Empathy is a powerful tool, and sharp—be careful how you use it

One adjective that’s used about my fiction more and more frequently is immersive.1 Reader immersion is my joy and my job—I’m very good at it. This applies to all my work, not just the historical novels such as Hild, Spear, and Menewood.

I used to teach a 6-hour workshop on how to do it. Then I wrote my PhD thesis on it. But for those who would rather dip your toes in before you plunge, I’ve distilled my thoughts to a 1,000-word craft article for LitHub.2 When and if you do find yourself ready to plunge, go read Norming the Other: Narrative Empathy Via Focalised Heterotopia.

Conversely, if you want a super sharp jolt, just go read my Writer’s Manifesto.

Enjoy!

Nicola Griffith on Writing Immersive Historical Fiction

1 Other popular terms are beautiful, brutal, lyrical, magical, intelligent, and brilliant. The genre doesn’t seem to matter.

2 Given the strict word limit, I think it’s possible that some readers who aren’t familiar with my work might be tempted to misread my warning—about handling negative experience carefully—as an exhortation to never do bad things to one’s characters. (If you’ve read any of my novels you know plenty of people get hurt.) That is absolutely not what I’m saying. I’m saying don’t rub your reader’s nose in your character’s physical torment—that’s just torture porn, and your reader will slam down their barriers so hard you’ll never get their empathy again.