I saw this image and instantly loved it. It reminded me of why I write and read. I love books filled with emotions, the kind that wind so tight you can’t hardly breathe until you know everything is going to be all right. Only a book with great heart can do that.
I remember the first time I read Whitney, My Love by Judith McNaught. I could not put that book down to save my life. I don’t even like historical romances generally, but this book grabbed me. Ms. McNaught put poor Whitney through hell and back. I cried with her and laughed with her while sitting curled in an afghan all through the wee hours of the night and into the morning.
Of course that is just one book of the thousands I’ve read, and of those probably only one tenth of them have affected me the same way. It was one of the first to do so, and it set the standard for me. It also showed me how I wanted to affect my readers, to make them experience what my characters felt, the good and the bad. I wanted them hanging on my every sentence, and unable to put down the book until the end.
Emotion is not the easiest thing to convey, in order for someone to “feel” it they have to experience it and not just read it–that means showing not telling. As a new author it was one of the hardest things for me to catch. It is so easy to tell someone how your character feels rather than letting them figure it out.
But you readers you know it when you see it. It’s the book you liked but didn’t love, didn’t feel “that” connection to. Maybe you started reading it but put it down and forgot about it for a week or longer? Am I right?
We all read for many reasons, for me it’s to escape my reality for a bit and enjoy someone else’s. Finding a reality filled with emotion is the best kind. What book or books have you read that made you feel part of them? Dragged you kicking and screaming through the story and had you dreading getting to the last page?