Less Hemingway, more description!
January 10, 2012 9:56 AM Subscribe
I know, a good problem to have: How can I become a more descriptive writer?
I have a journalism background, so I have learned to write succinctly, with very little fluff - active voice, no adjectives, say what you need to say and move on. However, I'm trying to do more creative writing, and the description, the prose that really moves a reader, just isn't there. My first draft of my master's thesis was only 30 pages long (my adviser said, um, can you expound on anything??); my first attempt at a novel hit only 40,000 words.
Yes, Hemingway succeeded with his short journalistic style, but it just seems like my prose is not thought out - I hit on an idea but don't flesh it out. I recently found this article by Justin Davidson - the first paragraph just blew me away:
"If I could crash any cultural event in history, it would be the night in April 1805 when a short man with a Kirk Douglas chin and a wrestler's build stomped onto the stage of the Theater an der Wien in Vienna. Ludwig van Beethoven, 34 years old and already well along the way to deafness, swiveled to face a group of tense musicians and whipped them into playing a pair of fist-on-the-table E-flat major chords (blam! ... blam!), followed by a quietly rocking cello melody. If I listen hard enough, I can almost transport myself into that stuffy, stuccoed room. I inhale the smells of damp wool and kerosene and feel the first, transformative shock of Beethoven's Third Symphony, the 'Eroica,' as it exploded into the world" (New York Magazine, March 29, 2010)
How do I write like that? What exercises can I work on that will allow me to slow down and let the reader experience my full thoughts?
I have a journalism background, so I have learned to write succinctly, with very little fluff - active voice, no adjectives, say what you need to say and move on. However, I'm trying to do more creative writing, and the description, the prose that really moves a reader, just isn't there. My first draft of my master's thesis was only 30 pages long (my adviser said, um, can you expound on anything??); my first attempt at a novel hit only 40,000 words.
Yes, Hemingway succeeded with his short journalistic style, but it just seems like my prose is not thought out - I hit on an idea but don't flesh it out. I recently found this article by Justin Davidson - the first paragraph just blew me away:
"If I could crash any cultural event in history, it would be the night in April 1805 when a short man with a Kirk Douglas chin and a wrestler's build stomped onto the stage of the Theater an der Wien in Vienna. Ludwig van Beethoven, 34 years old and already well along the way to deafness, swiveled to face a group of tense musicians and whipped them into playing a pair of fist-on-the-table E-flat major chords (blam! ... blam!), followed by a quietly rocking cello melody. If I listen hard enough, I can almost transport myself into that stuffy, stuccoed room. I inhale the smells of damp wool and kerosene and feel the first, transformative shock of Beethoven's Third Symphony, the 'Eroica,' as it exploded into the world" (New York Magazine, March 29, 2010)
How do I write like that? What exercises can I work on that will allow me to slow down and let the reader experience my full thoughts?
http://www.metafilter.com/111393/The-long-sentence-opens-the-very-doors-that-a-short-sentence-simply-slams-shut
posted by Jason and Laszlo at 10:12 AM on January 10, 2012
posted by Jason and Laszlo at 10:12 AM on January 10, 2012
The quickest way IMO has always been read four hours, write four hours. Every day.
If that's impossible (and it is for most people with jobs), spend an hour a night reading and either keep a journal close at hand. Reflect on what you read for a few mins after you're done.
The goal isn't to steal, though the joke is that all great writers steal, but to let it percolate through your brain forming connections. Stephen King in one story referred to it as "the junk heap of the mind" all writers had.
One of the best things that came out of a writing class was when the teacher had everyone write up lists of their favorite words. I still have that somewhere around here.
posted by OnTheLastCastle at 10:19 AM on January 10, 2012 [2 favorites]
If that's impossible (and it is for most people with jobs), spend an hour a night reading and either keep a journal close at hand. Reflect on what you read for a few mins after you're done.
The goal isn't to steal, though the joke is that all great writers steal, but to let it percolate through your brain forming connections. Stephen King in one story referred to it as "the junk heap of the mind" all writers had.
One of the best things that came out of a writing class was when the teacher had everyone write up lists of their favorite words. I still have that somewhere around here.
posted by OnTheLastCastle at 10:19 AM on January 10, 2012 [2 favorites]
Best answer: Read and re-read and re-read a work with the style you like and admire and would like to emulate.
I find that after a while, I start to see through it into the linguistic habits and techniques, and then by thinking about those observations and rephrasing them into Rules Of Thumb, I find that reading or editing or writing with those rules in mind will prompt me into choices I would otherwise have missed, and if desired, result in a matching writing style.
