The Roles of Emotion in Writing

“Where do you get your ideas?” This question, commonly asked to writers, elicits many different responses. Inspiration can come from current events, life experiences, interests, the combination of different concepts, dreams, a character who pops into one’s head, or seemingly out of nowhere. There are probably more sources of inspiration out there than there are writers, with some claiming that getting an idea is the easy part and the challenge, and craft, lies in fleshing it out.

Ideas are the “head” aspect that impels us to write, but emotions are the “heart” side of this. Often writers are driven to the page or keyboard by some feeling, whether anger at injustice, grief over a loss, or wonder at something beautiful they’ve witnessed. To write powerfully, tapping into emotional truth helps a whole lot. This is done through connecting with your own emotions, and through applying tools of the craft to connect with your readers’.

Writing and your emotions

Writing has long been viewed as cathartic, and research now supports this view. Writing about difficult experiences, including trauma and grief, helps make meaning of these experiences and reclaim personal power. Writing from emotion is healing for the psyche and even the body, with potential immune benefits for those facing terminal or life-threatening illness. And writing from strong positive emotions might strengthen them as well, and shape them into something that will resonate powerfully with others. (Just think of your favorite love poem.)

Writing from emotion transcends the personal. You’re not the only one who feels the emotions you translate into words. Most of us have had the experience of opening a book and finding a passage that described a personal truth, touching us deeply and leaving us feeling understood, less alone, perhaps even more at peace. Natalie Goldberg claims, “When you heal yourself, you’re helping everyone. When you become clear, it helps everyone become clear.”

Aliette de Bodard wrote her Locus and Nebula award-winning science fiction short story, “Immersion”, fueled by “getting really angry.” It’s a compelling story of a technology that perpetuates colonialism by giving people avatars with knowledge and behaviours that can mirror the dominant culture’s, with characters who begin to find ways to break free. One of my favorite short stories, “Immersion” is beautifully written, and given its accolades, the emotional heart also struck a chord with readers – perhaps bringing some of the clarity Goldberg spoke of.

Writing and your readers’ emotions

De Bodard and Goldberg have plenty of company; most writing has an emotional core with impact beyond the words, which features strongly in the most beloved works. In his Master Class on storytelling, Neil Gaiman states that when you write a story, you must decide or discover what the story is about. This goes beyond the basic plotline and into the domain of meaning: what appears on the surface to be an adventure story can, on a deeper level, be about homelessness and invisibility. Gaiman emphasizes the importance of emotional truth, of being more vulnerable and honest in your writing than you’re comfortable with. Only then, he proposes, will readers see themselves in your story because it seems real.

Once you’ve brought your honesty to the page, you might, in a second draft, consider the effectiveness of your writing’s emotional communication with readers. If you’re writing fiction, consider whether your characters’ emotions and motivations are clear on the page (rather than just in your head). Think about their relationships and interpersonal dynamics: Who gets along? Who dislikes each other? Why? If you’re writing poetry, do the rhythm and images support the feeling you want to get across? If you’re writing nonfiction, does the voice? Having a friend read and give feedback can also help with making the emotional tone is strong and clear.

Emotions are powerful, and sometimes painful. If you write, they are among your most powerful tools for creating work that leaves a lingering impact on your well-being and others’ reading experience.