9 Ways to Show the Reader it’s Love
By Kathryn Craft | July 13, 2023 |
photo adapted / Horia Varlan
If a stranger standing beside you on a train track simply blurted that they loved you, you wouldn’t believe them, would you? You’d want substantiation. Some clue that they weren’t a stalker, or that their emotions had been building over time. That’s because true love, ideally, is specific to the personhood of the two individuals involved—and something that both participants would like to be in on.
In stories, readers want in on it too—and like everything else in fiction, that requires showing. Yet so often, in the manuscripts I see that feature a romance, the writer has basted together a relationship with the thinnest of threads, while at the same time asking that readers buy that what they’re selling is love.
Since a well-developed romantic thread can keep readers of any genre turning pages, let’s look at some of the ways authors have successfully convinced readers that their characters are falling in love. Maybe one (or more!) of them will work in your story.
1. Show that love changes the character.
In A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman, Ove first sees the woman he’ll marry on a train platform, just as in my silly example above. But Backman convinces. Ove is compelled to follow her onto her train, which takes him two hours from home in the wrong direction. After sitting across from her to chat, Sonja tells him she takes the train back each day at 5, so maybe they’ll cross paths again—inciting him to loiter in the town where she’s attending school just so he can sit with her again on the way home. He does this for three weeks. She has a profound effect on him:
He had never heard anything quite as amazing as that voice. She talked as if she were continuously on the verge of breaking into giggles. And when she giggled she sounded the way Ove imagined champagne bubbles would have sounded if they were capable of laughter.
2. Show that the character wants to support their beloved in being the best version of themselves.
In Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens, a young man named Tate teaches self-raised protagonist Kya to read, opening her mind to the science behind the marsh she loves. One day he brings her a wrapped gift—a second-hand Webster’s Dictionary—and tells her to look inside.
Tucked in the P section was a pelican feather, forget-me-not blossoms pressed between two pages of the Fs, a dried mushroom under M. So many treasures were stashed among the pages, the book would not completely close.
3. Show that the character can’t stop thinking of their beloved—even beyond death.
In Jane Austen’s Persuasion, protagonist Anne Elliot allowed her family to persuade her that the sailor she loved was not a prospect who could secure her future. When the story begins, she has been pining for him for almost eight years‚ so when they meet again, the stage is set for sparks to fly.
From their beginnings on the train in example #1, Ove and Sonja stay married almost four decades until Sonja dies. Six months later, at the opening of the novel, Ove is suicidally depressed; he still sees her absence everywhere. In Chapter 14, five pages of their backstory are bracketed with these short, convincing sections:
Ove had never been asked how he lived before he met her. But if anyone had asked him, he would have answered that he didn’t.
~and~
But if anyone had asked, he would have told them that he never lived before he met her. And not after either.
4. Show that they “see” each other in a way no one else does.
About three-quarters of the way through the plot of Love Walked In by Marisa de los Santos, which has increasingly interwoven the life of Cornelia with that of her childhood friend Teo, who is in a troubled marriage to her sister—Teo tells Cornelia (POV) that he doesn’t think of her as short, as others do:
“Seriously,” said Teo seriously. “I guess you are short, but I’ve never thought of you that way.”
“You think of me as…” I waited.
“Essential,” he said.
In Shelby Van Pelt’s Remarkably Bright Creatures, only an octopus named Marcellus sees into the heart of aquarium cleaner Tova Sullivan, where she hides her enduring grief over the loss of her son Erik. Marcellus embraces her with a tentacle when she dips an arm into his tank—and in the final days of his life, surrenders an object that will help provide the closure she needs concerning Erik’s death. She responds with an equally loving act that shows she sees his true needs, as well.
5. Show mutual need fulfillment.
A short-but-sweet example of need fulfillment can be found in A Man Called Ove, as Backman summarizes what drew Ove to Sonja:
“She liked talking and he liked keeping quiet.”
While need fulfillment is a powerful draw, it can also set up great conflict when the characters grow and their changing needs threaten their relationship.
6. Show observation from outsiders.
In de los Santos’s Love Walked In, 60 pages after Teo’s admission that Cornelia is “essential,” they are at a family dinner described in the POV of 11-year-old Clare:
But Clare had noticed Cornelia when she’d first walked up to find Teo sitting on the porch, how instantly not just her mouth, but her entire body seemed to smile. Was this how she always smiled at Teo? Clare tried to remember.
[. . .]
At the kitchen table, Cornelia and Teo kept space between each other and didn’t touch. Clare looked at the space. She wondered if the air between Teo and Cornelia felt different from usual air, if it felt different to Cornelia, maybe warmer, or if maybe Cornelia were filling up the air with something no one could see.