Then that style becomes a habit that you can use at will, and add to your library of writing styles :)
posted by -harlequin- at 10:36 AM on January 10, 2012 [1 favorite]
I find that after a while, I start to see through it into the linguistic habits and techniques, and then by thinking about those observations and rephrasing them into Rules Of Thumb, I find that reading or editing or writing with those rules in mind will prompt me into choices I would otherwise have missed, and if desired, result in a matching writing style.
Then that style becomes a habit that you can use at will, and add to your library of writing styles :)
posted by -harlequin- at 10:36 AM on January 10, 2012 [1 favorite]
I'm the same way (I tend to write very short and punchy and wish I could be more descriptive). What I do is write out what I have in mind, then go back and add the color that would be relevant to the scene as I've composed it. Basically, sketch it out, then add the color that your editor would take out for being too fluffy.
posted by Ghostride The Whip at 10:36 AM on January 10, 2012
posted by Ghostride The Whip at 10:36 AM on January 10, 2012
Coming up with ridiculous detective-movie-narration similes (รก la Guy Noir) is a fun language game that can help develop an eye for detail and left-field comparisons that translates pretty well to serious writing.
posted by chairmanroflmao at 10:57 AM on January 10, 2012 [2 favorites]
posted by chairmanroflmao at 10:57 AM on January 10, 2012 [2 favorites]
Robert Olen Butler has a good book called From Where You Dream that's specifically focused on how you daydream scenes in precise sensory detail, and work that sensory detail into your writing. I think that was the book that really helped me transition from writing 40,000-word novels with lightly sketched out scenes toward writing substantially longer novels with more detailed descriptions.
You should read the book, but it's really a matter of consciously putting your own imagination into the scene you're trying to write and letting it linger there, paying attention to as much as you can -- smells, sounds, textures, everything.
posted by Jeanne at 11:20 AM on January 10, 2012
You should read the book, but it's really a matter of consciously putting your own imagination into the scene you're trying to write and letting it linger there, paying attention to as much as you can -- smells, sounds, textures, everything.
posted by Jeanne at 11:20 AM on January 10, 2012
Haha, I am like you, I have this problem. (I'm in edits on a book right now and my editor was like, "So you get a little..." And I was like "TELEGRAPHIC? YES. MORSE CODE, I KNOW, SORRY. BEEP BEEP BOP BEEP.")
The first step to cheating your way out of it is: stop in every paragraph and insert a smell or a sound. (If you can't do that, just insert a color.) It changes everything.
I am doing this in all my "serious" (LOL) writing right now (AND I can't believe I'm admitting it here) and it totally works. People want to smell; people want to see; people want to hear. Words like "LEMON" and "YELLOW" and "GRASS" and "CREAM" and, yes, "CELLO," trigger things in the mind and make the reader's brain engage at an animal level, and then they're in the palm of your hand.
Um if I figure out the second cheating step I'll tell you.
But the essence here is that: you're stealing from the reader. You're under-describing; you've become afraid of tangents. Time to get a little lush.
posted by RJ Reynolds at 11:53 AM on January 10, 2012 [2 favorites]
The first step to cheating your way out of it is: stop in every paragraph and insert a smell or a sound. (If you can't do that, just insert a color.) It changes everything.
I am doing this in all my "serious" (LOL) writing right now (AND I can't believe I'm admitting it here) and it totally works. People want to smell; people want to see; people want to hear. Words like "LEMON" and "YELLOW" and "GRASS" and "CREAM" and, yes, "CELLO," trigger things in the mind and make the reader's brain engage at an animal level, and then they're in the palm of your hand.
Um if I figure out the second cheating step I'll tell you.
But the essence here is that: you're stealing from the reader. You're under-describing; you've become afraid of tangents. Time to get a little lush.
posted by RJ Reynolds at 11:53 AM on January 10, 2012 [2 favorites]
I'm a (non-professional) writer. I've been a writer for as long as I can remember. When I was young I'd compose poems on the school playground while the other kids were playing ball & the girl were standing in the corner gossiping. In high school it was letters ... so many letters, and a journal. When I traveled the country I sent mass emails back to friends & family (this was before blogs & facebook) detailing ... most of the interesting bits of my journey. I write a lot of non-fiction, and as a hobby I analyze the structure of hollywood movies in a attempt to dissect the so-called hollywood formula.
I believe the above is a strong example of "writing is re-writing." I had to re-read the first sentence a few sentences in because I'd assumed the man with the Kirk Douglas chin was not Ludwig Van Beethoven. To me this is jarring & takes me out of the reading. I'm too aware of the author in that passage.
This also offers a clue to how it was written.
I discovered a songwriting trick a few years ago (I also pick apart songs in my spare time). When rhyming, you put the throw-away line before the substantive line. Let's take this Ani Difranco lyric as an example:
In that passage, the second sentence is the most important.
Note how the description adds to the action, it does not stop it or take away from it. It describes the action, gives it weight and swagger. Never (or rarely) describe objects, describe only actions.
