The Power of Emotion by Connie Vines

In my opinion, all successful/popular novels, no matter what genre, have one key element: emotion.  Emotion lies at the core of every character’s decision, action, reaction, and motivation.  All of which drive the story. A character’s personal journey does not exist without emotion—it would be pointless. The plot would be made up meaningless events that a reader would not invest any time to read.  Why?  Because above all else, the readers choose a novel to have an emotional experience.  Be it a wild roller coaster ride of pure terror in a horror novel; reliving the sweet courting experience of an inspirational romance; discovering a new unexplored, heart-pounding world of a sci-fi; the pleasure of solving a who-done-it; or, pure laughter and fun in a read-it-at one setting comedy—readers want to connect with your characters.  With this connection to characters, who provide entertainment and whose trials and experiences may, in turn, add meaning to their own life journeys.

We are emotional beings.  Feelings propel us. Drive us.  Define us. Moreover, while it may seem that most of those exchanges happen during conversation, studies show that 93% of all communication is nonverbal.  Even in instances where we try not to show our feelings, we are still telegraphing messages through body language.  Because of the, each of us is adept at reading others without a word being uttered.

           

    Readers have high expectations.  Long done are the long intros: “There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.  We had been wander, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so somber, and a rain so penetrating”.  . . I am certain you recognize the first sentences of my favorite classic novel, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.  A delightful read, rich in detail and thick with emotion—but not a read easily consumed during a pause in a workday, or after getting toddlers off to bed.  Readers no longer wish to be told how a character feels; they want to experience the emotion for themselves.

               This leaves the writer with the challenge of ensuring that our characters express their emotions in ways that are both recognizable and compelling to read.  Personally, I find that less is more.  I am always aware of the pacing of my story.  Too many clues to describe a character’s feelings can dilute the reader’s emotion experience.  Backstory is only pepper in to allude to a ‘trigger’ emotion.  Example:  Marty, in the BACK TO THE FUTURE series of movies.  A cliché, but calling Marty ‘chicken’ worked every time—the viewer knew and expected ‘something’ to happen. Not that I have ever, I hope, have resorted to a cliché, but my characters have a ‘fatal flaw’.  I cannot divulge any that I have used because it would ruin the storylines.  But we all have our ‘trigger’ emotion.  If you have siblings, undoubtly, you were tormented with it on numerous occasionally.  Our ‘characters’ may or may not recognize a personal tigger emotion.  This is writer’s preference in relationship to plot and character development.

               One emotion that I find fun to watch (in young children) and it easy to work into a YA story is amazement.  To a toddler everything is new and amazing.  The child’s eyes widen.  The child becomes suddenly still.  May suck in a quick breath/hand covering one’s mouth. Stiffening posture.  Rapid blinking followed by open staring.  Reaching out and touching or taking a step back. I am certain you could add to the list my recalling your personal experices or observations.

               Now how would that young child feel, internally?  A heart would seem to freeze, the pound. Tingling skin. Adrenaline spikes. The mental reaction in the amazed person could be disorientation, momentarily forgetting all else, or wishing to share the experience with others.  Now say your character is a shy or too cool to give anything away.  How could this emotion be suppressed? Self-hugging, jerky, self-contained strides, Eyes widening a bit before control is asserted, mouth snapping shut.  The clues are always apparent. 

               I like to get to know my characters, savor my scenes, and always dig deeper for the right word. The right motivation.

               I enjoy the journey to discover my characters, their hopes and wishes.  I feel blessed to tell each one of their stories.  And I hope that my novels, in turn, bring hours of enjoyment into each of my readers’ lives.

               In closing I’d like to share a bit of my past.

               When my first YA historical novel was published, I was honored at a Red Nations Powwow.  The tribal elder, Jacques Condor, told me I was being honored as a StoryTeller.  We both knew this was a great-honor among the tribes. He reminded me, always, to be humble, because it is the Story who chooses the StoryTeller to bring it Life. 

               My mandella hangs my living room wall, and my hand-tooled silver ring is worn to remind me of both my gift and my duty.

               Thank you for taking the time to read my entry to my publisher’s daily blog.

               Fondly,

               Connie

Vacation, Coffee, and Me By Connie Vines

'A writer never has a vacation. For a writer, life consists of either writing or thinking about writing.'  

