“Your characters think, but they do not feel.” Pondering emotional resonance in writing.

The Writing Front

Years ago as a reward for finishing my first semester of graduate school, I took a writing course at the University of Missouri-Kansas City during the summer. It was a notable course because it was called the Mark Twain Writer’s Symposium and lots of professionals would be there, etc, etc, etc.

I did the assigned work, hacked out a portfolio and had a brief appointment with one of the instructors responsible for prose, whose name will not be noted.

All I got was this glib line which made no sense to me.

“You’re characters think, but they do not feel.”

No elaboration, no examples, no, “Here is what you could try to fix it.” No nothing.

It took me a few years to figure out exactly what the writer meant once I finished grad school. Stories have to generate an emotional resonance within the Reader in order to draw them into the world you’ve created. You have to make the Reader “care” about the character, either care about their success or root for their failure.

Tearing Down Tuesday and The Limb Knitter both seem to do this, they hit the mark as it were. They generate emotional resonance, to the point of being “emotionally manipulative” according to one reviewer. To my eyes, the stories feel as if they are in tune, they are telling the truth, doing what they are supposed to be doing.

They weren’t always this way. Both projects are recycles which means there are two project binders per story encompassing upwards of twelve drafts. If you look at the effort and time it took to create both stories, you are looking at two years.

Why so long? Well, that is something I’ve been pondering. During the Uniguard Era there should have been, even without a laptop at work, a story a month. I had time on my hands, lots of it and I did spend a lot of time working on projects. The project binder activity logs indicate as much. The talent is there or I wouldn’t have done as well as I have with just two stories so far. The effort is there or the projects never would have been completed.

Yet for each published story, there are three others which have something wrong with them. I can tell something is wrong the moment I start to read them. My eyes glaze over, skittering over the page. My interest wanes and I react to the projects in much the same way I react to so much of what does get published in the short fiction field these days. This isn’t, however, an entry about what I think is wrong with the stuff that makes print. I’ve already discussed that.

What is wrong with my work? Why are the stories coming out flat? Why do they continue to sound like graduate papers?

I think I have struck upon what might be the issue.

One ongoing mental health problem I have is something I’ll call emotional numbness. Sometimes I do not feel anything at all. Nothing. I know the emotion is there inside of me, locked away, hidden in ember perhaps. But I can’t tap it, reach it, access it, use it or feel it. During the Uniguard Era I used to write while feeling this way and what I have noticed is that the only thing I can write effectively in this state are action and combat scenes.

For those that haven’t noticed, action and combat scenes do not sell in most short fiction venues these days. This isn’t an entry about that problem either.

I suspect the result is that when I am writing a scene which needs emotional resonance, I end up exaggerating the character responses. There is melodrama when perhaps there should be none. Of course, this is a working theory. Sometimes I think the emotional responses of most characters in recent fiction is nearly as numb generated as my own. I suppose that when I am in this state, it is akin to trying to compose or practice music with earmuffs on. Or trying to create artwork when your vision is impaired (Monet I am not).

I think this problem is why those other stories, which are good enough to get personal rejects, are not making the grade.

The big question now is what to do about it. I do not think meds are the answer. Previous experience with medication leads me to believe it would be a cure that is worse than the disease. Counseling at the VA Medical Center is worse than pointless given my level of functionality.

Besides, I do not know if there is a way to dealing this mental health issue in the first place. I do know that it is probably impairing my writing.

Which means I have to find a way to cope with it.

Respects,
Steven Francis Murphy
Author of The Limb Knitter and Tearing Down Tuesday
North Kansas City, Missouri

Looking over a story of mine.

The Writing Front: Healing Hands of the Killer

A fairly light first day. I sat down with the old 2006 manuscript and read over it. The first thing I noticed was that it was off, off key, out of tune, something.

I’ve got a working theory on what the problem might be. Trinity and I have been talking about it but I want to wait until I’ve had some time to ponder it some more.

So what I did was mark the components I want to save/keep and mark other components for removal. The primrary conflict driver will stay in place but I’ll change the nature of it.

As I said, an easy first day. More work tomorrow.

Respects,
Steven Francis Murphy
Author of The Limb Knitter and Tearing Down Tuesday
North Kansas City, Missouri