Consider this sentence:
He slammed the door.
If you could add a description to it, what would you add? Would you describe the man, the slamming or the door?
"He slammed the red door."- doesn't make it better. I don't care that the door is red.
"Plaster fell from the roof after he slammed the door." - Better, it illustrates the force he used to slam the door.
"The slender, well dressed man nearly lost his balance as he threw his weight against the heavy oak door, slamming it shut." - Best, it gives you enough information to visualize the ACTION of the sentence.
Only once the action has happened, almost like smoking a cigarette after sex, does the author indulge in a sentence that is nearly pure description, but it even contains some action (the wish of being transported).
I once put a book down after reading this opening line:
"The mustard colored jacket of the maitre d' as he turned away from us..."
Does this line push me into the story? Does it propel me forward? No. This line fails because I do not care that the matire de has turned away from you. The fact that you need to tell me the color of his jacket BEFORE you even tell me that he turned away from you (which I also do not care about) makes it even worse. Why? Because I do not care what happens next. You've just described the most mundane occurrence on Earth. What is the action? What is the character in this sentence doing and why do I care enough to read the next sentence? Did he succeed? Did he fail? What risks does he face in the next sentence? Every sentence is someone doing something, and doing it with - verve, panache, desperation, intensity, anger, fear, lust, cock-suredness, gentleness, etc. And what they're doing must be something I care about, something I want to see them succeed or fail in.
This on the other hand:
"a short man with a Kirk Douglas chin and a wrestler's build stomped onto the stage" (even if Kirk Douglas chin takes me out of the writing) make me wonder what happened next. It propels me to the next sentence because interesting things happen on stages. Interesting things, however, do not happen when maitre d's turn away from people.
Always move your narrative forward with everything you do, and if you must add description, use it to color the action and not the objects in the room (including many of the other people).
posted by MesoFilter at 10:12 PM on January 10, 2012
I believe the above is a strong example of "writing is re-writing." I had to re-read the first sentence a few sentences in because I'd assumed the man with the Kirk Douglas chin was not Ludwig Van Beethoven. To me this is jarring & takes me out of the reading. I'm too aware of the author in that passage.
This also offers a clue to how it was written.
I discovered a songwriting trick a few years ago (I also pick apart songs in my spare time). When rhyming, you put the throw-away line before the substantive line. Let's take this Ani Difranco lyric as an example:
Fourteenth street and the garbage swirls like a cycloneThat lyric builds to the last line. The last line reveals what the rest of the verse is about.
Three-o-clock in the afternoon and I am going home
F-train is full of high school students, so much shouting, so much laughter
Last night's underwear in my back pocket, sure sign of the morning after
In that passage, the second sentence is the most important.
Ludwig van Beethoven, 34 years old and already well along the way to deafness, swiveled to face a group of tense musicians and whipped them into playing a pair of fist-on-the-table E-flat major chords (blam! ... blam!), followed by a quietly rocking cello melody.This is the thing that happens. Without this sentence nothing happens. Without the other sentences, this still happens. You must then, like a songwriter, go in and fix this line until it shines. You must fill in the surrounding lines until they build to the climax. Your description should never stop the narrative - each sentence must lead to the next & the next - each sentence must contain some sort of action. So you must decide what actions led up to the action that is the climax of your paragraph. You must then add description to them - as those above have pointed out, through the way you describe the action.
Note how the description adds to the action, it does not stop it or take away from it. It describes the action, gives it weight and swagger. Never (or rarely) describe objects, describe only actions.
Consider this sentence:
He slammed the door.
If you could add a description to it, what would you add? Would you describe the man, the slamming or the door?
"He slammed the red door."- doesn't make it better. I don't care that the door is red.
"Plaster fell from the roof after he slammed the door." - Better, it illustrates the force he used to slam the door.
"The slender, well dressed man nearly lost his balance as he threw his weight against the heavy oak door, slamming it shut." - Best, it gives you enough information to visualize the ACTION of the sentence.
Only once the action has happened, almost like smoking a cigarette after sex, does the author indulge in a sentence that is nearly pure description, but it even contains some action (the wish of being transported).
If I listen hard enough, I can almost transport myself into that stuffy, stuccoed room. I inhale the smells of damp wool and kerosene and feel the first, transformative shock of Beethoven's Third Symphony, the 'Eroica,' as it exploded into the world.Your description should always add to the forward movement of the story, and never be just for the sake of description itself.
I once put a book down after reading this opening line:
"The mustard colored jacket of the maitre d' as he turned away from us..."
