Details. Not a hundred of them listed ad nauseum, but key details unique to the POV character that are both fresh and rich in sensory information. Dig deep into the scene. Don’t just say your hero is wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Maybe his mom hung them on [...]]]> A guest post by Sandra Orchard

Details. Not a hundred of them listed ad nauseum, but key details unique to the POV character that are both fresh and rich in sensory information. Dig deep into the scene. Don’t just say your hero is wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Maybe his mom hung them on the line to dry, and they’re stiff as a board and uncomfortable, not nicely worn in like they are after he’s worn them for a week.

See how this works? You can tell your reader that he’s wearing uncomfortable jeans, or you can give them a picture and a sense of how they feel.

The five senses are your most important friends.

Exploit them! Sticking with clothes for a moment–instead of saying Joe wore sneakers, draw your reader in by describing the squeaking sound they make as he chases a girl down the hall. And don’t forget those wires dangling from his ears. What sound is the observer hearing?

Okay, we’ve covered touch and sound. Sight isn’t a problem for most writers, but what about taste and smell? We don’t often read descriptions involving taste and smell (unless you’re reading romance).

Get up from your chair and walk outside. Take a big whiff and then come back. ….Waiting….Did you do it?….Waiting…

Okay, what did the air smell like? That fresh after-a-storm smell? The heavy, cloying, swallow-your-breath smell of humidity? Like a particular flower or tree? Like horse manure or car exhaust? These kinds of sensory details draw a reader into your story. They help them feel like they’re there.

The same with taste. And don’t restrict yourself to things you put in your mouth. That car exhaust has a definite taste. So do emotions.

Here’s an advanced technique for deepening the emotion of a scene.

The scenery, clothes, etc. that you’ve been describing are from your POV character’s point of view. If you applied last week’s lesson, you’re choosing words that convey that character’s mood in your description. Let’s take that one step further and describe the situation with a metaphor to convey that emotion.

Here’s an example from my new release, Deep Cover, written in the hero’s pov:

Ginny blinked once and then again more deliberately.

He’d forgotten how strikingly green her eyes were, like a forest he could get lost in for hours. Only now they seemed to be measuring him and finding him wanting.

The metaphor is green eyes like a forest he could get lost in four hours. It conveys a wistful sense that he’d like to get lost in looking at her. Since it’s preceded by “he’d forgotten”, it implies he’d once lost himself in those eyes. And then comes the hammer. Not going to happen. Notice the juxtaposition of the wistful feeling to “found wanting”. It makes the effect all the harsher.

A Challenge

When I teach a writing technique, especially encouraging the use of metaphors or the senses, I worry that a student will overuse it. Any technique will become destructive if overused. Choose only an occasional metaphor, and and and make sure it is relevant to the POV character. A high school student will not compare the English teacher’s backside to a German WWII tank, unless he’s a history buff. That said, neglecting the five senses will rob your story of realism.

Exercise:

• Look over a scene or story you’ve written. Do you have at least one of each of the five senses there? Do they evoke memories, include emotions, or set a mood? And just in case—check to see if you’ve overdone it. Remember: too many sensory images can be worse than too few.
• Step two: Do you have a metaphor in the scene? Can you include one? Try it. But it needs to be fresh (not “stiff as a board” like I used in my post…which is a simile, but those are good, too.) Be sure the metaphor is something your POV character would think.

Please share your favorite metaphors in the comment section. And feel free to ask questions.

Author Sandra Orchard has been writing for nearly three decades but took time out to homeschool three children. She “graduated” to a new career when she contracted her first book with Love Inspired Suspense (formerly Steeplehill) the same day her youngest daughter entered college. That daughter, her student, is also a writer of award-winning short stories and articles for The Canadian Horse Journal and CinchMagazine.com, an Ezine which she also co-edits.

Deep Cover, the debut novel in Sandra’s Undercover Cops series released in early September. Shades of Truth will follow in March 2012.  You can read topnotch book reviews as well as inspiring true stories at her website www.SandraOrchard.com.

Do you scratch your head when someone tells you that you need to “show, not tell”? It’s the key to writing compelling commercial fiction, but an often difficult concept to grasp in all its nuances. Today I’m going to share with you some simple ways to…

Benjamin looked over the valley as he retrieved tools from the back of his truck.

That gets the message [...]]]> Readers of my book Grow Old With Me often comment about my descriptive writing style. I love to pull the reader into the scene and the story world by showing them what my characters experience.

Benjamin looked over the valley as he retrieved tools from the back of his truck.

That gets the message across. It’s also dry and boring. The following paragraphs open Chapter Two. They give readers a glimpse into Benjamin’s mind and the world he’s observing. This pulls them inside his head so they can understand and relate to him on a deeper level.

Benjamin left Mosey Inn and pulled into the gravel lot beside the church a few minutes after seven on Saturday. He climbed into the bed of his truck to unlock the toolbox. Drawn by the beauty of the valley, he paused.

