The Emotional Journey: Finding Destination

                                        

                                       NOT EXACTLY THE BEST DESTINATION

       I got in a big fight with my wife--very emotional with acerbic exchanges--and I said, "I'm leaving!  And I'm not coming back!"   I got in my car, drove to the end of the driveway with blinding rage filling my head like an elephant in a hot tub, turned right for no apparent reason and drove for about two minutes--yelling at my wife (who was still back at the house, of course)--letting her really have it now!-- when I realized I had no destination. . .except away.
    I sometimes begin a story or a novel with no destination.  It's exciting to discover and explore; it's what I love about writing.  But once I have my story--beginning, middle and end--and I've begun to form characters in my mind, visualizing them, hearing them speak (and trying not to talk back too much), there is an important force in every story that I address: emotional composition.
    When I'm directing actors, I frequently re-direct their instinct to use anger as the emotion d' jour.  Anger is the easiest emotion to find and express.  I try to stimulate the actor's thinking, hazing them into a direction away from the obvious emotion.   There are varieties of every emotion.  There's a smorgasbord of ways to express anger, but the loud outburst is the usual choice amateurs choose to take from the table.  Once they have expressed this kind of anger, though, there's no where else to go.
    Before I take this journey in my writing, I want to know something about my vehicle, about the roads and highways I might be taking.  This is what I found:    
    Robert Plutchik created a wheel of emotions in 1980 which consisted of 8 basic emotions and 8 advanced emotions each composed of 2 basic ones:
                        




The Emotion Annotation and Representation Language (EARL) classifies the following 48 emotions:

        So once I've packed my bags with characters brimming with all these emotions, I have to decide where I'm going.  Not in the story, but in the emotional journey.  Each scene I write will bear some level of emotional baggage. . .or treasure.  
        If you watch a fine actor like Robert De Niro, you will see him take his audience on an emotional journey.  But he's not going to leap to anger.  He'll start with irritation, allow his character to receive something from other characters, before moving to annoyance and ultimately to anger.
        In writing, I do the same.  I call it "finding destination."  I give my characters somewhere to go.  Lunging right into love is not only unbelievable but uninteresting.   The interest a reader has in the story--even a scene--comes directly from their riding your vehicle and finding destination.  Once the scene reaches it's emotional destination, there has to be a transition to the next emotion.  It's like taking a trip to San Diego and stopping in Santa Ana to eat, Carlsbad to grab a cold drink, and then reaching my destination.  
        Finding destination means giving my character somewhere to go with his emotions and feelings.  Here's an example of how I would not write it:

        Arnold waited for forty-five minutes at the table, fiddling with his fork and feeling the heaviness of his hunger.  The waiter came by the table for the fourth time to ask him if he wanted to go ahead and order.
        "I'll give it fifteen more minutes," Arnold said.  "She'll be here."
        "Sir, I can't hold the table like this," the waiter said softly.  "The manager expects me to turn tables or we don't make any money--or tips."
        "Listen, buster!" Arnold bellowed, slamming his fist on the table.  "Tips is an acronym for To Insure Prompt Service!  It has nothing to do with how fast I order!  Now leave me alone until either my date arrives or fifteen minutes expire!"

        On it's face it seems to work okay.  But if the scene developed more, perhaps having a similar conversation after, say, thirty minutes waiting at the table where Arnold feels embarrassed or worried or irritated, the character would be more understood--depending upon the emotion I chose in the earlier scene--when he finally loses his cool.
        Over the course of an entire book, I've used characters who have emotions that are expressed in one feeling early in the book, another feeling in the middle, and, by the time the character reaches the climax of the story, he's feeling something completely different.  Fear is a good example.  Early in the book, the character reacts to his fear with shame; later with resolve; and finally with bravery.
        Sending a character on an emotional journey without a destination is sophomoric writing.  It's as immature as my speeding away, never to come back, without taking my possessions or having a place to go.  
        During my editing of a story or novel, I repeatedly remind myself: "Give yourself somewhere to go!  Don't get there too soon!  And never be late!"
Posted by Tom Eubanks at 2/14/2011 8:59 PM
Categories: Places!, On Writing, See Me Feel Me
Tags: Essay Storytelling Working It
 

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