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As author Eric T. Benoit once said, your job as a writer isn’t to convey emotion, but to invoke it. Trying to convey emotion more often than not leads to tired clichés of clenched fists and sweat d...
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#3: Attribution notice added
Source: https://writers.stackexchange.com/a/32127 License name: CC BY-SA 3.0 License URL: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/
#2: Initial revision
As author Eric T. Benoit once said, your job as a writer isn’t to convey emotion, but to invoke it. Trying to _convey_ emotion more often than not leads to tired clichés of clenched fists and sweat dripping down the characters’ brows, etc. The only emotion you’re likely to invoke in your reader is that of boredom. As with keeping your readers’ interest throughout the rest of your novel, you keep their interest through a dialogue by dangling the carrot the in front of them, building up the double-entendres, quid pro quos, veiled threats and misunderstandings, and generally not giving your audience what they want. This in turn makes _them_ feel tense. Because damn it, what’s going to happen next? Quentin Tarantino is a renowned master of suspense and tension, and if you haven’t watched Inglourious Basterds I would highly recommend you pay attention to two scenes in particular. The first is the opening scene, where an SS Colonel hunting Jews in France speaks with a dairy farmer. For the most part the two characters talk about cows, milk, and smoking their pipe, while only vaguely broaching the actual topic at hand. They talk about rather inconsequential stuff. Yet I was on the edge of my seat the entire time, as was just about everyone else in the theater. When the farmer finally breaks and reveals the location of the Jewish family he’s been hiding, a loud, collective “NO!” went out through the audience. How did Tarantino achieve this? By skirting the issue and beating around the bush. By having a fantastic actor in the role of an SS Colonel that acts and looks a creep. By letting you know that the farmer was lying to protect a Jewish family. By making you wonder how much longer he could keep his composure. By dragging out the scene, knowing full-well that the longer it went, the lower the likelihood of a positive outcome. But most importantly, by making you falsely believe that the good guys had won, _then immediately going on some racist diatribe_. And that’s an important point: if someone says something to piss off your protagonist, then your reader should be pissed off too, or experience an equally strong, similar emotion. But if you’re worried about offending your audience you’re going to have a very hard time writing anything interesting. There is another scene later on where the characters are just playing some funny drinking game in a bar. The same tricks are used for the most part, and once again I (along with the rest of the theater) was on the edge of my seat. You may or may not like Tarantino’s work, but his two Academy Awards were given for screenwriting. So learn it from the best!