Stone steps descended from the churchyard to the meadow where a mist was just lifting. Dew glistened on buttercups coloring the pastures bordering the rodeo arena. Love Valley came to life as red-streaked clouds gave way to a pale gray sky.

After fetching the necessary tools, he planned his workday as tourists and residents began their morning routines in the serene domain below.

The aroma of bacon and coffee floated up the hill from campgrounds. His stomach growled since he hadn’t taken full advantage of Sarah’s breakfast.

Campfire smoke drifted with the fog. Clouds vanished from the mountaintop. The murmur of distant voices mingled with horse whinnies. Bawling calves and bellowing bulls competed with the distant tinkle of wind chimes on Main Street.

The chill of the previous night had passed well before dawn. By mid morning, steam rose from tin roofed stables as the puddles from last night’s storm evaporated. A battered straw hat provided shade for his face, but rising temperatures sapped his energy.

We get a picture of an area in Love Valley and an idea of the emotions Benjamin experiences as he begins his workday.

Mixing descriptive passages with dialogue and action scenes paints vivid images in the reader’s mind.

One of our writing goals is to give the reader a deep emotional experience. You do that when you:

• Add the five senses to your writing.
• Give the reader details and make it personal.
• Make them feel conflict.
• Choose strong, appropriate words.
• Help them relate to the characters. (What does Benjamin notice? How does he feel about what he sees?)

There’s a delicate balance between too much description and an active, living scene. If I went on and on about what Benjamin saw and heard you’d become bored. It may take time to find the right balance, but you’ll find your writing voice and descriptive style through practice.

Exercise:

Write a descriptive paragraph about your story world by:

• Adding sensory references (What does the character see, hear, feel, taste, smell?)
• Giving enough detail to make the scene personal
• Including some form of conflict or tension
• Choosing strong, appropriate words
• Helping readers relate to your character as they experience his view of the world.

Exercise: Look for these [...]]]> Filler words are distracting…not to mention annoying.

In speech, they crop up when we don’t know quite how to communicate what we’re trying to say. Filler words crop up in writing for the same reason and have the same effect. Annoying distractions, they muddy the message and communicate almost nothing.

Exercise: Look for these common filler words in your writing. Think of them as red letter words that stop communication. Replace them wherever possible to improve your story.

it – What is it? It is a pronoun that refers back to an antecedent (a noun you used earlier). Many times you can replace it with a synonym for the original noun.

Example:

• It Her nose, all swollen from crying, wasn’t a pretty sight.

there – What’s it there for? See if you can replace generic terms with descriptive words that create images.

• “Put it over there on the desk–anywhere you can find a clean spot.”

very – This adverb emphasizes a higher degree of something. Look for an opportunity to choose a better word or a more colorful phrase.

Examples:

• His nose was very big ginormous.
• She looked very angry like a teapot about to boil over, spewing superheated venom on anyone within range.

really – Like very, this modifier can usually be replaced with something far more interesting. See if there’s a way to show instead of merely telling.

Example:

• Denny really didn’t want to go dragged his feet on the way to class. Math made him really sick nauseous, like the time he got food poisoning. Yup. Algebra could kill.

big – An adjective, but a weak one. Use a thesaurus, if you need one, to find more meaningful words.

Examples:

• He knew at once that his decision was a big mistake catastrophe.
• He knew at once that his decision was a big mistake would lead to an epic fail–a blunder of legendary proportions destined to live eternally in the annals of Whitman High.

little – Another weak adjective, but I’ll bet you’re getting the hang of editing by now.

Search and destroy weak writing!

If you come up with a gem, we’d love to read it your before and after! Leave a comment!

I’m talking about words like:

thought                    wondered                    felt

knew                        saw                             noticed

observed                  realized                      [...]]]> Last month I posted about “weasel words”—those unnecessary words that sneak into your manuscript. These weasels have companions that accompany them. Their friends are phrases or words that spoil the ‘show vs. tell’ aspect of your work.

I’m talking about words like:

thought                    wondered                    felt

knew                        saw                             noticed

observed                  realized                      noted

These sneaky words are sometimes useful, but they can make our writing lazy. Instead of showing what happened, we simply say it occurred.

Example:

She wondered if the fabric would make a warm winter cloak.

That’s not a bad sentence. We have a picture of what’s happening. But add some details, and it becomes a masterpiece instead of a rough sketch. Create a word picture for the reader. Show her exploring the idea by fingering the fabric thickness, draping it around her shoulders to test the warmth, or asking a clerk in a section of dialogue. These actions show instead of tell.

Another type of weasel phrase can show up as an action or emotion tacked on to a sentence.

Example:

She nodded in agreement.

Adding “in agreement” becomes redundant since a nod means she agreed.

She reached out to grasp the handle.

Can you spot the weasel phrase in this sentence?