From the Urban Dictionary:   

Coffee snob

1- An individual who cares about what coffee or coffee mix drink they put in their mouth. A coffee snob is not okay with Starbucks, or Tim Hotrons, or Dunkin Doughnuts, or McDonald's (including McD's--my clarification)...etc.

2- A coffee snob would rather drink water than drink old coffee. An anal coffee snob will not drink the coffee if it needs milk and anything more than 1 tsp of sugar.

3- A coffee snob supports local roasters and refuses to drink Folgers, Maxwell House, or any other pre-ground non-fresh coffee--including instant.

"Hey, you want some coffee?" 

"What do you have?"

"Instant and Folgers."

"Umm... You got water?" 

"Oh. You must be a coffee snob, huh?"

"Yes, sorry."

While on most family vacations my ‘purest’ stance was a bit of a pain for my two children and husband (who doesn't care what the blend the coffee is as long as it’s throat burning hot).   However, when we vacationed in Louisiana (my husband’s home state), to his amazement, I never once voiced a complaint or dumped a full cup of coffee on the asphalt outside of a fast-food establishment (near the shrubbery—I am not without sensitivity) after being served a cup of coffee.

I savored.  I sipped. I was thrilled the morning I was awaken by the fragrance of hot, rich coffee. My husband and children walked over the Café de Monde at sunrise and brought coffee and beignets (still warm in the trademark paper bag) to our hotel room.

And at that moment, sipping coffee and munching on warm beignets, I became a New Orleans, French Quarter, coffee snob. Think: steaming mug, lazy strains of jazzy trumpets and the scent a gulf breeze, and powdered sugar.

Unless you have been to New Orleans and experienced café au lait, it’s difficult to understand why a cup of coffee could equal such bliss.  Unlike the coveted slice of French bread from San Francisco (yes, it really is unique when dining on the bay), or stone crab in Florida, or Montana huckleberries—these flavors can’t be packaged or frozen, or duplicated. The French Quarter coffee, however, can be purchased in supermarkets, or online. 

However, French Quarter coffee is cut with chicory. 

So what the heck is chicory?  Chicory, the knobby core at the base of an endive plant, roasted and ground (it has a sweet tobacco-smoke aroma) and mixed with coffee. When mixed with fresh ground coffee, the chicory adds that same dried-fruit sweet-sourness to the cup up front, and lightens the body with a "mellowing" effect.

Like countless writers before me I found New Orleans inspiring, magical, and seeped with history.  Jackson Square, a paddle boat ride up the Mississippi, St. Charles Street, surrey rides, walking the Quarter at night, dining, music and talking to residents of the city—it is wonderful to see how the city has re-emerging from the tragic consequences of Katrina.   And like many authors who have visited or lived within the city, a story that’s root inside your physic—a story which demands to be told.

And while I plot and polish my anthology that is set in New Orleans, I listen to jazz on Slacker radio and slip hot chicory coffee from my Café du Monde mug.

My home brew may not quite obtain the ‘perfection’ of a mug of coffee I sipped on vacation in New Orleans, I can console myself with a visit to the Blue Bayou Café at Disneyland when writer’s block nips at my heels.  There, seated at a waterfront table set with: white linen table cloth, china, goblets and ornate silverware, I watch the “Pirates of Caribbean” boat passengers as they float by.  I can hear croaking frogs and the soft strains of jazz trumpets from Jackson Square while twinkling fire-flies enhance my illusion of ‘bayou darkness’.  And for one magical moment, I am back in New Orleans.

Cafe du Monde

Steel Magnolias
Motion Picture
(not taken in New Orleans--this is near my husband's home town)

·        Author’s note: I do enjoy and indulge in Starbucks coffee.

Happy Reading,

Connie

A Few Lines From. . . Connie Vines

Brede swallowed, trying to ignore the thick, tight feeling wedged in his throat.  He didn't welcome the onslaught of emotion that filled his chest and caused him to stroke her jaw with an unsteady finger tip.  He reminded himself that he didn't need to be involved in her problems; he had enough of his own.  As soon as the roads were passable, he'd get her to a doctor and the police could take care of the rest.

Still, no matter how hard he tried to remove himself from the situation, he kept remembering how fragile she'd seemed in his arms.  he felt as if he'd carried a sparrow, all feathers and tiny bones, out of the gully.

 

 

 

 

 

 

http://www.amazon.com/Brede-Rodeo-Romance-ebook/dp/B00DRPHILY

Connie Vines

Expect the UnExpected!

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Stop back next week for a few lines from Joan Hall Hovey.