows the character to advance the next scene toward a larger goal?

What are some other features of high-action scenes that tend to drive you away as a reader? Are their particular techniques you use in your writing to avoid the pitfalls of too much attention on the action itself? Chime in!

MARISSA GRAFF - Resident Writing Coach

Marissa has been a freelance editor and reader for literary agent Sarah Davies at Greenhouse Literary Agency for over seven years. In conjunction with Angelella Editorial, she offers developmental editing, author coaching, and more. Marissa feels if she’s done her job well, a client should probably never need her help again because she’s given them a crash-course MFA via deep editorial support and/or coaching. Find out more about our RWC team here and connect with Marissa below.

The post Four Reasons Your Action-Based Scene is Failing (And How to Avoid It) appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.

I’ll be honest – life’s been hectic. Both my boys had weddings this October (so awesome!), but then a house move and my husband’s major surgery followed (he’s recovering well, thank goodness!). Needless to say, my mental tank is pretty low, so we made the call to skip Advent this year.

But are we skipping the gift-giving? Heck, no!

If you’re interested in how to hack a reader’s brain using psychology and would like to know how a show-don’t-tell mindset steers you to opportunities to do more with your description, then this free webinar is for you!

Unfortunately because of some technical difficulties, it’s just me yammering away, but Becca’s there in spirit. We hope you find this dip into our process helpful, and that you walk away with ideas on how our thesauruses can help you write stronger characters and scenes. So, have a watch, and enjoy:

Psst! This is a limited time webinar, so make sure to view the recording before January 8th. Happy holidays!

ANGELA ACKERMAN

Angela is a writing coach, international speaker, and bestselling author who loves to travel, teach, empower writers, and pay-it-forward. She also is a founder of One Stop For Writers, a portal to powerful, innovative tools to help writers elevate their storytelling.

The post A Gift for You: Secrets to Engaging Readers (Webinar Recording) appeared first on WRITERS HELPING WRITERS®.