Intimacy by definition means having a close understanding or association or detailed knowledge of something or someone.

Intimacy creates bonds—between a reader and character.  

You in your memoir or your character in a fictional plot might feel an intimacy or bond with things as diverse as land or nature, a job, a grandparent, a city neighborhood, a new car, etc.

Intimacy means you GO DEEP with emotional connection. You care passionately.

Very few writing craft books talk about intimacy, but The Emotional Craft of Fiction by Donald Maass shares thoughts on the subject I find useful to help writers create better stories.

“For characters’ hearts to be open to readers, characters must talk to us quite a bit about what’s going on inside. In many manuscripts, the characters don’t disclose much. Often they, or rather their authors, simply report what’s happening to them—a dry, play-by-play conveyance of the action.”

Maass points out that plot-driven writers (and most of us are plot-driven to an extent) may fear slowing the action. Or we fear gushing on the page, or boring readers. Here’s what he says to that:

“Creating a world that is emotionally involving for readers means raising questions and concerns about the world.”

I agree. Writers:  know WHY your character can go deep with something, then illustrate it.

Intimacy helps humans (and characters) feel “whole” and human.

Intimacy pulls in readers because we find emotional impact memorable. It sells. After watching a good movie or reading a great novel we often say, “It took me a while to recover. I was so involved. I sank into the story. I felt so many emotions.” We liked that feeling of intimacy; a bond was formed, a bond we did not expect. Fiction came alive for us.

Here are 5 ways (out of many more) to create intimacy and bonds: 

— Create or reshape a character with trouble and yearnings they share with another character, even the antagonist. Is it their secret? Even better. Readers love secrets and surprising bonds.

— Improve the intimacy potential by having your character confess to mistakes, past or present.  We all make mistakes; readers enjoy witnessing how your characters handle mistakes. 

— Sometimes “easy” tools or devices provide intimacy. Add a diary or journal or a continuing conversation with a character such as a grandmother or ghost from the past (depending on your genre). Think “opposites,” too. Example:  Have your antagonist thug share meals with a surprising character at least twice. How about the local librarian? How is the thug different in that situation? What does the thug reveal only to this librarian? (Try the same exercise with your protagonist.)

— Add a pet or animal aspect. Readers love intimate moments animals create with people. That intimacy can reveal love, kindness, different skills, memories, or a flaw or regret. What might your character confess to the animal? If animals don’t fit your plot, what about plants or anything else you prefer? 

— Use “place.” Emotions about a place are shared universally around the world. We feel deeply about the land of our birth, or an old house, or a river or mountain, etc. The history and characteristics of place breathe intimacy into a story. How does your character interact with the environment, with nature?

Go deeper than you have thus far in your writing.

Intimacy means there’s a relationship of some kind, and that’s precious fuel for action and reaction.

Intimacy results in great storytelling. 

If you can’t put your finger on why your material isn’t working for readers—including agents, publishers, or producers—consider building better relationships with readers via relationship techniques on your pages.

I’m suggesting a technique that goes deeper than a mere “hook.”

A relationship is defined as a connection, association, or involvement. That can be with any “thing” or person.

The relationship might be a dependence, an alliance, or kinship or something that is the opposite. It captured your attention.

A relationship matters deeply EMOTIONALLY somehow. It speaks to our heart, our intellect, our experiences.

Readers want a relationship with your words. They want to feel.

On page one or two, bring your READER into a kinship or alliance with your character (or other being or entity, depending on story).

How do you do that?

Marry emotions and thoughts WITH action when you can (current or remembered action).

Reveal with few words WHY the character is acting or feeling something.

Choices abound as to how you create an instant relationship on pages one or two or anywhere in your material. If your book or script starts out well but you’re told it fizzles in its second half, then fire up better relationship material.

