Creative writing - Mike Sanders 2014
A concrete core
Dynamic details
You, the writer
In this chapter
· Writing concrete details
· Creating significant details
· Judging the quality of your details
· Ways to make your writing seem lifelike
As the cliché maintains, “The devil is in the details.” The right mix of them can be the difference between a scene nearly diabolical in how unforgettable it is and one that might be found in any number of hundreds of long-obscure, out-of-print books—bland, vague, forgotten.
Details ground the reader in a scene—in an era, a locale, a tone or feel. They create instant identifiers and evoke memories and feelings in the reader that then connect the reader to the narrative. One or two well-chosen words of detail can do more for a scene than long phrases of description or yet another exchange of dialogue. The details can create an instant image in the reader’s mind. And with that image comes one or more emotions: anxiety, hope, lust, well-being. Writers can take advantage of this instant identification to create powerful scenes by employing just a few mere words. However, they need to be the right words.
This chapter shows you how to go about rendering your details effectively. It covers the differences and uses of them that are “concrete” and those referred to as “significant.” As in the previous chapter, I again address the importance of judgment because a writer can easily become overly detailed. Lastly, I offer techniques for how to make your writing seem more real and lifelike through the use of details.
WATCH OUT!
Details can be overdone. Too much detail means nothing stands out. Instead of defining every little object, highlight what’s important and let the reader imagine the rest based on what you’ve already supplied. Including detail does not mean you need to identify every item with a description or brand name. Be specific, yes, but don’t overdo. Naming brands for every object in a scene is unrealistic and quickly distracts the reader from your work.
A concrete core
Concrete details are specific details that form the core of a piece of writing. If you think about it, most people don’t use enough concrete details in everyday speech to really tell you anything that’s especially particular. They have the specifics in their mind, but they either don’t want to take the time to relate them or they don’t know what’s important to tell.
DEFINITION
Concrete details are the factual, descriptive details that form the foundation of a piece of writing.
The creative writer has to be the opposite of the everyday person. You have to describe almost everything: an object, its shadow, a person’s slightest gesture, the temperature of the breeze, the scents in the air. You can always cut back if it’s too much, but you can’t make that decision until you have the details down on the page. And cutting is almost always easier than adding.
Concrete details invite the reader into the world you’re creating and let them see what you see, taste what you taste, hear what you hear, smell what you smell, and touch what you touch. Remember the importance of evoking the senses (see Chapter 2)?
Of course, a writer has to be selective, too. You can’t put in everything or the pace of your piece will grind to a near halt and the reader’s expression will shift from one of wonderment to a deep yawn. If you describe the bark of a tree, the shape and shine of the leaves, the root structure, or the scent of its blossoms or needles or leaves, you’ve given the reader a picture of a whole forest. However, if you fail to use the most provocative words in doing so, your writing will be greeted by that readerly yawn and the sentiment that it’s “just a tree.”
The art of choosing the concrete details to build your images is one that takes practice. The best way of testing whether you’ve got the proper balance is to read your written details out loud to someone and watch to see if they lean forward in their chair to absorb more or they begin to nod off, head drooping. If you look up from your pages or laptop to discern an open-mouthed snore, it’s time to delete some details.
The following example from the novel Confederado recounts the protagonist of the book’s first experience of combat:
As news of the impending attack spread along the line, the men, the majority of them as green and raw as Alvis, looked at each other uncertainly, as if asking the same question and then gleaning a common answer, which arrived to them all in a sinking, empty feeling that some horrible end had been foreordained and lay in the nature of all things. Their eyes, shifting from the uneasy glances they exchanged with comrades, fixed themselves upon the line of the wood below them.
When movement came, however, it was not charging, blue-clad figures but rather a scattering of rabbits and fluttering birds, even a doe, bursting forth from the edge of the trees and hurtling toward them, only to veer aside, left or right, once they apprehended the peculiar, unnatural line of men along the hilltop. Following the eruption of forest creatures occurred a strange, heavy stillness. Alvis’s heart jumped involuntarily and then momentarily seemed to cease. A chill passed along his spine and through his hair. He felt as though, even if he wanted to, he could not cry out or utter even a whisper. The only sound was that of his own pulse, steady in his head like the loud ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway outside the parlor when he napped on the horsehair sofa after Sunday dinner.
“May God give us victory,” someone muttered, the men pressed so close together it was impossible to determine who.
“And may all glory go to Him, and none to man,” Alvis rejoined, thinking of his mother, his voice sounding stronger than he felt. A soft chorus of Amens followed and those whose heads had bent briefly now raised them back to their rifles, a single hope housed within many wills.
The details in this excerpt are numerous and rich. They have to be because they’re describing a life-altering event: a young soldier’s first time preparing for live combat. It’s true that the amount of detail here slows the pacing, but that’s acceptable given that fast-paced violent action will shortly follow. Indeed, the slow pacing actually helps build the reader’s anticipation for what’s to come.
Also notable in this sequence is the fact that the reader is given access to the interior consciousness of one young soldier while also receiving a more general impression of those around him. The details of his feelings are shared but remain his own. As a result, the reader is able to experience the singular chill that passes through the protagonist but also the collective idea of “a single hope housed within many wills.”
WRITING PROMPT
Using concrete details, describe the consciousness of a single character and use it to reflect the feelings of the characters around them. Your character might be a woman at an opera, a man at a football game, or an animal of some kind experiencing a natural disaster.