Do You Want To Write Netflix-Worthy Books? Try Doing This.

Have you ever read a book and thought, “It’s like the author didn’t just write this - it’s as if they were there.”

A dark room with a television showing the Netflix name in red, with red backlighting behind the tv

I have. When I first read Diana Gabaldon’s book Outlander I was blown away. I started to wonder if she’d stumbled into a circle of time-crossing standing stones somewhere in Scotland that had swept her back into the 1700’s. Her story felt so realistic, I harbored the suspicion it wasn’t fiction, but something that actually happened to her. Something she later wrote about and passed off as a fiction.

Of course, I now know she didn’t go back in time and have a wild, passionate affair with the handsome Jamie Fraser. But the magic in her writing made me believe it was possible.

What did she do that was so right? You’re about to find out, but you might want to sit down since we are going to venture into how each of us experience reality and how we as writers can use that knowledge to our writerly advantage like Diana Gabaldon does.

In a Google Talk, the philosopher John Searle outlined the two fundamental philosophical principles of consciousness: epistemology (a reality defined by knowledge) and ontology (a reality defined by existence/experience) further defined by being either subjective or objective - and how this affects our experience of reality (and life). 

Bear with me while I take it down to where it becomes applicable to those of us who write because there is great value in knowing this - especially if you want to create books that have what it takes to win awards and attract major media outlets.*

Here’s where these things get interesting if you are a writer. You want your writing to spend a lot of time in the area of ontological subjectivity and apart from using some epistemic objectivity to set the scene and ground your reader with the facts of their environment, the rest of your story needs to be resting on your characters’ subjective experiences

The only person who can write the book is you, and only you can create the subjective experience of each character that translates into a subjective experience for your reader. This means if you are going to write a book where there is a car accident experienced by the main character, I don’t suggest you go and get yourself into a car wreck if you have never personally experienced one, but if you want to write in a way that convinces your reader that they are experiencing what your character is experiencing as real, you need to know how to write that experience so your reader feels it subjectively. As though it were happening to them.

You can watch documentaries, read articles, or talk with people who have been in a car accident. Ask them about the emotions they felt - because while pain can be described well enough with a decent imagination and some research - raw emotions are a thoroughly subjective experience, meaning it is only real for the person experiencing that event. 

Anyone who was not in the car wreck will have no idea what each survivor went through, and if you were to talk to several people, you will discover that even though what is being discussed is a car accident, (epistemic objectivity), the overlying aspect of ontological subjectivity means that each survivor will experience that same car accident differently to the person beside them.

We see this phenomenon when there is a vehicle accident involving many passengers, such as a train crash. In accident reports, passengers recall their experience. What the reports revealed was how many recollections did not agree. This is because the experience of surviving the same accident is subjective to each person based on their experience of reality. 

When was the last time you had an argument with someone you are close to about a conversation you’ve had that you are sure went one way and they are sure went another way entirely?

Maddening, isn’t it?

That’s ontological subjectivity. And that’s the gold you want to mine as you write your characters through the story.

So, armed with your exploration of the subjective experiences of people (as well as your own), you can reflect on who your character is and imagine how they would react subjectively to what you are doing to them - which will make what is being experienced by your character “feel real” to your readers.

Why? Because you precisely described the car accident with every flip, impact, and crunch of metal? No. Because you took the reader through a first-hand experience of being in a car accident through the subjective experience of your character that readers can experience as happening to them and believe is true.

If you want your book to have depth and resonance with your readers, it’s important to understand the experience of consciousness, and how to use it to bring your character to life and create believable experiences your readers will invest in.

By understanding how your characters will subjectively experience what you are putting them through, (by focusing on what motivates them, what they fear, and what they long for, and just how far they will go to achieve their goals), you will have a blueprint to create authentic, believable scenes and experiences that will have your readers wondering if your story is actually real and not just fiction.

Ps. Many readers were convinced I had gone back in a time machine to write The Lost Valor of Love, they found it so realistic. Sadly, I have never been in a time machine, but there is no doubt that writing a book is the next best thing (so long as you stay in the subjective reality of your characters!).

If you’d like to develop your voice, create unforgettable characters, craft page-turning tension, or polish your story to a shine, E A Carter is here to help!

* In 2018, Alibaba contacted my agent at Wattpad HQ (where The Lost Valor of Love was originally published) to secure 5 years of exclusive audio rights to my book to create a full-cast serialized dramatization in English and Chinese. Sadly, the deal fell through at the 11th hour.