Tension vs. Energy
By Donald Maass | January 6, 2016 |
What is more comfortable for you to write, feelings or action? It’s an important question. The answer predicts what we’ll mostly find on your pages but also what we mostly won’t. While it’s fine to fill pages with what is natural and easy for you, it’s also critical to get comfortable writing what isn’t.
Human beings can be broken into two broad psychological categories: those who store tension and those who store energy. Those things may sound the same but they’re not. People who store tension turn inward. Those who store energy turn outward. The first group ponders, reflects, thinks and feels. The latter group acts. One set of people likes to deal with life over a cup of tea with a splash of conversation. The other set prefers to go for a run or smack a ball with a stick.
If that sounds like a gender dichotomy you may be right. Psychologist Paul Rosenfels, in his work identifying polarity in people’s makeup, agreed. He did not assert that one way of being was better than the other; rather, he observed that the orientation of feeling-centric and action-oriented people come with advantages and disadvantages. Each group has their best selves and their worst selves.
There is no judgment in polarities. There is only the recognition that one is more naturally one type of person over the other. That’s important for fiction writers to know, too, and especially important as you focus on constructing the inner journey of change and fastening it to the outer journey through the plot. When you focus on what everything means it’s easy to overlook that things also must happen.
Now, understanding what type of person you or your characters are is fine but it’s not enough. What happens in a story is most authentic when it reflects and is driven by a protagonist’s swings between inward tension and its outer release. In other words, it’s the swings between polarities that causes characters and their stories to grip us as if they are real.
Most characters dwell in a state of being. At any point in a story their selves can be defined. However, a state of being is static; changing states are dynamic and what is story if not change? Indeed, as I have written elsewhere, changes in self-definition are the inner turning points that make scenes dynamic even when nothing overtly is happening.
That said, the events of a story become anchored in an emotional veracity when we can see through actions a character’s swing from the buildup of tension to the release of energy, or vice versa.
So what kind of polarity swings are we talking about portraying? Ones like these: Self-awareness turning into self-confidence; goodness hardening into righteousness; feeling safe transforming into feeling free; observing the world becoming taking responsibility for it. One pole is reflective, the opposite one is active.
Dwelling only inward produces a story that may resonate but not one that engages. It’s the kinetic force of a swing from reflection to action that stirs us and makes what characters feel becomes impossible to avoid. Such shifts feel real because they reflect our own human makeup, as Rosenfels showed us.
Marking a polarity swing most often means creating something for a character to do or say. As obvious as that sounds, I often watch writers in workshops freeze when it’s time for their characters to stick their necks out, do something we can’t miss, say things that cannot be taken back, or make an inconvenient mess. Characters are the most interesting when they’re inconvenient but making them behave that way is uncomfortable.
So, how can we turn this polarity principle into tools that help one to overcome the human inclination to be safe, cooperative and nice; or, sometimes, the reverse for thriller writers and other objective types who incline toward energy?
For today I’ll focus on the polarity swing from tension toward energy. Write down your answers to the following:
- Choose a moment when your protagonist sees or hears something unjust. A braver person would get involved. How?
- Your protagonist is good at something. A more commanding person would turn that into a show of strength. How?
- Your protagonist is helpful. A bolder person would be reckless. In what way?
- Your protagonist has insight into someone else. A more compassionate person would show that person kindness. How?
- Your protagonist is peaceful. A true leader would maintain peace by exerting power. In terms of your story, how?
- Your protagonist is a misfit, doesn’t conform and feels like an outsider. A more independent person would be a nonconformist, even break the law. When?
- There is something or someone who makes your protagonist impatient. A more headstrong person would be wholly intolerant. How would we see that?
- There is someone to whom your protagonist feels attached. A more engaged person would get deeply involved. How?
- Pick a time when your protagonist is withdrawn or distant. A more passionate person would completely detach and not care. We would recognize that how?
- Your protagonist is self-focused, even self-important. A stronger (weaker?) personality would be simply vain. About what in particular?
- Your protagonist has a logical way of looking at a problem. A more intuitive person would not think about it but instead do something unexpected and ingenious. What?
- Your protagonist is attracted to someone. A more uninhibited person would lean in for the kiss or send an unmissable kiss-me signal. What?