“Reached out to” is an extra phrase since the word ‘grasped’ describes the movement. If you want to show the reader why or how she grasped the handle, expand it with a better word picture.

I know, these are picky little things, but learning to write tight sentences that show action will make your manuscript more exciting.

Exercise:

Try writing a sentence or paragraph to show the action intended by each of the words I listed. Create the image in the reader’s mind as you paint the scene with your words.

It would be fitting, perhaps, to “show” you an example.

Below is the first paragraph of a scene in my work in progress [...]]]> “Showing vs. Telling”

We’ve written much about this concept of using vivid action, description, and dialogue to show what’s happening in a story rather than simply telling readers about what happens.

It would be fitting, perhaps, to “show” you an example.

Below is the first paragraph of a scene in my work in progress (wip), More Precious Than Gold. Eliza is my heroine. The town’s doctor is in jail, and Eliza’s father has just been shot by an intruder who wandered into their home after a riot. Here’s how it appeared before the final edit.

Before:

A neighbor heard the shot. An eternity passed before he returned with a doctor, but Eliza understood. One was in jail and another in hiding as an accomplice. Who knew where the sympathies of the town’s other physicians lay? She didn’t ask, and she didn’t care at that point. Stanching the flow of blood was of paramount importance.

Do you see how this paragraph “tells” you about what’s happening? You can almost hear the writer (um…that would be me) narrating the story. I “tell” you that the neighbor heard the shot. I imply that he went for a doctor and “tell” you that it took a long time. While there’s nothing particularly wrong with that, it’s just not very interesting. There’s lots of potential tension in this scene. It would be so much better to “show” the action as it unfolds, allowing readers to see through the POV (point of view) character’s eyes. Look what I did with it.

After:

Eliza snatched a shawl from the hall tree and pressed it to Papa’s wounds as she cradled his head in her lap. The door creaked open, squeezing them against the wall. She stifled a cry and leaned forward, shielding him with her body.

It was only a neighbor. “I heard a shot. Do you . . . oh, Lord! I’ll get help.”

An eternity passed before he returned with a doctor in tow, but Eliza understood. One was in jail and another in hiding as an accomplice. Who knew where the sympathies of the town’s other physicians lay? She didn’t ask, and she didn’t care at that point. Stanching the flow of blood was of paramount importance.

There are still some “telling” sentences, but they center on Eliza, setting the scene for new sentences that play up the action (snatching the shawl, pressing it to the wound) and emotion (trying not to scream, shielding the victim) or the sensory aspects of the scene (the creaking door, feeling squeezed).

The vilest offender in the early version of this paragraph was the first sentence where I “told” you the neighbor heard the shot. If I’m writing from Eliza’s POV, she could only assume this, at best. Look how much more interesting it is to convert that sentence to dialogue that shows the same information, Eliza’s relief, the neighbor’s alarm.

Exercise:

Use my original paragraph of choose one of your own that seems to buffer the action by “telling” it. Using vivid action verbs, sensory elements, and dialogue, experiment with ways you could “show” the story unfolding.

p.s.—Papa doesn’t die, so you can breathe easy.

p.p.s.—I have done so many edits on this wip that I have lost count. This isn’t unusual for a professional writer. Hemingway rewrote the last chapter of The Old Man and the Sea 40 times before he was pleased with it! Writing is a tedious job, but every improvement moves the story from “good” closer to “excellent.”

We’ve discussed showing vs. telling in [...]]]> We all have unique facial expressions and gestures. In a novel, these make each character different. Joe may frown when he’s thinking. Mary may pull her eyebrows together. Tracy might purse her lips and tap a finger against them. You might cross your arms and tap your foot.

We’ve discussed showing vs. telling in several lessons. This is an important aspect of writing. I can tell you about my trip to the beach, but you understand it better when I show you a picture. You were not there to taste the salt, see the waves, feel the sun, touch the powdery sand, or hear the call of the seagulls. In a novel, we seldom have pictures. You must experience each character’s actions and emotions through the word pictures the author paints.

When a writer shows a clear picture via words, the reader sees the image. As you write, make the scene play like a movie clip or a series of snapshots. The story comes through the eyes of one character—the point of view character in that scene.

How do you show an action? I could say that Jane was angry. If I describe her as red-faced, throwing toys, yelling, and stomping around the room, you get a picture of her anger.

Describing a facial expression or a gesture is often necessary. Do his eyes light up when he smiles at his toddler? Does she stare at the ground when her mother scolds her for stealing from the cookie jar? Did silent tears roll down her cheeks when she lost her pet, or did her chest heave with sobs? Was he leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed? These examples evoke an image in your mind. They show the action.

Become a people watcher. Observe actions and facial expressions at school, in church, on the streets, and in restaurant. Write them down and practice painting the image with words so your reader sees what you have seen.

Exercise:

Show these actions in a paragraph without naming the emotion.

• Joy
• Anger
• Fear
• Sorrow