Article: On Moving Your Readers

Have you ever read a book or watched something and found yourself getting teary? I have—and that’s a sign of good writing.

Here’s an example of a book I cried at - Adam Silvera’s They Both Die At The End. The title lands the biggest spoiler of the whole thing, yet the journey I went on with the characters was so rich and emotional that part of me longed for a last-minute twist that let them both live. But that didn’t happen. As promised from the get-go, both of the protagonists died at the end, and I was devastated.

Why? Because over the course of reading this book, I became emotionally invested in this young, queer love story, and I wanted them to win. Two characters, who started as total strangers both to each other and to me, had become close friends.

As writers, we often talk about the hero’s journey and character and story arcs, but it’s not so often that we discuss the reader’s journey and what that means.

Every time someone reads your work, they go on an adventure. They embark on a journey with an expectation to be moved, and since our words can’t do that physically, it has to be done emotionally.

In the case of They Both Die At The End, I spent 300+ pages experiencing Mateo and Rufus’s last day on earth with them and seeing how they brought out the best in each other. I went through all of the emotions, and even though I was left heartbroken at the end, I still felt satisfied because I’d ended in a different place than I’d started.

I’m not saying that every story has to bring tears to the eye, or have you wheezing with laughter, but it should effect change in some way. It might be a small change - a new awareness of something, a newfound sense of empathy, or a question that plays on the mind—but readers have to step away from the world you’ve created, having moved a little in their own.

Every line, every page, every chapter that you write should take them a little closer to that new position.

As a writer, you can’t be afraid to be vulnerable in your work. Vulnerability is the thread between you and your reader. Your work should make you feel how you want them to feel. It should be a shared experience between you putting the words on the page and someone else lifting them back up. The only thing that separates the two events is time.

There’s an important act of encoding and decoding that needs to take place in the writing process—a transference of thoughts and feelings. If you laugh, they will laugh; if you cry, they will cry. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve found myself welling up reading back a piece of writing, or felt my blood boiling as my characters have launched into an impassioned rage. Your words are your connection to the world, and if you don’t feel and experience them yourself, how can you hope for someone else to on the other end?

Our characters often take on a life of their own. In Episode 1 of We’ll Be Write With You, Shelly shared an exercise about dropping your characters into unfamiliar settings and scenarios to see how they react. As we write, we might find ourselves surprised by what they do, what they say, how they react and the choices they make. Many authors have described finding a point in their writing where they feel guided by the characters, rather than them deciding what the characters do.

It’s not a sign that you’ve lost control of your writing, but a sign that you’ve connected with it. Truly connected with it. That experience is the writing doing its job, and we’re just strapped in for the ride.

As much as we’re encouraged to read as writers, we should also be encouraged to write like readers. Along for the journey, open to surprise, ready to embrace and feel something new. That’s what that feeling of the characters taking charge is. That’s how we know that our readers will be transported, because we are too.

And now for the practical tips—firstly, to write like a reader, you also have to be a reader. It’s something we also discussed in Episode 1, but the more you read, the more you absorb, and the more you’ll understand how it feels to be moved while immersed in someone else’s writing. That understanding is invaluable for sharing your own experience with your readers.

Secondly, a simple way to get into the head of your readers is to distance yourself from the work. I know, it sounds impossible. Your writing is deeply personal, and it’s your baby. But between drafts, I’d encourage you to step away for a little while. Put it in a drawer, or file it away on your computer, and go work on something else. Give yourself the time and space to sever the bond (or at least soften it a little) so that when you read it back next, you’ll experience it through the eyes of your audience.

Notice the phrases that make you feel something—anticipation, excitement, joy, anger —and, more importantly, pay attention to those that don’t. Ask yourself, “Is this story taking me on a journey?” and take note of the answers to help you with your next draft. Your readers will thank you for thinking of them while you write.

Speak soon,Liam