Roseanna M. White is a bestselling, Christy Award nominated author who has long claimed that words are the air she breathes. When not writing fiction, she’s homeschooling her two kids, editing, designing book covers, and pretending her house will clean itself. Roseanna is the author of a slew of historical novels that span several continents and thousands of years. Spies and war and mayhem always seem to find their way into her books…to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary. You can learn more about her and her stories at www.RoseannaMWhite.com.

It’s something we can all relate to, I think—that desire to write a book that really resonates. That hits people in the heart, in the gut, all the way down to their bones. Even if we’re writing something light and funny, we want it to ring true. We want it to stick in people’s minds long after they turn the last page. Sure, that means awesome characters and a gripping plot…but it’s more than that, right? A book will resonate with someone only when they recognize something in it…perhaps something they’ve never been able to put words to. A joy or a pain or a hope or a fear.

People read books of all kinds. But people fall in love with books that have depth. Again, they can still be light and fun and entertaining—but they’ll have layers. They’ll have insight. They’ll have something beneath the surface.

So…how do we write those types of books?

1. Read Deeply

What do I mean by that? Well, it may sound a bit too much like school at first, but bear with me. When we’re reading, we need to be looking for more than an hour or two’s escape from the world. We need to be searching for what touches us. We need to be trying to identify with characters. We need to be examining their motives.

A great way to do this is to read in a community, even if it’s just with one friend. Read the same book at the same time (or similar time), and talk about it. This could be like a book club, or it could just be two friends sending text messages or Hangout chats, going, “Whoa, did you get to chapter 20 yet? I didn’t see that coming!” This doesn’t have to be a writing friend, who’s going to be examining plot structure and writing techniques with you—you can do that too, of course, but it’s a different kind of study than what I’m talking about. I’m talking about peeling back the layers of a book and getting at its heart—so that you can understand why it’s touching yours.

Of course, there are going to be times when you try to do that and just get frustrated with the story, unfortunately. Not every book out there has a ton of layers, and sometimes the characters’ motivations are weak, and we all know how annoying contrived conflict is. This process doesn’t work for everything—and to be perfectly honest, I don’t read everything this way. But one or two books each month, I’ll try to take this sort of time with.

Dwell with it for a while. Think about it when you’re not actively reading it. Ask the hard questions. If it was written a hundred years ago, ask what social expectations were different then and how it’s obvious in the story—or how the story helped change those expectations. If it’s a story of adventure, ask what makes the hero worthy of the name, able to undertake it. If it’s a drama, ask yourself how you would react if you lost it all like they did. If it’s a comedy, ask why that wit makes you both laugh and think.

Reading deeply is the first step here because it’s bite-sized, and you can do it experimentally. But ideally, it’s going to lead you straight to #2.

2. Live Deeply

Things happen. We have emotional reactions to them. This is universal. But then what?

All too often, people just decide that because they feel it, it must be true. And if it’s true, then you just go with it, right? You act on it. You don’t even have to think about it.

But here’s the thing: our emotions are not enough. Why? Because they change. It’s right there in the word—e-motion. They move. This is easy enough to realize if you just look at your own reactions to things when you’re tired versus well rested.

If we want to write deep books, it’s going to require deep characters—characters who don’t just react on emotion without ever thinking it through (or at least not always). They have to consider things. They have to have real motivation.

And how can we write it if we don’t live it?

The secret to depth in books is really to invite depth into your own life. Be self-aware. Be thoughtful. Literally take time each day to ask yourself why you reacted as you did to things, and why you think others did too. Try to guess at how they might respond to other situations. Think through the situations you find yourself in, and—here’s an enlightening exercise—ask yourself if you’re being the villain in someone else’s story with your stance. Then ask what it would take to be their hero instead. Ask how, at the very least, you can be a surprise benefactor to them, or a wise counselor, or some other good character trope.

Stephanie talked a few months ago about how we get to decide what story our lives will tell in difficult times—and that’s exactly what living deeply is all about. Make a practice of this, and it will begin shaping your whole life. Your character, your heart, your mind. And of course, your writing.

3. Write Deeply

So now it’s time to take the lessons you’ve learned from reading and living and apply it to your writing. You’ve learned to dig deep in your search for motivations, to ask questions about why people (yourself included) do what they do. When you sit down with your characters, do the same thing.

Sometimes when I’m writing, I literally pause and think, “Man, I’m spending an awful lot of time in their head before I even tell what their response is. Should I hurry it along?” But I don’t, generally speaking. Because I want my readers to really know the character. I want them to understand what makes them tick, which means I need to explore that. I want the readers to feel what my character is feeling…but just like in life, we can’t really know unless we actually look beyond the emotion itself. It isn’t enough to say they’re angry if you don’t know why. This is another instance of “dwell there.” Spend the time in your character’s head.

Invite the reader into their very soul, not just their senses. We don’t just want to see what they’re doing. We want to truly experience it with them.

Now, of course, your characters themselves may not know why they’re reacting as they are—but the learning should be part of their journey. And exploring it along with them is what makes that character leap off the page and into the heart of your readers—because that’s a journey we’re all on.

Studies show that fiction readers are, on the whole, far more empathetic in real life because they have practice. (How awesome is that??) We give them that practice by letting our characters be vulnerable with themselves, and hence with the reader sharing their head. Your hero may hold back from the other characters—but they should not hold back from the reader.

My husband’s favorite insight lately is “Know your why.” If you know why you’re doing something, why you want something, why you feel something, then it helps you live that story better. Do your characters know their why? How can figuring it out be part of their story arc?

Strange as it may sound to the uninitiated, writing deeply, as you can see, is actually a way of life. It’s a way you approach everything—the books you read, the TV you watch, the story you live…and of course, the stories you write. Because that last part, my friends, is how we share with the rest of the world. It’s how we take the lessons we’ve learned and, not just know them, but give them to others. All wrapped, of course, in beautiful words, heart-pumping action, and characters the reader will want to call friends.

Ask the questions. Know the why. And then, go forth and write (deeply).