Writers in the Storm

by Susan Watts

In my last few Writers in the Storm articles, I’ve shared several discoveries that completely changed the way I revise emotional scenes. First, I realized I was relying too much on visceral reactions. Then I over-corrected by leaning too heavily on interiority. After that came another discovery: readers don’t just want to witness emotion, they want to experience emotional movement. Most recently, I learned that what a character notices often reveals more than an additional paragraph explaining how they feel.

I thought I had finally found the balance.

Then I started another revision pass on my current work in process.

This time, I was simply trying to tighten scenes that felt slower than they should. Like many writers, my first instinct was to trim words. Surely shorter scenes would create better pacing.

Sometimes that helped.

Most of the time, it didn’t.

I eventually discovered that I had developed a habit many writers fall into when trying to deepen character emotion: I showed the emotion through a visceral reaction, reinforced it with body language, explained it through interiority, and sometimes confirmed it again through dialogue.

Instead of making the emotional scene stronger, I was often weakening it through repetition.

When Visceral Reactions, Body Language, and Interiority Say the Same Thing

In one of my scenes, the character’s stomach tightened. Then her hands shook as she rubbed the back of her neck and looked away. Then she thought: This was a terrible idea. I shouldn’t have come here. What if everything went wrong?

The visceral reaction, body language, and interiority are essentially delivering the same message: she’s afraid. Rather than deepening the emotion, I was translating the same emotion into three different languages.

Emotional repetition happens when visceral reactions, body language, interiority, dialogue, or narration communicate information the reader already understands instead of revealing something new about the character.

This doesn't mean an emotional moment should use only one technique. Different methods can work beautifully together. The problem begins when they are all doing the same job.

I started thinking about the difference as emotional repetition versus emotional layering. Emotional repetition tells readers the same thing through different techniques. Emotional layering uses those techniques to reveal varied aspects of the character's experience.

This is different from the emotional movement I discussed in an earlier article. Emotional movement is about how a character's emotional state changes across a scene. Emotional layering is about the different emotions and meanings that can exist within a single moment.

Movement gives the scene direction. Layering gives the moment depth.

So, I tried approaching the scene differently:

Her stomach tightened. Before he could notice her hands shaking, she shoved them into her pockets. She’d promised him she could handle this. She wasn’t about to prove him right.

Now each element reveals something new. The visceral reaction gives us fear. The body language shows concealment. The interiority takes us deeper, showing us her pride and her fear of being proven wrong.

I found the same problem in several scenes between Sam (short for Samantha) and Brad, the main characters in my current manuscript. Their relationship carries a lot of unresolved tension, which made it tempting for me to make absolutely certain readers understood what Sam was feeling.

Imagine Brad questioning whether Sam is ready to handle something dangerous:

Sam’s chest tightened. She crossed her arms and looked away. Why did Brad always have to question her? Anger flared through her. “I said I can handle it.”

There’s plenty of emotion on the page, but almost every signal points in the same direction. Sam is angry and defensive. And just in case readers missed it, I actually tell them anger flared through her.

But Sam’s feelings toward Brad are rarely that simple. Beneath the anger is something much more interesting: Brad’s doubt matters because Sam desperately wants to prove she can handle things, and his doubt touches her own fear that she isn’t as capable as she wants to believe.

So instead of adding more evidence of anger, I can let the different elements expose those layers:

Sam crossed her arms before Brad could see her hands shake. “I said I can handle it.”

His expression didn’t change. Somehow that was worse. He’d looked at her that way after the dragon too, as if he were waiting for her to break again.

Emotional Revelations of Body Language

Now, the body language isn't simply telling us Sam is angry. She's hiding vulnerability. Her dialogue reveals her defensiveness and need for control. And what she notices about Brad exposes the deeper wound beneath both: His expression may not actually mean he's waiting for her to break. That's what Sam notices, because she's afraid he sees the weakness she's desperately trying not to see in herself.

That was the distinction I had been missing. The question wasn’t whether I should use a visceral reaction, body language, or interiority. It was whether each one gave the reader something the others hadn’t already provided.

That led to the question I now return to whenever I revise an emotional scene:

What new information does this give the reader?

Why Deep POV Can Lead to Emotional Repetition

This kind of repetition can be easy to miss in deep POV because we're constantly looking for ways to keep readers inside the character's experience. The temptation is to add another thought, another physical reaction, or another piece of body language. But deep POV isn't created by giving readers more evidence of emotion. It's created by giving them meaningful access to the character's experience.

When each layer contributes something different, the scene unfolds. Readers move beyond simply understanding what the character feels. They begin to understand why the emotion matters and how it influences the next decision.