Does this line push me into the story? Does it propel me forward? No. This line fails because I do not care that the matire de has turned away from you. The fact that you need to tell me the color of his jacket BEFORE you even tell me that he turned away from you (which I also do not care about) makes it even worse. Why? Because I do not care what happens next. You've just described the most mundane occurrence on Earth. What is the action? What is the character in this sentence doing and why do I care enough to read the next sentence? Did he succeed? Did he fail? What risks does he face in the next sentence? Every sentence is someone doing something, and doing it with - verve, panache, desperation, intensity, anger, fear, lust, cock-suredness, gentleness, etc. And what they're doing must be something I care about, something I want to see them succeed or fail in.
This on the other hand:
"a short man with a Kirk Douglas chin and a wrestler's build stomped onto the stage" (even if Kirk Douglas chin takes me out of the writing) make me wonder what happened next. It propels me to the next sentence because interesting things happen on stages. Interesting things, however, do not happen when maitre d's turn away from people.
Always move your narrative forward with everything you do, and if you must add description, use it to color the action and not the objects in the room (including many of the other people).
posted by MesoFilter at 10:12 PM on January 10, 2012
What exercises can I work on that will allow me to slow down and let the reader experience my full thoughts?
Start a blog as a different person -- make up a new you, a nameless writer who gushes sensory experience. Write for your audience (your invisible readers) without worrying about whether you are doing it the way the old you would do it. Choose a subject area you don't normally write about -- interviews? reviews? travel? history? car repair? cooking? your tour of the spice rack? -- and just bang out text.
If you're writing about a food, you've got at least four senses to talk about, maybe five if it's bubbling or sizzling and crackling. If you're writing about a place, you've got a different four senses, maybe five if you're picking things up there and eating them (or you're licking the walls). And there are motions to watch for -- things change in time, things go from A to B to C and back to A in fascinating patterns. You never just "go" somewhere -- you get there over a certain route, taking a certain time, using a certain vehicle, passing certain sights and sounds. If you're interviewing old people about local history, pay attention to the gold teeth and the hair styles and the clothes and the shoes, the accents and mannerisms, not just to the local history. If you're writing the history of the Elk Lodge, go be an Elk and attend the meetings and learn what a room full of old Elk smells like. You aren't at a table in an empty universe, you are at a certain table in a certain room or on a certain street, and you are surrounded by other tables, other people. You can work things out by writing about the same things repeatedly in new contexts until you finally get that smell or taste or color right.
Always maintain a mental (or actual) checklist of senses, shapes, and motions and whether you're paying attention to them and writing about them. If you can't take notes quickly enough, discreetly record your voice and pretend that you're talking to someone else if someone notices. Even if your notes are good, record the ambient sound and take pictures so you have reminders to help you when you get back to your desk and write.
posted by pracowity at 3:01 AM on January 11, 2012
Start a blog as a different person -- make up a new you, a nameless writer who gushes sensory experience. Write for your audience (your invisible readers) without worrying about whether you are doing it the way the old you would do it. Choose a subject area you don't normally write about -- interviews? reviews? travel? history? car repair? cooking? your tour of the spice rack? -- and just bang out text.
If you're writing about a food, you've got at least four senses to talk about, maybe five if it's bubbling or sizzling and crackling. If you're writing about a place, you've got a different four senses, maybe five if you're picking things up there and eating them (or you're licking the walls). And there are motions to watch for -- things change in time, things go from A to B to C and back to A in fascinating patterns. You never just "go" somewhere -- you get there over a certain route, taking a certain time, using a certain vehicle, passing certain sights and sounds. If you're interviewing old people about local history, pay attention to the gold teeth and the hair styles and the clothes and the shoes, the accents and mannerisms, not just to the local history. If you're writing the history of the Elk Lodge, go be an Elk and attend the meetings and learn what a room full of old Elk smells like. You aren't at a table in an empty universe, you are at a certain table in a certain room or on a certain street, and you are surrounded by other tables, other people. You can work things out by writing about the same things repeatedly in new contexts until you finally get that smell or taste or color right.
Always maintain a mental (or actual) checklist of senses, shapes, and motions and whether you're paying attention to them and writing about them. If you can't take notes quickly enough, discreetly record your voice and pretend that you're talking to someone else if someone notices. Even if your notes are good, record the ambient sound and take pictures so you have reminders to help you when you get back to your desk and write.
posted by pracowity at 3:01 AM on January 11, 2012
Response by poster: These are all fantastic answers! I'm coming to the realization that this type of prose doesn't flow easily. When I was in the newspaper business I could bang out a 10 paragraph story in half an hour. I think my brain needs some re-training - and some patience.
posted by adverb at 7:28 AM on January 11, 2012
posted by adverb at 7:28 AM on January 11, 2012
This thread is closed to new comments.
Check out how light he is on adjectives or weak "is/are" verbs, and how much of it is just a stripped-down communication of the action that is disrupting the evening in 1805.
posted by steinsaltz at 10:03 AM on January 10, 2012 [3 favorites]