How to Improve at Writing Emotions
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We read for many reasons, but I’d argue that one of the top reasons we read is to feel.
We want to care about characters. We want to connect with (or at least empathize with) their struggles, triumphs, and all the undercurrents of subtler emotions. In essence, we want them to feel human to us.
So, as writers, we need to get good at layering emotion into our narrative.
The problem is writers often get too cerebral about emotions by thinking about what the emotion should feel like, rather than tapping into the bodily experience of that emotion. This can lead to writing that stays on the surface (think: “She was angry”), or cliché (think: “pounding heart” or “butterflies in her stomach”), or writing that simply lacks vibrancy and resonance.
Part of the challenge, according to emotion-researcher Brene Brown, is that many people don’t have a full lexicon for their emotional experiences. Instead they believe they’re privy to only the sad-glad-mad trio.
But there’s so much more than three emotions. In her recent book Atlas of the Heart, Brene Brown defines over 80 emotions. That’s a lot of emotion — which means your characters shouldn’t stay on the emotional surface (sad-glad-mad) if you want your story to resonate with your reader.
Let’s explore four key ways to improve at writing emotions.
1. Identify the full range
Download a feelings wheel. A simple Google search will pull one up.
This colour-coded chart has dozens of emotions in the outer wheel; these are subtler or more complex emotions, like cheeky, betrayed, or perplexed. Then it moves in another layer, featuring purer emotions such as playful, hurt, or confused. These all link to seven core emotions: happy, sad, surprised, bad, fearful, angry, and disgusted. Access to this emotional lexicon means you can fine-tune your scenes.
I’m currently writing a scene where one character feels hurt and critical in the presence of another. This is different from a stomping-mad diatribe. It’s more subtle. The hurt makes her guarded. And the critical element prompts her to verbally jab her antagonist.
Find a scene you’re working on. Identify the core emotion. Then look at the wheel and ask how it can play out. Say your character feels nervous. When you look at the wheel, you’ll discover there’s a connection to fear. Ask yourself, what’s this character afraid of in this moment? Rejection? Losing dignity? Death? And how does that impact their behaviour?
2. Catalogue your own feelings
Now that you have the feelings wheel, notice when a feeling arises in you. (WARNING: start with garden variety feelings and avoid feelings that trigger an overwhelming or traumatic response). You can replay a recent event in your mind — perhaps irritation at the grocery store, or joy at watching kids at a piano recital. Now, close your eyes and feel how your body responds to that emotion.
Become a scientist and jot down field notes. Name feelings and the corresponding bodily sensations — not what you think the emotion feels like, but what it actually feels like for you. Do your muscles twitch? Does your temperature rise or your skin get clammy? Does your throat get tight or do your eyes sting as they water.
Create your own catalogue of responses to refer to as you write. These fresh descriptions of emotion help them become alive on the page and in your story.
For example, you may notice the base of your skull ache when you feel overwhelmed. So when your character encounters something overwhelming, you can draw on your own experience like this: The base of her skull ached and a haze fell over her vision.
When we refer to our own direct experiences, the language and descriptions in our writing are fresher, more interesting, and easier to relate to.
3. Use metaphor or image for emotion
Metaphors and images are a wonderful way to describe emotion. Unfortunately, a lot of writers default into sentiment or cliché. (Think: “He cast his eyes to the ground.” Or: “Her heart thumped like a closed fist.”)
Instead, connect again with the physical sensations of a feeling your character is having. Notice how it translates in your body. For example, joy may feel like a fizziness through your chest. Close your eyes and feel that fizziness. Then notice if an image arises from that place in your body.
I just had the image of standing under a waterfall. So, I might write something like, She felt like the froth at the bottom of a waterfall, bubbling like the water itself as rainbows prismed through the mist. Joyful, right?
But say no image arises for you. No problem — I’ve got another trick for you.
Look around the room or outside your window. Which object best represents a stand-in for the emotion you're working with? Thinking again of joy, I might observe out my window and write: She felt like the song of the sparrow.
This is really fun to play with. While not all the images you encounter will work in your story, the practice is valuable. If you get one fresh and stellar description out of ten attempts, it’s well worth it.
4. Leverage resistance
The fascinating thing about emotions is how humans resist feeling them. Especially unwanted ones like anger, depression, or anxiety. But this can actually serve our writing.
Think about embarrassment. There’s no denying when it shows up in our bodies — red face, sweaty palms, etc. But then we become embarrassed or ashamed about our bodily response and try to hide it, push it away, or override it. One character might lash out to obscure their embarrassment. Another may retreat into a bathroom stall to calm down.
The resistance to a particular feeling is also rich territory for interior thought. What does your character think in response to the unwanted emotion? How do they process it? Are they self-aware or confused by their response?
In scenes that feel flat, notice if you’ve written emotion without this push-pull between what shows up in the body (the feeling) and how the mind reacts (in thought and action). Then, add that layer of resistance and see what happens.
Now, it’s easy for me to say “don’t overthink it” — but I mean it. Again and again, return to your body and write from there.
Traci Skuce is a devoted writer and story midwife. Her own short story collection, Hunger Moon (NeWest Press, 2020), was recently shortlisted for the Kobo Emerging Writers’ Prize. She helps fiction and memoir writers birth and finish their stories so they can get their manuscripts out into the world. Interested? Here are 5 Ways to Unstick Your Story.