Trusting the Reader Creates Stronger Emotional Scenes

This discovery reminded me of something I learned years ago in martial arts.

Beginners often believe that throwing the same technique harder or faster makes it more effective. One of the lessons I learned along the way is the value of economy of movement. Power rarely comes from adding more motion. It stems from eliminating every unnecessary movement until only the essential action remains.

I realized I needed the same economy in my emotional scenes. Tightening an emotional scene doesn't necessarily mean making it shorter. It means removing repetition so the details that remain carry more weight.

The goal isn’t to use fewer emotional tools, but to make each one earn its place.

If a character’s hand hesitates over a doorknob before knocking, readers already sense her uncertainty. If the next paragraph explains that the character is nervous, and the paragraph after that describes a racing heartbeat, we may simply be confirming something the readers already understand.

And it’s only delaying the story.

How Do You Know If You're Over-explaining Character Emotion?

I've started looking for places where I can underline several consecutive sentences and write the same emotion beside each one.

Fear, Fear, Fear.

Or

Anger, Anger, Anger.

When I can do that, I know it's time to look more closely. Which detail carries the most weight? Do the others deepen the moment, or are they simply confirming what readers already know?

Why Cutting Emotional Repetition Can Make a Scene Stronger

As I continued revising, something unexpected happened. I wasn't removing emotion from these scenes. Many times, they felt more emotional after I cut the repeated explanations.

That surprised me. I'd assumed more emotional detail created a deeper emotional impact. Instead, the details I'd removed had been competing with the one that mattered most.  This also helped increase the pacing rather than the repetition slowing it down.

Give readers enough evidence to experience the emotion, then use the next sentence to take them somewhere new.

That's what trusting the reader finally came to mean for me.

A Question for You

What’s one scene in your manuscript where removing an explanation actually made the emotion stronger?

* * * * * *

About Susan

Under the pen name Michelle Allums, Susan Watts has authored a young adult urban fantasy titled, The Jade Amulet and is currently writing the sequel. Her short stories are also included in the anthologies Christmas Roses and Forever and Always.

Susan has dedicated over four decades to training in multiple martial arts styles and holds the impressive title of a five-time US Karate Alliance world black belt fighting grand champion. Through her karate school, she is able to impart martial arts and life skills. Susan also incorporates her martial arts knowledge into her writing.

An avid triathlete, she keeps in shape by running, biking, and swimming. She lives in the country with her husband, where they raise animals and enjoy being outdoors. Susan also has three grown children and numerous grandchildren. In addition, she is a CPA and VP of finance for a company in her hometown. 

Top
Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay

by Jenny Hansen

Several years ago, I wrote about finding your inner Creative Badass. I still fully believe in her, but…oh man, is she tired. She’d like a spa day and a nap, and maybe even a pet plushie.

For all of you who don’t want to click on that old post, here’s the “channel that inner badass” mantra we closed it with:

You want to be a writer.
It’s all you’ve EVER wanted to be.

It’s what you spend all this time on,
training and practicing your craft.

Get off your a$$ and write your page
and QUIT CRYING ABOUT IT.

I know, I know. It was a tough love mantra…which might be why—

My Creative Badass is kinda tired and cranky.

Because somewhere along the way, creativity acquired a to-do list that resembles the KPI’s (Key Performance Indicators) on a corporate performance review.

How wrong is that?

I wrote that original post during the pandemic lock-downs. I had a lot to do during that time, including tending to my then 4^th grader, but my writing life was still bubble-wrapped in joy.

And then…somewhere along the way, writing inherited quite a few additional items.

We’re supposed to:

• Write more.
• Publish more.
• Build our platforms.
• Grow our audiences.
• Learn all the cool tools.
• Understand the algorithms.
• Relearn the next iteration of software.
• Post consistently.
• Improve our craft.

And (naturally!) protect our precious creative time.

Ain’t nobody got time for all that!

And we writers wonder why we’re tired? Why sometimes our inner Creative Badasses want to crawl under the desk and refuse to come out...Why our muse deserts us, or why we get writer’s block.

I know a few writers who have thrown in the towel over the last few years, because those never-ending to-do lists just sucked the joy out of their writing life.

Creativity wasn’t always this much work

Remember way back when…when you wrote because you had a story you couldn’t stop thinking about?

When you scribbled scenes on napkins?

When you stayed up until all hours because two characters were arguing in your head and you had to find out who won?

There was joy in it. And curiosity. And PLAY. You just wanted to see what happened next. Nobody—probably not even you—was measuring your word count or asking whether the scene had sufficient narrative tension.

