An Excellent Description
by Suzanne Hartmann
Several months ago, while reading the selection of the month for a book club, I came across the following description of how it felt to a child in the 1940s to drink a soda for the first time.
I read the sentence several more times just to enjoy the visual effects. The only word that came to mind was, “Wow!” The words are fanciful, yet an accurate description of the sensation. I have to admit that this is one of the best description I’ve ever read.
From Home to Holly Springs by Jan Karon: The fizz had entered his nasal passages and gone straight to his cerebrum, where it shivered and danced and burst like a Roman candle in his brain.
Do the words pop out at you like they did for me? Are the pictures they paint in your mind vivid? Do they make you relive the sensation yourself?
What kind of description do you have in your writing? Does it make the readers feel like they’re seeing/experiencing/sensing it with the characters or do they just give the facts?
CHALLENGE:
1) Find a vivid description in your own writing and share it in a comment below.
OR
2) Write a vivid description (either from scratch or rewriting one from your writing) and share it in a comment.
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SUZANNE HARTMANN is the author of PERIL: Fast Track Thriller #1, and Write This Way: Take Your Writing to a New Level, a blueprint for new authors to guide them through the process of writing and revising a novel.
Suzanne is a homeschool mom and lives in the St. Louis area with her husband and three children. When not homeschooling or writing, she enjoys scrapbooking, reading, and Bible study. On the editorial side, she is a contributing editor with Port Yonder Press and operates the Write This Way Critique Service.
LINK for Write This Way: Write This Way Blog: http://suzanne-hartmann2.blogspot.com/2007/01/write-this-way-take-your-writing-to-new.html
LINKS for Suzanne:
Facebook – Suzanne Hartmann – Author
Twitter – @SuzInIL
5 Comments until now.
Thank you so much, Suzanne! I am a newbie and love being mentored. Would love to hear your feedback on the following description paragraph taken from one of my blog posts:
“There was a lot happening at home. The clattering background sounded lively. I could hear the cereal grinder blitzing, the pressure cooker whistling, the washing machine droning and the television blaring. It must be one of the favourite cartoon shows that my son loved watching. My ears ached to hear my four year old son, but what came through was my mum yelling on the phone, “What is this, Meera? This entire week you haven’t been around for your little one. This is not how a family functions.” My numbed mind quickly retorted to myself, “…but this is how the corporate world functions!” I had mastered the art of searing my emotions when it came to office work. “…there is so much to do here, but, you only care for your office” rebuked mum. ‘Tomorrow is a big day for both of you. He’ll celebrate friendship day at his pre-school and it is your big day too. Hope you remember?” she continued. I smiled, content that someone remembered my birthday.”
Here’s another one that I have…thank you so much again! Once again taken from my blog post:
“The first critical objection she took was with my work timings. The school’s policy allowed staff members to regulate their reporting hours to accommodate their corresponding work schedules, in a way offering flexibility. The school started at 6.30 AM. As I lived the farthest, I requested reaching the school at 8.15 AM before my first session that was scheduled at 9:00 AM every day. If I had to reach the school at 6.15 AM, I needed to leave home at 5:10 AM and travel by the 5.30 AM local train. None had issues with my request. But EHOD outright turned it down with no room to negotiate. After many meetings I eventually decided to give in to the 6.30 AM slot. Humiliation and resentment ruled large. With great disdain I began journeying in the 5.30 AM local. Adding injury to insult, almost every other day I ended up leaving the school not before 5 PM.”
One more…many thanks again, Suzanne! This is from one of my short stories:
“The pond, which was tucked away a few meters from the school, offered a serene sight. It was an abode to many beautifully coloured fishes. The lush green bushes that dotted the pond’s periphery boasted of their well-pruned edges. The overarching criss-crosses of sturdy trees around the pond stood tall like super heroes. The rather breezy morning today made the bushes sway in a mesmerizing dance swishing and swashing around the pond.
Years before the school was even built, the founder was drawn to the pond and had initially thought of developing the area into a commercial fishing ground. But wisdom prevailed over commerce and the school building was built. Soon the pond graduated to adorn a seven-layered seating deck laced around its frame and security personnel appointed to guard the pond and its visitors.”
The volcanic lava of bitterness roiled up his esophagus, burning like a bad case of heartburn, until it spewed out his twisted lips in a ranting diatribe against her.
(Dialogue omitted)
Forcing their way into her ears, the words retained their heat, like hydrochloric acid burning her heart and mind. Yet the power of the Spirit quickly neutralised them, soothing with the balm of unconditional love for her former boyfriend.
This is a description of spring, which in my part of the world happened back in September!
“There are the mud-flowers of dialect
And the immortelles of perfect pitch
And that moment when the bird sings very close
To the music of what happens.” (Seamus Heaney, “Song”)
Clearly, today’s “what happens” is Spring in all its golden warmth. A week ago, floods and snow; today, glorious sunshine. The birds are thrilling to its touch: every bush and tree is alive with twitter and song, as if some kind of liquid energy has been uncorked and cannot be contained. My whole morning has been framed and infused and delighted by robin-song. Drawn out by his ceaseless invitation, I was rewarded by a flash of orange wings, as he changed “stage” from one tree to another.
Spring has arrived; we are revived.
link: http://www.pennylane-kjh.blogspot.com/2013/09/when-bird-sings.html