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Writing with Good Senses

Since many of the latest posts have been about the business side of writing, I am going to concentrate on the craft side of writing during my visit here. We have five days. We have five senses; therefore, I will take a different sense every day.

Today, let’s talk about visual detail. This one nearly everyone gets right. We live in a visually sensory world, where everything from advertisements to the plate of food we are served at a restaurant are arranged to appeal to the eye. In writing, we want our readers to visualize the scene playing out, be able to play it in their heads like a movie unfolding on the screen. Chances are, superimposed over the computer screen or paper full of words before you, you see your characters running or sleeping; hiding or strolling through the grass; swimming or… You get the idea. But how do you convey these images to the reader without bogging them down with detail?

Spread out the descriptions. This is so basic you’d think everyone would get it. They don’t. From the local paper to bestselling novels, to manuscripts I judge in contests, I find paragraphs describing a place or event in detail. I don’t want to give a negative example of something others might recognize, so I’m making something up. It’s awful, and it’s a fair representation of what is out there.

He drove up to the house. It was big and green with gambrel windows above and picture windows below. A sidewalk bisected the front lawn, leading to a stoop.

A child sat on that stoop. She was as small as the house was big with blond pigtails and bare feet.

He got out of the car and slammed the door. “Hi,” he said to the child.

“You did come.” She bounded off the step and ran down the sidewalk.

What’s the focal point here? The house or the child or the man or the car? That depends on the story. We’ll focus on the man and child. So let’s focus on visualizing them.

He spotted the green house and parked the car in front. Sunlight reflected off the windows, blinding him, and for a moment, he didn’t see the child sitting on the front steps until she stood, shoving her bare feet into flip-flops.

“Hi.” He climbed from the car and slammed the door.

She raced down the sidewalk to the street, blond pigtails flying. “You came.”

Although setting details are minimal, the reader gains the impression it’s the only green house, a sidewalk from steps to street implies lawn or some yard, so we can presume town or suburbia or city neighborhood. It’s a house, not an apartment building or school. He’s in a car, so it’s contemporary—probably. Enough detail sprinkled throughout the narrative to let the reader visualize the setting.

Likewise, we sprinkle details about the child through the mix. She rises and puts on flip-flops. She runs and her pigtails fly. Youngish child. Excited child.

Sprinkled is the operative word. Spread your visual details out. Blend them with the action to keep the sense of sight flowing, which keeps the story moving.

Award-winning author Laurie Alice Eakes doesn’t remember a time when she wasn’t making up stories in her head. One day she started putting them down on paper. Lots of practice, a degree in English from Asbury College and a Master in writing from Seton Hill University culminated in the publication of her first hardcover Family Guardian, which won the 2006 National Readers choice Award for Best Regency. She has also sold essays, articles, and other novels. Her next book, Better than Gold has just been released from Barbour Publishing. 

She lives outside Washington, DC with her husband, a law student at Georgetown University, and sundry animals.

This entry was posted on Monday, August 18th, 2008 at 17:37 and is filed under Laurie Eakes. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.