Here are categories of things humans have relationships with:

• People
• Place (any planet/home/space etc.)
• Weather
• Pets
• Nature (animals, plants, microbes etc.)
• Job
• Hobby
• Art
• An object
• Time
• Special dates
• Religion
• Organizations

Relationship material might come from backstory. Don’t be afraid to mine it on any page including page one. Get the big emotional intrigue in there fast. (There are no rules, so if you’ve been told repeatedly backstory has to wait until later, now make your own rule. Teasing something or flirting with it is part of building a solid hook relationship!)

In any of those categories listed, what worries your character? Mention it on pages 1, 2, and 5 or pages of your choosing. Sharing worries is one of the quickest ways to establish a relationship.

Was your character ever embarrassed by something? Or are they afraid something from their past has now come back to haunt them? Put it on page one. It will resonate.

Relationship information gives readers PROOF your character is somebody worthy of a connection.  

Be careful your character isn’t merely moaning about things without much reason. Readers don’t like trite reasoning or whiners, but through any number of techniques whining, too, can be elevated to work well to kick off a book. Sometimes whining is comical.

Confessions are another relationship-building technique with readers. “The day I made the biggest mistake of my life with…” is a beginning sure to make us read on. We’ve all made some mistake or we fear making mistakes. When we IDENTIFY with the mistake, you’ve created a relationship with readers.

What would help readers identify with your characters and stick with them after page one?

For examples of “relationship building” on early pages, study openers of major award-winning or talked-about novels, screenplays, and memoirs. Study the emotional resonance. Is it a word or phrase? An action or reaction? A piece of information? Notice the “feeling” you get. Why are readers drawn to the words?

Your writing will be rewarded by readers when you take the time to build RELATIONSHIPS via your words. 

In Barbara Kingsolver’s award-winning Demon Copperfield the character tells us his regrets immediately, including being born under the caul. As the novel moves along, the boy expresses other regrets.

In Richard Osman’s popular mystery, The Thursday Murder Club, residents at a retirement village and a police officer let readers into their minds and hearts by revealing their regrets in life.

In both cases, without us knowing the characters’ regrets those novels would feel hollow or thin. The plots would have sagged. Regrets are the impetus for CHANGE and ACTION in those characters’ lives.

For a motion picture example, consider The Wizard of Oz starring Judy Garland. After Dorothy lands in Oz, she has many regrets along the way about things she’s said and done that may have harmed others in Oz or back home. Without her regrets, the storyline would lack potency.

Humans often have regrets. A talented writer brings those experiences into the storytelling.

What do your characters regret? Why?

In my Fudge Shop Mystery Series the character of Ava Oosterling has many regrets—failing a job, experiencing a one-month marriage, and living far away from her best friend and family in Door County, Wisconsin, for ten years. She regrets her impulsive nature bringing trouble. She’s a character always in search of her true and better self.

Is a “wistful regret” the same as the “oh-woe-is-me” pity party? No! A meaningful regret is instead an excellent backstory element. A wistful regret is connected solidly to the changes your character needs to make.

A “wistful regret” is not always based on mistakes. It can be about remembering a missed opportunity long ago or yesterday.

What matters is the regret fuels change NOW in your story. Being “wistful” is not so much melancholy as a yearning to do better and acting on that feeling. Being wistful means wishing.

A regret means the character acknowledges a mistake, or an embarrassment, or a road not taken. A regret can be funny or sad, happy or tragic. It’s your call.

The “wistful regret” is powerful, weighty stuff, and wears on a character; it may take a few chapters or scenes to be acted upon or resolved.

Wistful regrets create the spark for a character’s energy that enables meaningful change through actions or otherwise. That change in turn creates an effective story.

For deeper characterizations, regrets should plague your protagonist (and/or antagonist) at least a little bit. Mentioning the regret only once in a 300-page manuscript usually isn’t enough. Try the “Rule of 3” for places the regret can show up and help fuel decisions and action.  A “Midpoint Crisis” is a good place to consider bringing up regrets.

If your storytelling isn’t catching fire with readers such as critique partners or agents or producers, try infusing your opening pages with a “wistful regret.”

You won’t regret it.