7. Show deepening feelings with an emotional turning point.
This emotional turning point is from Ann Napolitano’s novel Hello Beautiful. Because it’s a newer title that many may still want to read, I’ll remove names from this excerpt, which so beautifully lays bare the interiority that, after a long slow build, convinces the reader of love.
[He] crossed the room to stand in front of her. He held his hand out, palm facing up. His skin was soft and warm, so different from that day. A wave of feelings ran through [her]. A radio dial spun inside her, the volume loud. I love you, she thought, and the words—impossible now to deny—brought her both desolation and deep joy. [He] was her one. He was her heart. He had changed all the molecules inside her. [She] had known love would come for her with the force of a tsunami. She’d dreamed of this ever since she was a little girl, and her dream had actually come true. But she hadn’t known her love would be impossible, a dead end, unspeakable…
8. Show that love causes deep inner conflict.
As with the final line from Napolitano above, love isn’t always convenient. It might cause deep inner conflict, as in Katherine Center’s How to Walk Away—and inner conflict is a very convincing way to say love matters. Over the course of a long rehab, injured protagonist Margaret falls for her physical therapist, Ian. They’ve even kissed—at which point he quickly backpedals, as he loves his work and a relationship with a patient is grounds for getting fired. Margaret doesn’t want him to jeopardize his job either, but she is so hurt she requests another therapist. But when Maggie tries to walk on her own in the rehab gym and falls, Ian rushes to make sure she’s all right—and before helping her up, embraces her.
Later, at a party, Margaret’s sister holds mistletoe over their heads, even though it isn’t Christmas.
“He can’t kiss me,” I told Kit. “It’s against the rules.”
“Which rules?” she asked.
“All of them,” I answered.
But Ian was considering his options.
It’s worth reading to see the big, beautiful emotional turning point that happens next…and its disastrous results.
9. Show the lovers sacrificing for each other.
In the movie Titanic, Rose is willing to sacrifice her station in life for the authentic connection she feels with Jack. After the ship sinks—and despite ongoing debates as to whether the floating door could have held both Jack and Rose—Jack ensures her survival by allowing Rose to use the door as a float alone, sacrificing himself for the woman he loves.
What else works? Consistent acts of service, learning a new skill or language, loving a beloved’s faults just as much as their strengths—there are as many ways to convince the reader that your characters are in love as there are ways to love in real life.
What will not convince the reader of love
• Physical proximity
• Physical attraction alone (although this drives great conflict when they inevitably turn away from each other and realize there’s nothing to bring them back)
• Handing over the reins of their life (although this drives great conflict when the character decides to self-actuate)
• Asking the beloved to do things legally/morally/ethically abhorrent to prove their love (although this drives great conflict when said laws, morals, and ethics are inherited from source figures )
• Attraction under the influence (although this drives great conflict when the characters sober up)
• Constant agreement (although drives great conflict when one begs them to fight for their relationship)
The one thing that never works is to simply assume that it’s obvious to the reader that two of your characters are in love—and that’s true even if you try to tell them that they are.
In story, a reader won’t believe it’s love until you show them.
Will any of these methods work in your novel? What works best to convince you of a loving relationship? What literary examples have helped you fashion an arc of love?
[coffee]
Such an awesome post, Kathryn! As always, your examples are perfect. And here’s another perfect example from the film “As Good As It Gets” when the Jack Nicholson character tells the Helen Hunt character: “You make me want to be a better man.” That’s a variation on your second point, or perhaps a place where your first and second points converge.
That snippet of dialogue from the film—that crystalline moment—was, in fact, the seed of my third novel. I wanted the protagonist’s feeling for the reclusive, troubled glassblower to call her to an act of unconditional love that she never dreamed she was capable of. And more: she is its only witness. Had the recipient of her generosity understood and thanked her, its impact on her life would have been diminished. Instead, this one act ends up changing her relationships with other characters, later in the story.
So: I think these manifestations of real love that you lay out so beautifully for us can unfold over time and have ripple effects on other characters as well. Thank you again Kathryn!
Thanks for your additional thoughts Barbara! I’ve witnessed that “you make me want to be a better person” love so many times in real life as well, even in small ways such as a person who leaves clothes lying all over the place suddenly realizing order is an act of love. As we know, change is key in a novel, and for a romantic thread to have power, love must result in change.
Definitely a powerful list.
It’s interesting to see the contrast between these signs of actual love and the simpler signs that aren’t. The real ones give deep, impressive proof of their connection, at least when handled as well as you show. The others are either grabbing the obvious or rushing the story to shove them together more than they’ve earned — definitely not enough, at least not on their own.