- Your protagonist can do magic. A greater mage can work miracles. What’s the biggest?
- Your protagonist is wise. A truly transcendent human being brings about the impossible. What in your story is impossible?
Do your answers suggest ways to make your protagonist more active, vibrant, surprising and memorable? If so, use them.
In life our moods swing. We contradict ourselves. We act out of character. We just plain act out. Why then is it so hard to allow characters to do the same?
What do you do store more naturally, tension or energy? How is that reflected in your writing and how will you swing your protagonist to the opposite pole in your writing session today?
[coffee]
Donald Maass (he/him) founded the Donald Maass Literary Agency. in New York in 1980. He is the author of The Career Novelist (1996), Writing the Breakout Novel (2001), Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook (2004), The Fire in Fiction (2009), The Breakout Novelist (2011), Writing 21st Century Fiction (2012) and The Emotional Craft of Fiction (2019). He has presented hundreds of workshops around the world and is a past president of the American Association of Literary Agents (formerly AAR).
Fabulous information and at a perfect time! Beginning my third book in the series and revising book two. Thank you! I love your craft books and am using your ideas with a teen writing workshop.
Awesome, Sheri, thanks.
I think I learnt more in the time it took me to read your article than I have in the past six months. Thank you for sharing.
High praise, thanks.
I kept thinking of how Hammett masterfully shows the final swing for Spade at the end of The Maltese Falcon. Sending the woman he loves to the noose. Without once “telling” us about it. Only through description and dialogue. “I don’t care who loves who I’m not going to play the sap for you.” etc.
Hey Jim, Happy New Year. And yes, exactly. Action is strong and Marlow’s is so strong that we don’t need a lot of words telling about the tension that precedes it.
Thanks, Don.
This comment answers the lingering questions I had about your post. . . that action (properly conveyed) can pin the tension without . . . a word.
Fascinating post. When I first started writing I struggled mightily with this dichotomy, being far more interested in thoughts and feelings than action. Since then, I’ve learned a lot about connecting the inner journey to the outer one. What I found most interesting here is your explanation of polarity swings. I hadn’t thought about turning points as a swing between reflection and action or vice versa. This perspective helps me think differently about the buildup and release of tension. Off to make use of your excellent prompts. Thanks!
Great, go for it.
I love your posts, and it seems the right one always lands in my inbox at precisely the moment I need it most. I’m currently addressing my agent’s notes to the MS due next month and this post helped me see one of the problems affecting the pacing in the middle. I’m definitely in the “tension storing” category, and my protag needs a little more action in his arc. I feel so much better now than I did an hour ago. Thanks for the shift in focus. ;-)
Glad you’re feeling better! The doctor is on call.
I really enjoyed this piece. In my stories, I often race through the action, but it’s during the revision I can add in the emotional layers, making motivation more clear. Alas, my readers don’t read minds so this is a necessary step.
As for me, I store longing before it all comes pouring out, either on the page, or in the kitchen, or playing the piano. I suppose we must build up something inside before it can come out.
A happy New Year, Don!
And 20+C+M+B+16 for WU
HNY to you too, Vijaya. The circle of tension and release is what we live. When we write that too a story feels like life.
Love those questions! I’m about to start the rewrites on my next book, but I’m thinking of those questions for my antagonist too, because he’s not completely villainous, and I want to make him too complex to completely hate. Thanks!
Great idea!
This had me thinking about Carl Jung and his ‘Four functions of consciousness’. Those that store tension reminded me of the more introverted, intuitive, feeling type character, whereas those that story energy seem more like extrovert, thinking, sense-based type.
What’s interesting is how, according to Jung, these types can switch according to circumstance; how the introvert can become extraverted in the right place, or with the right people, and vice versa.
I hadn’t really considered that in respect of story, so thank you for this article! I can see how the ‘polarity’ swing plays a big part of a character’s progression from A to B.
Another thought provoking post. You always make what seemed so complex (at least in my tension filled head) so logical and simple. Thank you.
You know, by nature I’m the cup of tea and talk type, but I’ve forced myself to become an active person for the sake of my health. And in doing so, I’ve noticed in writing my charactes have taken a more active turn. I suppose that proactive writing is then the melding of both energy and tension. Lots to think and do fueled by this post. Thanks again, and Happy New Year.
