Wednesday, September 4, 2024

The Power of Power Words To Connect Writers with Readers


by Sarah Sally Hamer @SarahSallyHamer

Power words are, well, powerful! Evocative words tighten and enhance the theme of a story, enticing the reader to turn the page. But how do we choose our power words? And how can we insert them in the right places?

We have many really good examples of stories that are wrapped around a theme and use power words to boost the “flavor” of the story. Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre, written by the Bronte sisters, for instance, are great cases in point of using weather and creepy houses and stormy relationships as a part of the setting. Try to imagine another classic, Gone With the Wind, set in any place except the Deep South. The heat by itself is almost another character, much less words like “survival” and “hunger” and “desire.”

We can use power words to describe other things than setting. Each character will need their own words to help readers distinguish between them (especially with secondary characters) and to deepen the understanding of their goals, motivations, and conflicts. 

Can you describe Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz? Her power words go hand in hand with her character traits. She’s unhappy, naïve, and frightened when the story starts, but we watch the power words change as she travels her character arc path. She really is courageous to follow that yellow brick road, and to brave the Cowardly Lion when he jumps out of the bushes. She’s honest with herself and others about her real wants and needs, once she figures them out. And, she’s loyal, both to the allies she picks up on the way and to Toto, who is the pivotal character of the whole story. Every one of her attributes give us a chance to expand on her power words, giving her depth and making her real.

Here are a few tips to help you use power words:
  • 1. Determine your genre and theme, then create a list of power words that might apply.
  • 2. Do the same with at least the major characters using their character traits.
  • 3. Sprinkle the words throughout the story, using them only where they’ll make an impact. Make them work for their places!
  • 4. Try to place power words at the end of a sentence, paragraph, and/or a scene. Their effect grows exponentially when they’re not hidden in the middle of a sentence. 

Just be careful not to overdo. As with any tool in your writer’s toolbox, we can overwhelm the reader with so many powerful words that they can have trouble catching their breath. Genre makes a huge difference in the choice of power word. Action/adventure stories, for example, may need stronger words, while romances may do better with softer, more sensual words.

So, find the words that work for you, for your genre, for your story, and for your characters. You’ll be amazed at how much of a difference they can make.

Here’s a prologue from my WIP, a fantasy romance. See how many power words you can find. I’ll put my interpretation into the comments and we can compare:

I woke as I usually did from the dream: my face and pillow soaked with my tears, my fingers bleeding from the bite of my teeth to force my silence, to keep Madame from sweeping into the harem to punish the noise maker, the one who has awoken the room with her cries of despair.

The dream is always the same. And, once again, I wondered. Was the dream just that—a dream of happiness and innocence never to be found again? Or was it a true memory of the place from which I’d been stolen? For I knew that I had not been born here as the other girls had.

I have memories of trees that are not carefully trimmed so as to not outgrow the small enclosure, of birds that flew high in the sky instead of being locked in a cage with bars similar to the ones that blocked our windows. I know I have seen the sun turn the sky pink and golden with its dawning and the moon rise round and orange like a ball from the place where the earth meets the sky. None of these things can be seen from the tiny garden where a fountain trickles an eternal stream of water or from the barred windows that face it.

The others think I dream of these things: the sun rising and the birds flying high and that is why I cry out in the night—that the bad genies pour these thoughts into my head like a pitcher pours water into a basin because it isn’t possible that these things exist. But I know better, at least in the darkness of the night when I, once again, find myself weeping into the pillow of my sleeping mat.

I don’t dream of places and things. I dream of my home and my family.

I dream of the night my life was shattered forever.

What power words do you use? Why?

TWEETABLE

Sarah (Sally) Hamer, B.S., MLA, is a lover of books, a teacher of writers, and a believer in a good story. Most of all, she is eternally fascinated by people and how they 'tick'. She’s passionate about helping people tell their own stories and has won awards at both local and national levels, including two Golden Heart finals.

A teacher of memoir, beginning and advanced creative fiction writing, and screenwriting at Louisiana State University in Shreveport for over twenty years, she also teaches online for Margie Lawson at www.margielawson.com. Sally is a free-lance editor and book coach, with many of her students and clients becoming successful, award-winning authors. 

You can find her at info@mindpotential.org

3 comments:

  1. The words that jump out at me are the contrasts: blocked, locked, punish, bars, etc. versus innocence, dawning, flying, rising.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Yes! Exactly! The contrasts make an ebb and flow throughout. Great job! Sally

    ReplyDelete
  3. Here are the power words I chose:
    Power words work differently for different people – something I think is "powerful" may not be for you. These are the ones I chose on purpose:

    I woke as I usually did from the dream: my face and pillow soaked with my tears, my fingers bleeding from the bite of my teeth to force my silence, to keep Madame from sweeping into the harem to punish the noise maker, the one who has awoken the room with her cries of despair.

    The dream is always the same. And, once again, I wondered. Was the dream just that—a dream of happiness and innocence never to be found again? Or was it a true memory of the place from which I’d been stolen? For I knew that I had not been born here as the other girls had.

    I have memories of trees that are not carefully trimmed so as to not outgrow the small enclosure, of birds that flew high in the sky instead of being locked in a cage with bars similar to the ones that blocked our windows. I know I have seen the sun turn the sky pink and golden with its dawning and the moon rise round and orange like a ball from the place where the earth meets the sky. None of these things can be seen from the tiny garden where a fountain trickles an eternal stream of water or from the barred windows that face it.

    The others think I dream of these things: the sun rising and the birds flying high and that is why I cry out in the night—that the bad genies pour these thoughts into my head like a pitcher pours water into a basin because it isn’t possible that these things exist. But I know better, at least in the darkness of the night when I, once again, find myself weeping into the pillow of my sleeping mat.

    I don’t dream of places and things. I dream of my home and my family.

    I dream of the night my life was shattered forever.

    ReplyDelete