This is a post about chicken fingers.
No, really.
Okay, not really. But close. See, when I was in Colorado Springs for PPWC, I was exhausted on Thursday night. My eyes hurt, and my throbbing head was full of pitch advice. So, I curled up in the hotel bed and watched television, something I don’t actually do very often.
I caught an episode of Community. It was about chicken fingers.
I need to preface this by saying I’m a bit of a health nut. That doesn’t mean I don’t indulge in pizza every now and then, but by and large, I pay attention to what goes into my body. But by the end of this Community episode, I wanted chicken fingers in the worst way. Breaded, fried, dipped in ranch dressing.
Was it because the show was practically spliced with photos of chicken fingers every few frames? Was it seeing those tender poultry bits stacked like gold coins?
No. It was all in the characters. The main characters started a racket to contend with the shortage of chicken fingers on their school campus. Students lined up with ravenous, saliva-drenched expressions, desperate for a piece of that deep-fried poultry action.
I craved chicken fingers for days. And no matter how silly this example might be, my point is this: it’s how you “show” in fiction. Make the reader (or viewer, in this case) believe the characters want something so badly they’re willing to manipulate, lie, throw others under the bus. Make us believe they might do something drastic to achieve their goals. Make us feel what they feel, not through description alone, but through emotion. Preferably conflicting emotion (in this case, the desire for power– or chicken fingers– vs. the deterioration of their social group).
If your characters are willing to throw the planet out of orbit for a platter of chicken tenders, even your health-nut readers will drool on the page.