Jung knew a thing or two, needless to say.
Hi, my name is Keith, and I’m a tension-storer.
Thanks for a wonderful, thought-provoking post. One of the biggest recurring lessons I get from you is the need to have my characters act out more. In analyzing my favorite authors, their characters dare to say or do things I never would, which is a big part of what makes them so memorable. Thanks for the reminder.
And hey, Keith, who doesn’t want to act out more?
I like how you framed this dichotomy and show how a characteristic can play out as tension or energy – I’ve never thought of it that way.
It’s also interesting to think about the values different genres place on one leaning vs. the other. At first glance, romance clearly values tension, for example, while mystery usually leans toward energy (especially Hammett’s hard-boiled kind of narrative, mentioned above). But I’d guess that the best of both of these genres creates story tension by tapping into both sides, maybe even unexpectedly. I’ll have to read with this question in mind!
Rebecca, you’re so right about the differences in genre writing, and about tapping both tension and energy regardless of story type.
“Changes in self-definition are the inner turning points that make scenes dynamic, even when nothing overtly is happening.” I might have that tattooed on my hand. Plus it explains why I had so many love-hate moments with two of the novels I recently read. They felt static in too many places, with me bouncing in my chair saying “No, No, do something different!!” Or just, “do something!!” Now, if I can find those places in my own work…Your list of questions is awesome. Someone mentioned, above, how your posts always seem spot-on on any given day. I noticed that, too, and at first I thought you might be psychic. But now I think these things you’re teaching us apply universally to the process, and that emotion, micro-tension, action and change need to be lurking, to varying degrees, on every page. Once again, thank you.
You got it, Susan. Every. Page.
Well, you’ve certainly given me a busy morning. My wife came into my office about an hour after I sat down. She looked at the legal pad in front of me, full of notes, and said, “I thought you were going to read WU. What’s all this?”
“It’s stuff Don’s post prompted,” I replied.
“Wow, that’s all for your comment?”
“Nope. All notes for various scenes in the manuscript. Haven’t even thought about a comment yet.”
(Which made me think of sharing the moment for my comment.) Great exercises! Not that it’s unusual, but… Wow. Since this story starts out with my MC’s shame over his perception of his father’s disappointment in his timidity (inaction), I can so much better understand how the key moments of the polarity swings are key to emotional impact. And, as Kayleigh pointed out with her villain, the exercises are really useful when applied to other key players – in my case for both my male MC and his female counterpart. The bright moments come when their polarity swings mess with – or even flip – their ying-yang-edness. Much more to ponder here, too. (Does the pondering out me as a tension storer?)
What a great way to start the year! Busy morning = busy mind = busy (and productive) 2016! Here’s to making those poles swing in ’16! (Energetically, right?) Thanks, Don.
Vaughn, ponder…but then act. Writing involves polarity swings too.
This is excellent, Donald! You have a way of finding clarity in the complex. I’d like to add that beginning with a character in resistance to the thematic truths driving your story can help to build inner tension that demands outward release. Thanks so much for sharing your insights!
Most welcome.
I love it when my characters say or do things that can’t be taken back.
I find that writing action is hardest for me, probably because I’m a “tension-storer”. I hadn’t really thought of tension and energy in these terms before. Thank you for sharing!
My pleasure.
Don, I was struggling to explain to a new novelist why their character, while vivid, unusual and credible in the story’s context, stirred in me a claustrophopic, cramped sense. It’s that the inward tension that was created from the first-person POV had no release. So instead of me explaining, I’m just going to give her this post and say: “This.”
Thanks for your good stuff. It’s like having had a great lunch here, and someone asks “What could possibly be better?” And then you bring pie.
I am a big fan of pie. Classic apple, tart lemon…is it dinnertime yet?
Just what I needed as I begin revisions on my YA–getting my mind thinking in other directions. Thank you!
You’re welcome.
Don,
Great post (as always). And so timely.
This morning, I began the final edits on my MS. And the point that has been a little struggle is showing how my protagonist has changed. I know he has. He has a completely different outlook to life than what he had at the beginning of the book. And in some places, I try to talk about it though his internal thought process.