And then you got serious.

Which isn't necessarily bad. Learning craft is wonderful. Finishing things is wonderful. Publishing things is really wonderful.

But there’s a sneaky little danger in becoming serious about your creativity: Everything starts to count.

• Every writing session starts needing an outcome.
• Your hours must be productive.
• Each idea needs a purpose.
• Your reading begins to feel like a “have to,” instead of a “want or can’t-wait-to.”

Sweet Mother of All Fiction Writers, it made me tired just to type that bulleted list!

Your Creative Badass might not need more discipline.

(This is a mildly terrifying thought for those of us who have spent years trying to become more disciplined writers.)

What if the answer isn’t always to push harder?

Sometimes it is. Sometimes your Creative Badass needs you to stop whining, sit your butt in the chair, and write the damn scene. (Hence the mantra above.)

But other times? You’re hollowed-out. Uninspired and exhausted.

The trick is knowing whether you're avoiding the work or running on empty.

Your Creative Badass isn’t “just lazy.” Sometimes she’s depleted. And you cannot productivity-hack your way out of depletion.

You can certainly try. Creatives are nothing if not inventive.

• New planner!
• New writing app!
• New goal!

Sample goal: THIS time I shall wake at 5:00 am, meditate, journal, write 2,000 words, exercise, drink water, and become a New York Times bestseller by the end of the month!

Or...maybe you just need to go outside. Or nap or craft or clean. Do whatever renews YOU.

Rest is not the enemy of creativity

This one is difficult for me. I am very good at doing, but I am less accomplished at not doing.

Often, when I’m technically resting, some part of my brain is wandering around trying to work out solutions to problems, like maybe that would make the resting more productive.

But creativity needs empty spaces. Or at least empty brain spaces.

It needs walks, and conversations that have absolutely nothing to do with your work. It needs staring out windows, and reading books. Terrible television and cult-favorite movies. It needs quiet gardens and grand museums. It needs experiences that hold surprises.

To put it simply: our Creative Badasses will revolt if we keep pulling things out of the creative well without putting anything back in.

Make some time to play.

My husband asked me a question: When was the last time you wrote something you had absolutely no intention of sharing or publishing?

That one stopped me, because I couldn’t remember!

Don’t get me wrong. There are seasons for pushing toward a deadline, and the rewarding relief of knowing you made it.

But there are also seasons when the most useful thing you can do for your creativity is to stop demanding that it perform.

Go somewhere, and just notice things. Laugh with a friend. Read something delicious. Maybe you just need to allow yourself to get bored enough that your imagination starts looking around for something interesting to do.

I’m going to make a bet with you.

I’m betting your Creative Badass hasn't disappeared, any more than mine has. That it’s not broken. It’s just sitting in the corner, having a little tantrum, because you've turned everything it loves into homework.

Give that inner badass a little space, and something interesting to look at. Maybe a snack. Try something playful, unstructured, or ridiculous.

Maybe do something JUST BECAUSE IT DELIGHTS YOU, and see what happens.

I dare you.

Are you feeling revved or depleted in your writing life these days? When was the last time you created something purely because it sounded like fun? I’d love to hear your stories down in the comments!

About Jenny

By day, Jenny Hansen provides brand storytelling, LinkedIn coaching, and copywriting for small businesses. By night, she writes humor, memoir, women’s fiction, and short stories. After 20+ years as a corporate trainer, she’s delighted to sit down while she works.

Find Jenny here at Writers In the Storm, or online on Facebook or Instagram.

Top photo purchased from Depositphotos.

by Ellen Buikema

Revision is the process of rethinking the story—big picture stuff: considering your character's traits, reviewing your research, fine-tuning the plot, reorganizing chapters. This is done prior to editing the manuscript.

Focus on getting the story down first, then revise afterward with fresh eyes. Give yourself time, at least a week or more, between finishing the first draft and beginning the process of revision.

Writing is an art form and a discovery process. Keep in mind that there will be multiple revisions. In 1958 Ernest Hemingway told George Plimpton of The Paris Review that, "I rewrote the ending to Farewell to Arms, the last page of it, thirty-nine times before I was satisfied."

Steps to Revision

Wait a while.

• When returning to the draft, be honest. What you really think about the story?

Think big.

• Look at the large issues. Are you saying what you want to say? Will the reader understand what you are saying?

Revision is a chance to look critically at what you have written.

