Language is an amazing thing. So much emotion can be conveyed with a carefully construed statement. Each word is a drop of paint, each phrase a brush stroke, every conversation a canvas, so why would anyone choose to paint by numbers? My opinion—most people don’t realize they’re doing it.
Anton Chekhov said, “Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” A friend of mine once told me she wouldn’t want to live in “that barn.” Obviously referring to my novel, I thought that meant she didn’t like the story. Happily, that wasn’t the case. She went on to say how much she’d like to visit the plantation, just not “that barn.” She acted as if the plantation from my book actually existed! I was elated and I had my wife to thank for it.
Months before I finished the story, my wife proofread the rough draft. One of the first things she said was, “I’m having a hard time picturing it.” The problem was I had a lot of bland descriptions:
Where we stood served as a great view point. Below us was a huge field. It was perfectly square. Each side butted up against the jungle. It extended even further South and then there was a small barn that sat on a small road which split the crop in two. To the North the crop continued on a great distance as well before it was split again by another small road and barn. Each lot had something different planted in it. The one to the right (South) looked like coffee, the one directly below them was corn and the one to the left (North) was sugar cane.
I cringe reading that now. Here’s a better example from the final version of my book:
I could hear the tide roll against the sand. It was a peaceful rushing sound, like a room full of whispers talking all at once. Then, as if the room of people made a collective gasp, the water pulled back out to sea.
The TV manual type descriptions from my rough draft were boring, bland, and used a lot of useless directional references (north, south, etc). Had my friend read my original manuscript, I’m sure her feedback would have been completely different.
So, ultimately, I’m using my own examples to show how important it is to paint a picture and not describe a painting when you write. Believe your story world exists. Don’t just imagine specific scenes, but visit the place in your mind. Close your eyes and pretend you’re in your character’s bedroom. Move around the room and feel the rough, unfinished walls and the frayed, stringy curtains. Take in the smells of stale wood and wet dirt. If you give the place color and texture, your readers will be able to see and feel it better.
And now, simply because I like the quote so much, I choose to end with Mr. Mark Twain’s advice: “Substitute ‘damn’ every time you’re inclined to write ‘very’; your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be.”
David MacIver’s short story, “Fogo” will be in the upcoming A Dash of Madness: A Thriller Anthology slated for release July 31, 2013.