But now I realize that it is the showing part (the irreversible action part) which is missing. The shift in polarity would demonstrate this change. Am going to look for spots to insert these shifts as I finalize my edits.
Thank you.
Perfect, I think your ms will be stronger for it.
Hi Don, I’m going to focus on this one for an upcoming scene: Your protagonist is helpful. A bolder person would be reckless. In what way? Ella always wants to give more to her patients than is needed. But she could overstep and get herself in trouble–more tension, more problems for her already overloaded life. Happy New Year, Beth Havey
Your writing advice is the bomb dot com. And I only lavish dorky, outdated phrases on things I truly love.
Wow, information overload. Great post with so much I can use in my next revision. And I’ve never even thought about that whether it’s easier for me to write action or emotion. I’ll say action for sure, as I suck at anything sappy :) But in reality, emotion is difficult to write because I fall into the telling trap. “Jim got angry. Sally was sad.”
Hi, Don:
So sorry to be a day late. Hopefully I won’t be a dollar short.
First, like Keith, let me begin with: Hi, my name is David, and I’m a tension-storer.
You may have said it before, but as Susan noted above, this sentence absolutely nailed me to the wall this morning: “Changes in self-definition are the inner turning points that make scenes dynamic even when nothing overtly is happening.”
If I understand you correctly, then, a scene could have two such pivot points — an internal one, where the character inwardly recognizes a need to change their sense of self due to what has happened or is happening, and then a second, when that inner transformation gels into resolve and an action results.
Or am I over-thinking it? Are these in fact simply two facets of the same internal event?
I also remember your post on secondary emotions, and how readers react most actively when they can engage in the processing of emotion in a scene, and this is often best done not through the most obvious emotions at play but the subtler, less obvious ones that nonetheless are right below the surface.
I’m wondering if, as the character reflects on these secondary emotions, this doesn’t avail more unpredictable and thus potentially surprising, seemingly contradictory “acting out.”
BTW: I saw you slip in a reference to Jung in a comment. Is perhaps this dichotomy linked to his concerning introversion and extroversion?
As always, wonderful food for thought. And I second Bernadette’s statement that your ability to simplify the complex is admirable and much appreciated.
Hey David,
HNY. A scene’s inner turning point is the moment in a scene when what changes is not the story circumstances but a POV character’s perception of himself or herself. When that’s delineated (put into words) it gives the movement of a scene a double push. The plot and the inner journey both take a step.
The presence of a change in self perception also explains why some scenes have a sense of being dynamic and significant even when nothing overtly seems to be happening. It’s how elegant writers get away with inactive scenes. They’re not actually inactive, it’s just that what’s changing is something less tangible, something inside.
I hope we’ll be running across each other in person this year!
Such a great post! I never thought of energy/tension this way before, and it makes a lot of sense. Especially if you think of it with respect to introverts/extroverts. This gave me a totally new way to look at my characters. Thanks!
Just what I needed when I need it most.
Excellent tips on tying together the character’s internal and external self and making sure the inner journey and outer journey influence one another and grow adequately together. I like the emphasis on CREATING actions for the characters, based on their internal responses (and changing feelings) on the story events. This keeps there story organically grounded in the individual characters of that book.
–Sam Taylor, AYAP Team
Too good, Donald. Too good. I’m a novelist, and I also teach writing. I’m always looking for fresh perspective. How to hone those words, and the actions and feelings they convey. My students will love this, as do I.
Speaking of pie…Are you a fan of pecan?
Interesting post. Unknowingly I’ve mixed and used that character swing widely in my fiction. I just realized this matches my personality. In real life I push my actions forward and hate it when stuff isn’t happening. But while yanking the bull’s short hairs I also think and feel long and deep. My former life in construction management was about juggling extremes–such experiences serves my writing. Everyone dances on hot coals at times and that’s something a writer can use. Thanks for pointing it out logically.
I think it’s interesting that you say many authors freeze before making their characters act out, because I’ve noticed that in myself before. It’s easy to identify with a character to the point that you’re afraid to make them do anything foolish. Thanks for writing this piece; it was a very interesting read, and provided a lot of thought material. :)