Problems with Revising While Writing a First Draft

Revising while writing the first draft can wreck creativity and slow progress to a crawl. Make them separate processes to avoid:

• Ruining Creative Flow
  • Writer’s Block: Stopping to revise interrupts the flow of ideas, curtailing writing momentum.
  • Narrow Focus: Tunnel Vision on particular sections may cause loss of character development and over-arching narrative.
• Delayed Progress
  • Time Loss: Revising takes time, sometimes more than writing the first draft, which delays finishing the story.
  • Feeling overwhelmed: Writers may feel frustrated by the need to be perfect, which can lead to burnout.
• Weakened Story Development
  • Fragmented Story: Revising while drafting can keep the writer from finding the story's potential, resulting in an incomplete narrative.
  • Stunted creativity: Over-revising can stifle creativity, making writers overly critical of their ideas and causing a loss of originality.

How to Avoid Revising While Writing the First Draft

Finish the first draft: Rather than revision, focus on getting the story written. There is no such thing as a perfect first draft. I realize that this is easier said than done, having had trouble with this myself. What helped me was my first time writing for NANOWRIMO, the National Novel Writing Month challenge where you attempt to write 50,000 words in the month of November. I didn’t think I could do it, but proved to myself that it was possible.

In order to write that much in the time allotted I had no choice but to write and not revise. I cannot begin to tell you how often I wanted to “just go back and fix a few things.”

Give yourself the gift of time: Allow time to pass before revisiting the draft for a fresh perspective.

Use Fresh Eyes to revise: Focus on improving the character arcs, narrative flow, and story structure.

This method helps enhance creativity so writers can produce polished work.

How to resist spending more time revising what you’ve written instead of writing what you haven’t had time to write—because you’re still revising.

Take notes as you go.

I am a fan of using Track Changes in Word. Comments in Google docs works too. Scrivener Inspector has Notes pane. So, there are a lot of options depending upon the chosen method for documenting your writing.

Say you decide that you should have done something big, like send a character off this plane of existence a few chapters ago. Make a note and then continue on as if you had already written that change. Revisit that section when you’re finished revising and ready to begin edits.

Try time management techniques.

The Pomodoro technique of working for a certain period of time, taking a short break, and then back to work again is helpful. This is what I did to get through NANOWRIMO.

I know people who work for a certain amount of time and treat themselves to a set number of tiny candy pieces, then back to work. That wouldn’t work for me as I’d be too tempted to scarf down the chocolate pieces as I wrote.

Here’s a link to other time management techniques.

The Editing Process

There are four primary types of editing

• Developmental editing
  • Evaluate overall structure, pacing, plot, and character development.
  • Focus on logic, consistency, plot holes, organization.
  • Resolve narrative issues.
• Line editing
  • Work on rhythm, flow, and tone.
  • Eliminate passive voice, wordiness, repetition.
  • Make sure writing sounds natural.
• Copyediting
  • Work on technical correctness.
  • Focus on internal consistencies (e.g. eye color, tattoo type), grammar, punctuation, spelling, syntax.
  • Polish the text and make it cohesive.
• Proofreading
  • Final review of manuscript prior to release.
  • Focus on typos, stray commas, formatting.
  • Make manuscript public ready.

Proofreading should always be the last task. If your story is initially a mess, as first drafts are by definition, proofreading first is like putting a band-aid on a gushing wound. There will be a plethora of changes before it’s time for this.

Final Thoughts

When revising consider using a printed copy as, for some reason, problems seem to show up easier on paper. Also, try:

• Reading chapters aloud.
• Use Microsoft Word’s Read Aloud under the Review tab or other similar product.
• Have someone else read it to you.

Listening to your work will help highlight hiccups in the story.

If you are giving yourself two hours to write and you have a niggling need to revisit a chapter, and cannot go forward until you do, go ahead and do it. However, allow yourself no more than twenty minutes away from writing. Set the timer and stick to the time allotted.

Revision is a holistic view of your work in progress. Give yourself time away from your manuscript’s first draft and come back to it fresh and clear-eyed. This will help to avoid emotional exhaustion /burnout and give you room to create good work.

What type of time management techniques do you use? Have you ever gone back into a story after the first draft and discovered that you need major changes? Do you like a particular tool for note taking while writing your stories?

* * * * * *

About Ellen

Author, speaker, and former teacher, Ellen L. Buikema has written Parenting ... A Work in Progress, non-fiction for parents, and The Adventures of Charlie Chameleon chapter book series with stories encouraging the development of empathy—sprinkling humor wherever possible. Her Works in Progress are The Hobo Code, YA historical fiction and The Crystal Key, MG Magical Realism/ Sci-Fi, a glaze of time travel.

Find her at https://ellenbuikema.com or on Amazon.

Top Image by Dorothe Wouters from Pixabay