Last
weekend, after the kids were snuggled in their beds, my husband and I settled
down to watch Titanic. I was a sophomore in high school when the movie first
came out and I watched it several times as a sixteen-year-old, completely
engrossed in Jack and Rose's love story.
Last
Saturday night, when I made the suggestion to dear hubby that we watch the
movie, I looked forward to reliving the romance and adventure.
But I
was in for a surprise. One scene (really a snip of a scene) shook me to the
core and had tears pouring down my cheeks. And strangely enough, it had nothing
to do with Jack and Rose. In fact, I had barely noticed the scene when watching
Titanic as a starry-eyed teenager. So why the emotions? Twelve years later, I
am a different person. I brought something different to this story: my
experience of motherhood.
The
scene that grabbed my thoughts wasn't the one I latched onto years earlier—that
of Rose releasing Jack to the cold ocean depths at the end of the movie. I was
prepared for that. I knew the inevitable. Rather, the scene that took me by
surprise was of an underprivileged mother and her two children. They'd been
locked beneath the ship to die. Water pooled around them. The mother leaned
over her little ones cuddled on a bottom bunk, stroked their foreheads, and
told them a story. Calmly. As if this night were like all the others.
The
scene was but five seconds, but it tugged at my heartstrings in a deeply
personal way and sent my imagination flying. How would I react in such a
circumstance? Could I be so brave? What stories would I tell my children? What
sweet words of Jesus would I whisper in their little ears?
And why
did the scene barely impact me all those times I'd seen it years earlier? Had
my heart been cold? Did I not value children?
I don't
think any of these were the case. In fact, it was what I now brought with me to
the story. My children are the same age as those in the movie. I could relate
to this poor mother's predicament in a way I couldn't as a sophomore in high
school.
A good
story is one that evokes emotion from a reader. A skilled author creates
characters and situations that draw on our own emotional experiences. Love,
protection, fear, hopelessness. We all know these feelings. It's a writer's job
to tap into them, and it’s a writer’s job to know the audience they are writing
for so that they can accomplish this well.
How do you go about relating to your audience in your stories?
Heidi Chiavaroli is a writer, runner, wife, mother, and grace-clinger—not necessarily in that order. Ever since taking her first trip to Plimoth Plantation with her sister, mother, and grandmother at the age of nine, she has been fascinated with history and its significance to today’s people and culture. Heidi is the winner of ACFW’s 2014 Genesis Contest, Historical Category. She lives in Massachusetts with her husband, two sons, and Howie, her standard poodle. Learn more about Heidi on her website: www.heidichiavaroli.com.
Heidi will join us on the third Thursday each month.