You've Lost That Lovin Feeling

[Magicman]

You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips
And there's no tenderness like before in your fingertips
You're trying hard not to show it
But baby, baby I know it

You lost that lovin' feelin'
Whoa, that lovin' feelin'
You lost that lovin' feelin'
Now it's gone, gone, gone, woh

Now there's no welcome look in your eyes when I reach for you
And now you're starting to criticize little things I do
It makes me just feel like crying
'Cause baby, something beautiful's dyin'



The lyrics to this Everly Brother’s song resonate with the audience. Why?

You know the answer --- In case where you don’t - they were branded into the author’s memory. Why?

You know this as well – the feeling was intense. Why?

Now it gets tougher! Why did this feeling linger? That’s a good question. If we knew the answer, we’d feel good all the time. Wouldn’t we?

Mother nature, for lack of another term to describe how the mind functions to ensure we survive, cleans the slate faster then a professor’s brush erases that all important information from the blackboard. We don’t remember the feelings.

Now to the point of the post – as writers, we need to dig like it was the third day in the desert and you’ve found an oasis, but the water is gone. Dig until your fingers are raw or die. That water is there – those feelings are there.

Feelings that you want to put to paper have been carefully stashed by mother nature, hidden away, faded from memory, until they are once again required. You know what those feelings are, but can you feel them? You can describe them on a superficial level - that twisting in the abdomen, those short jabs of pain, that signal - you need food. But to put that to paper with intensity – to make others feel – go beyond understanding and feel that feeling – you need to dig for it, feel it yourself.

In the lyrics, the second line is what hits home. It describes an action, not a feeling. It plunges the shovel deep and exposes that glistening sand, that life blood. It exposes the action that is connected to the feeling, the trigger for mother nature to open the barriers, to let the emotions go into high gear.

The third line is an assumption – no matter how correct it may be, it pumps the gas and has the emotions racing. Writers can use assumption to their benefit – to make the feeling feel real. Who cares if the assumption is correct at that moment? The reader does – and – down the road, assumptions can be proven right or wrong to enhance the reader’s stock. Get that reader to buy into reading forward.

You know the quote “time heals all wounds”. That’s what I’m talking about. Don’t let those faded memories of the real feelings remain buried when you try to present them in your novel.

What kind of tool can be used to find that feeling? Like in the song – start by remembering the actions that led up to the feeling. The actions will nudge the emotions out of their deep sleep, get them stretching, rubbing their eyes and moving away from that cozy warm resting place, only to stub their toe and explode in your mind. That’s when you will know what action to put to words to push the feeling over the edge and have the reader plummet with you to ….

Am I right or am I wrong?

 

[Katie-Ellen]

Of course you're right. There is no arguing with feelings.

 

[Paul Whybrow]

I admire writing where the characters share their feelings. It needn't be done over many lines, as sometimes a throwaway comment carries mighty weight. To give a character an internal life, whether it's done in a poem, song lyric or prose requires courage from the writer. That they've shared their braveness with me honours me, and the respect is returned, as I seek out more of their writing. I get irritated by authors who hold me at arm's length by penning two dimensional characters who have all of the depth and clarity of a muddy puddle!

 

[Patricia D]

I love this song. But it was the Righteous Brothers. Their voices have something to do with the emotional impact. Soul singing, baby!

 

[Patricia D]

The Thrill is Gone is another outstanding example. It was the ringtone a colleague used for her husband's calls. Really. I was surprised. A few months later when they separated, I wasn't surprised at all. I keep wondering if enough time has passed for me to use it in a story.

 

[Patricia D]

@Magicman We've really not wandered very far from your original post. Words evoke emotion, and so do voices. Writers have voices, and stories have rhythm - at least the good ones.

 

[Magicman]

Me bad.

I did not mention music as a motivator, the tool to bring the emotions to the surface when you are buried in words that do not move you.

Never let the music die...

 

[G L Sheridan]

That song always makes me sad when I hear it, so the lyrics clearly work well.