How did anger come to be the go-to in our world? It’s in politics, music, social media. It’s touted as healthy for women (is it?), and the part of men to stamp out. It’s a word we hear so much, with a sense that if we emblazon it in a big letter A on our chests, we’re doing what we should.
Altogether, though—at least in the story-telling world—it feels like a short-cut.
Too often, when writers work to plant Anger on the page, so much of it comes across as “same,” a tune with a single and lonely note; the shouting all hits the same level of intensity.
It’s like taking a car from zero to one hundred and twenty in split seconds, but somewhere in there is fifty, eighty, one hundred. And the zero-to-one-twenty anger is a lot less interesting than is the “how did they get there?” piece.
Mary Karr, in her book The Art of Memoir, uses the word “carnality” to express the physicality of story. The carnal—she’s not talking “sexual” here, but rather “sensory”—is the embodiment of the unseen, the emotional—and yes, the embodiment of anger. The “carnality” of anger is fairly straightforward: blood rushing, face flushing, heart beating, fists forming…
It is trickier to describe the genesis of the anger. But anger does not appear in a poof from a lamp. It grows, whether or not one is aware of it, it evolves from a number of sources and although the end-emotion might be the same, or at least appear to be the same, the evolving emotion/s are what is both fascinating and human to see and to read.
Exercise 1: Let’s explore some birth-places of anger. As you read the list, grab a notebook or your journal, and create several columns. Label the columns: Incident / Emotions / Carnality and then create rows for the following words. You may not fill out all but work with those that either grab you for some reason or connect with characters you are currently working on. Many are synonyms, so choose the shade of meaning that inspires you.
Fill in the squares either according to you own experiences, others’, or your characters. Read through slowly: allow images and sensations to come to your mind. If you are exploring a particular character you are struggling to understand and develop on the page, let that character inhabit you (yes, cue the Twilight Zone music!), and consider their POV and their world.
So you might let an image drift in about a time when you were taken in, or “tricked” by someone you trusted.
Column 1, jot words about what happened.
Column 2, your emotions about the incident (do not use the word “anger”! You’re exploring All That Went Before).
Column 3, slow yourself enough to recall the physical sensations that were evoked.
Note that you might find it more useful to exchange columns 2 and 3. Recalling the physical might help you to access the emotional.
The list of words:
embarrassed / ashamed / guilty / humiliated
frustrated / confused / exasperated
anxious / stressed / worried / nervous
scared / uncomfortable / trapped / threatened
grief-filled / regretful / unhappy
overwhelmed / helpless / exhausted
tricked / unsure
depressed / lonely
distrustful / insecure /envious
grumpy / out of sorts / disgusted
attacked / hurt / traumatized
rejected / offended / disappointed
annoyed / irritated
disrespected / tormented
~~~
Exercise 2: Write an emotion-evoking passage and share with another writer. (Post in the comments!) Do not name the emotion. Create the sense of it by evoking the physical/carnal response, by “hearing” it in characters’ dialogue, by picking up on it as the atmosphere of the setting—think locale, season, time of day, weather. Create it by using the character’s POV as the lens for which objects are being noted, how the light is in the room, what colors show up in the text. Is there an out-of-date calendar on the wall? Stacks of books? A vacuum cleaner abandoned in the middle of the doorway?
As you write, circle around the emotion without pointing directly to it. Allow the reader to absorb what it is.
Exchange such written passages with another writer, and share with each other what you think is the emotion evoked… and why you think that, so they know how their written words are reading. This will strengthen your work.
About your character
Ask yourself what is the anger-legacy, or lack thereof, in this character’s life? Did they grow up in a home in which anger was hidden away? Talked about? Swiftly shut down? Were words said, and things thrown? Worse?
Who dealt with it… parents? relatives? siblings?
Was it a slow burn or in bursts?
How does the character feel and think about their own anger? I say “feel and think” because beliefs and thoughts can be two radically different things in the same person. And beliefs tend to be set in concrete, while thoughts can change—in some people, thoughts change with the wind.
What does it take to convince your character of something? Are they easily frustrated or shut down? Do they blow up and then settle? Do they store up grievances, then blow up over “nothing?” Or are they pay-as-you-go?
You may end up not taking the anger path at all with your character once you’ve thought through some of these answers; you may realize the nature of their emotions and background and life-approach. Guaranteed, anger is always more complicated than it appears on the surface.
Evolution
By definition, “evolution” is slow-growing. As readers, we watch characters change, bit by bit. Sometimes we recognize ourselves, or facets of self or others in what we read. At the very least, we come away from the experience of the character and the story with new knowledge of what it is to be human; this is why we read.
In other art forms, this subtle evolution can be difficult to see, but inside a book we experience the minutiae of growth. We are never inside the head of the starring role in a movie; we can only see from the outside. But in a book, we can see right into the character’s very soul at times, especially in the hands of a developed writer.
And home arrival
Once you have taken the long way home—that path through complicated emotions—don’t forget to include the anger piece! (If it still wants to be there.) It will no longer be generic Anger. After this work, you will understand its birthplace; it will shape accordingly and honor the unique in your character.
(Duck for flying objects!)
Alison, this is wonderful. I'm setting this exercise aside for the weekend, when I can really dig into it.