Let's cut the fluff: there's precious little empathy in writing these days. Most content out there is forgettable because it reads like a robot wrote it after too much coffee and zero life experience.
People skim, shrug, and scroll on.
But when you inject real empathy and relatability, those same words stop being noise and start lodging in someone's head like that one song you hate but can't unhear. The trick isn't crying on the page—it's making readers think, "Dang, this person gets it," without turning into a walking Hallmark card.
Creating Empathy in Writing
Audience empathy in writing means actually understanding your audience's mess: their frustrations, second guesses, quiet panics, small wins that feel huge.
Relatability follows when you mirror those feelings back in language that doesn't sound like corporate training wheels. Skip the vague "we know times are tough" nonsense. Instead, nail the personal details that make someone involuntarily nod. The real power comes from storytelling frameworks that force structure on your empathy.
They keep you from rambling while ensuring the emotional punch lands.
Storytelling Frameworks
The Hero's Journey
Start with the Hero's Journey—yes, the Joseph Campbell classic that's been repackaged for marketing since forever.
Position your reader as the hero, stuck in their ordinary world (bills piling up, inbox zero is a myth, boss is clueless). You don't play the savior; you're the guide who shows up with the map. Show the trials (failed attempts, self-doubt, late nights), the mentor's wisdom (your insights, tools, or product), and the transformation (they win, feel competent, maybe even crack a smile).
Done right, it's not cheesy. It's satisfying because it mirrors real life.
Brands use this constantly: a SaaS company doesn't sell features; they show a harried founder going from chaos to control. Readers see themselves, feel seen, and suddenly trust you more than the competition's bullet-point brag sheet.
Pixar's Story Spine
Then there's Pixar's Story Spine, the deceptively simple backbone behind every tearjerker they've made.
It goes:
- Once upon a time there was ___.
- Every day, ___. One day ___.
- Because of that, ___.
- Because of that, ___.
- Until finally ___.
- And ever since that day ___.
Plug in your reader's reality:
Once upon a time there was a small business owner juggling everything. Every day, they fought fires and prayed the website didn't crash. One day, a viral post tanked their traffic. Because of that, revenue dipped. Because of that, panic set in. Until finally, they tried your strategy. And ever since that day, they sleep without checking analytics at 3 a.m.
The chain of "because of that" builds tension naturally, making the resolution feel earned. It's empathetic because it respects the reader's struggle instead of glossing over it.
Make the Narrative Personal
Combine these with raw techniques: use "you" language that calls out exact pain points ("You know that moment when your best idea gets buried under 47 unread emails?").
- Show vulnerability—admit when you've screwed up too.
- Avoid melodrama; understatement hits harder. A line like "Growth isn't sexy when you're the one paying the late fees" lands better than any inspirational quote. Why bother? Because dry facts inform, but emotional resonance converts. Readers remember how you made them feel—understood, less alone, maybe even hopeful. In a sea of AI slop, that human spark is your unfair advantage.
- Nail the empathy, wrap it in a solid framework, and your words don't just inform—they stick.
People come back, share, buy.
Why It Works
Not because you sold them something, but because, for once, the internet didn't feel like it was talking at them.
It sounds simple.
It's not.
Most writers bail at the first honest draft. But the ones who push through?
They turn words into impressions that last way past the scroll.