Full lesson title: How I learned
to write details and tips for being the master of writing your own.
Tiny break from genres
because I realized that I haven’t given the foundation lesson for why my
examples are so incredibly detailed and realistic. (Reason for why I didn’t
give examples from my own writing yet.)
When asked throughout school
in essays – specifically by one teacher during my first creative writing class
– what kind of writer peers we (peers and I) wanted to be, you’d end up with a
lot of people listing genres. I, despite the desire to be master of blank genre, chose a more complex
answer. In short, I decided I wanted to be a master of details and realism
despite my adoration for suspense, mystery, fantasy, and science fiction.
Despite that answer, I still set out on a journey to learn how to write in
every single genre known to the English language. Being over educated in the
subject doesn’t hurt. Right?
How I learned to be a
details writer is a funny tale. In some ways it is going to bad. Actually,
scratch that. It IS going to sound
bad.
I learned methods for detail
writing by first learning how to write erotica. Yes, that’s right. I discovered
the secret to detailed writing by learning erotica. Specifically, I learned
from Stacia Kane’s book titled “Be a Sex-Writing Strumpet.”
Ms. Kane’s best piece of
advice (related to said topic at hand) when referring to setting is to treat it
as a third character in the room.
Makes sense, so much sense
it’s that “doh” moment because it is so simple. When there are a specific
number of characters in a room, we don’t neglect one. To ignore a character’s
dialogue and reactions to what’s going on is extreme neglect and that’s what
happens to a lot of writers when it comes to setting. Setting adds to what’s
going on in a scene or a chapter. Knowing that there’s a storm changes how the
reader is imagining the volume of the character’s voice, knowing there’s
poisonous gas in the room justifies the scene’s pacing, and knowing there’s a
bridge crumbling beneath the character’s steps pumps up the risk and emotion of
the following dialogue. It doesn’t just make a well-rounded scene; it gives a
texture to the genre of your choice. Texture that may be a style signature to
every story you write that makes readers know it is you without having to look
at the author’s name. In translation, your style signature is that artistic
signature in the bottom corner of a painting.
Details writing is taking
setting and giving it a dose of steroids. To make an example let’s do a simple
writing exercise:
Imagine a sentimental item
in your home, an item that has been handled a lot be it by you or another
person. Could be that classic piano, grandma’s quilt, or antique books. Now, I
want you to list all of the characteristics that make that item unique. The
tiny chip on the piano’s middle C, the initials of all of grandma’s family
members, indention of fingers on the book’s leather book cover – search for as
many characteristics as you can and write them down.
To show the example of how
it’s done, I’m going to write the details of a family heirloom – my father’s
ABC book.
The cover is a very faded blue and worn. The spine
has been handled so many times no baby blue remains on the corners. The shelf
wear doesn’t entitle the repair of the book but rather respect, respect for
having survived three different owners– respect for surviving sixty-something
years.
Four names are written inside, “From Arthur, To
Richard. From Adrian, To Laura.” Lean in and there’s a nagging feeling that
behind the smell of old parchment is the aroma of Hong Kong and Chicago. The
smells of rich Asian teas and incense clash with the scent deep-dish pizzas and
grandpa’s cologne on specific pages. Never mind the smell of ink and parchment,
it smells like home.
Now take note of how many
details I mentioned. For my writing style, I hit what I call a sweet spot. That
spot between giving the basic info and droning on. When writing details you
have to be careful on how much to pack into a paragraph. Too many details and
the reader is going to lose track of where the scene is going and the dialogue
that is being said. Whenever possible, use your character to give subtle hints
to the extra details either through dialogue or actions.
An example of character subtlety
in details is in my story S. Holmes #1. In a big reveal of a mystery character I
used a soft mention of actions where the character on the other end of the
phone line saw Sheryl’s every move.
Sheryl toed off her shoes and walked over to the nightstand.
With a silence that otherwise was thought impossible, she opened the drawer and
then a false bottom that held a gun. Once her firearm was out of drawer and in
her hand, she glanced out the window.
“Who is this?” Sheryl asked.
“Ooo which gun do you have out this time? Ah, the German.” The
voice chuckled. “You always did love that one. What was the reason you gave me?
Ah yes, “The heat of battle has made it fit my hand like a glove.” You are such
a naughty girl when you bring that one out to play.”
Sheryl’s gaze fluttered over the street and the buildings that
could see directly into her room.
“Who are you?” Sheryl demanded.
“You must have stayed with MI6 a lot longer than I thought, Ms.
Holmes. Your every move screams agent.”
So let’s break this second
draft example of mine where I focused solely on details and pacing. First of
all, actions hinted to only a section of the setting while dialogue gives the
missing pieces of information. Not only that, it gives readers a suggestion
that they can imagine. I could have written, “well used gun” instead of merely
saying gun but the extra mention by the mystery caller gives the information
that 1. Sheryl is used to her firearm 2. That she’s comfortable holding it and
3. The wear patterns on the gun fit her grip which means many-many hours and
years of use. By having the mystery caller comment on Sheryl’s agent-like
movements, I spared myself going into details that would have taken away from
the suspense that someone had broken into her home to leave a message then
decided to call her. Every viewer of crime and mystery have a different idea on
what stealth looks like, best to let them conclude what the motions are instead
of giving it as a play-by-play.
So in summary, detailed
writing is not giving a play-by-play of what is happening in the setting.
Detailed writing is slipping in texture and depth where it’s needed.
So play around with details.
You can’t go wrong with them.
Next up: Realism (Ann’s
writing foundation #2)
