Beyond the Fourth Wall
July 9th, 2007 by Therese Walsh
This from the BBC News Entertainment Section:
Author JK Rowling has said she felt euphoric but “devastated” as she penned the last words of the final Harry Potter book, The Deathly Hallows.Speaking on Jonathan Ross’ chat show, she said: “When I finished one chapter near the end I absolutely howled.” …
She was in a hotel room alone as she finished writing the book.
“I was sobbing my heart out, I downed half a bottle of champagne from the mini bar in one and went home with mascara all over my face, that was really tough,” she said.
The fourth wall is considered, in theatrical terms, to be “the imaginary wall between the stage and the audience.” It is the box, tipped, so that all can see what is happening in that world. We, as writers, have to enter that box, though. But how far do you go? How invested do you become in your characters and your created world?
I’ve had similar moments to the one JK Rowling describes above, when I feel devastated by something I’ve made happen inside that box, when I just can’t seem to place my own feelings on the other side of that fourth wall. Characters are treated brutally. Characters die. They say things to one another that make you–even as you’re typing out the words–feel a tightening of skin and a flood of warmth, of truth, that make you wonder, “Where did that come from?”
It’s hard going beyond the fourth wall, it takes a toll, but I think being emotionally entangled in our characters’ lives might result in a more authentic telling.
How ’bout you?
Write on, all!
I wrote a scene like that recently. An interesting thing I noted was… the character was torn between two emotions. They wanted to enjoy and feel one emotion but was forced to deal with a situation that interrupted how they wanted to feel, and forced them to feel a much more heart-wrenching thing.
I may try to intentionally do that more. Wants to feel vs. interruption feeling.
A lot in the first section of my book when I was writing about my mother’s abusive childhood.
I’d heard about it for years, but I was too busy nursing my own wounds to think about her pain.
It wasn’t until I took myself into her world and tried to see ‘her side of the story’ and describe how that must have felt that I began to understood her.
Yes, I’ve sat writing with tears dripping off my cheeks many times.