I’m glad you noticed that Ken, and pointed it out for others. Hopefully, some readers with underdeveloped romance threads will recognize this as well. This is an issue in many manuscripts I see as a developmental editor.
I particularly liked the example of a child’s POV, wondering if the air between two potential lovers was essentially changed. As always, your craft essays are so helpful.
I loved that one too! It felt like this technique is used less often. Thanks for stopping by Jacqueline!
“Show that love causes deep inner conflict!” Yes, so much a writer can do with this one. Great post, Kathryn.
Thanks Beth—inner conflict for the win!
Kathryn, this is a beautiful post on how to practice being loving in real life! Thank you so much for all these lovely examples. True love is willing the good of the other–it’s how we are able to make sacrifices and the ultimate, to give up our own life for the sake of the other. My husband and I are reading Thomas a Kempis’ Imitation of Christ together and holy smokes, over and over, we are admonished to think of others. But stories! Stories teach us how to truly love. Printing this one for my young friends who are discerning marriage :)
On behalf of the authors whose work I quoted, I’m so honored by your comment, Vijay’s, thank you! I too believe stories carry wisdom that we can absorb to our benefit.
Always LOVE your columns, Kathryn! This one was no exception. Though my novels are not romance, per se, I always have a love interest. I found myself going down your checklist to see if my stories fit the bill. I’m happy to say, “I think so?” :-)
Glad you got a good report card Densie! 😅 And thanks for your kind words.
Great examples and explanations, Kathryn. (And I loved Ove so much I’m jealous of Sonja.) I just finished Murakami’s “Norwegian Wood,” which looks at many angles on how love develops, some of them tormented and troubled. Reminded me of that quote from one of Hemingway’s books about how one goes bankrupt: gradually and then suddenly. And how love can haunt. Watch out for ghosts!
Ha! I’m a fan of A Man Called Ove, a wonderfully high-concept novel. I know some people didn’t care for the spare prose, but for me it evoked the character beautifully. I’ll have to check out Norwegian Wood, thanks Tom!
I have ALWAYS loved how Dorothy L. Sayers turned a foppish middle-aged detective, Lord Peter Wimsey, into THE most romantic novel hero I have ever read – in the midst of standard-for-her-era detective stories.
I’ve tried to carry that several notches higher in my mainstream trilogy, and have all kinds of plans for the final volume, in a twisted triangle story where the results affect so many people. It’s coming along very nicely.
You’re right: it matters. Integrity matters. Consequences and behavior matter. Fiction just makes it tidy and clearer of ambiguity. Every step must ring true. Having eschewed every trope, I have to make it work.
“Fiction just makes it tidy and clearer of ambiguity. Every step must ring true.” perfectly put, Alicia! And your twisted triangle sounds great.
Having never been a big consumer of series, I missed Peter Wimsey—and what a great name! I’ll have to check him out after your enthusiastic endorsement of the Sayer’s character.
The beginning of his redemption starts in the volume Strong Poison – well into the detective series.
It’s such a difference they had to change actors for the TV versions; the early one, Ian Carmichael, was a buffoon (in my estimation); the final one, Edward Petherbridge (the PERFECT gentleman), in the BBC production of the relevant four-book series near the end – Strong Poison, Have His Carcase, Gaudy Night, (and Busman’s Honeymoon, which the BBC didn’t do) (interspersed with others!) is what I’m talking about: she made him incredibly romantic – and then stopped writing much in mysteries and went on to write theology. Let me know what you think if you read them – and don’t skip BH. Most fans claim Gaudy Night is her best, but I have a fondness for the final BH.
It is unprecedented in British mysteries, of which I must have read thousands.
Alicia, I have your books on my kindle–at 99 cents each, they are a STEAL. Looking forward to reading :)
Thanks, Vijaya – looking forward to hearing from you about them. They WILL take you quite a few hours. I have a new reader in India who has decided to read the second book in the trilogy first (because it’s the one with a big chunk of the plot IN India), which leaves the first as almost an origin story, and I hadn’t even thought of that so learned something new myself.
Great post and examples, Kathryn!
Great post, Kathryn, on something I see SO often. Terrific, practical advice and examples. I’ll be sharing!
Thanks for sharing the post, Tiffany! I hear you—I see this problem all the time as well.
Thanks for the great tips and examples of ways to show love. I enjoyed A Man Called Ove and delighted in this line: “She liked talking and he liked keeping quiet.” I remember pausing a moment to smile and savor the impact. So much said in those few words.
Ah, our taste is similar, Maryann. To layer in meaning without verbosity, allowing the reader to conjure her own version of the world of story beyond the ink on the page, is a true art form.