It's honestly the story of my life. I can never remember the color of the shirt my husband is wearing that day. I didn't even realize he has two different colors of eyes (one brown, one blue!) until someone pointed it out after several months of dating. And directions? I hate that I am that directionally-challenged girl. But I am improving. I'll at least admit that.
While reading another writing help book today, I was taught the necessary nature of a writer. If I am to go on a walk, I should be able to describe random scenery with endearing detail. Or at least have the ability to explain away a misplaced item--fabricate a story, create my own characters. And I am pretty good with the limited scope details. But continuous observation? I'm eons away from where I should be.
But there has been one aspect of my life that even an observationally challenged writer like me will notice. And that would be redecorating.
But before you roll your eyes (you mean I'm going domestic on you??), I beg, once more, for a morsel of your patience. My goal with this post is to demonstrate the rewards of observation. And my goal as a writer is to be able to depict these observations with skill, with intrigue, and with proper diction.
So I give you three pictures. A before, during, and after. This is our kitchen. We're remodeling an auction home. And this is probably a stretch for my explanation, but my hope is to be able to depict these scenarios in my writing, and have the same impact I hope these pictures create. I'm going to practice observing. Every day! I have a new goal. And I turn it to you. What is your natural observation ability? And how would you increase it to perfect your story?
oh wow! what a nice kitchen! (and I thought it looked nice to begin w/.)
ReplyDeleteObservation, blah blah blah. You got me on that one. Basically you're talking about setting. well, I could care less. Tell me the characters are in a house. I know what a house looks like. You don't have to describe it to me. Tell me they're outside. Okay. I know what outside looks like. Don't waste my time telling me about the trees and grass unless they are *important* somehow.
I am in the vast minority. Like, the 1st percentile minority. The biggest gripes I get from readers is, "Setting! Show it to me!" Drives me nuts. I can't create setting in my head. So I usually ask them, "Well, what do you think it looks like?" And they go off, telling me the colors, the size, the weather, the plants. And I write down what they said. :)
But if I pick up a book and it's full of setting--I skip it. Please. Give me the dialogue, the action. That's all I care about.
I know, I know! Nobody agrees w/ me! LOL.
Ah, but I do agree with you, Tamara. That's the trouble! The last book I read, I got lazy and skimmed all the action/scenery descriptions in the second half of the book. I want to be able to describe something--but with finesse. So that a reader hardly knows I'm telling them their setting. Paragraph after paragraph with endless description utterly devoid of dialogue? I'd rather read a court transcript.
ReplyDeleteI sure hope I have found the balance in these things. I do open with setting sometimes but I also open with dialouge, just however the mood strikes me.
ReplyDeleteas for the kitchen trilogy how about this.
Part 1.
The woman in the burgundy shirt glanced about the bare pantry. "No sign of Tamara's ants here."
Part 2.
"Lets tear the place apart anyway," suggested her husband. And it was done.
Part 3.
Tile floors and marble countertops beat linoleum and particle board any day of the week.
Sorry its late, did I observe stuff good?
I agree that too much description (especially of a setting) can sometimes just bog me down. I do like a healthy dose of describing someone's thought process-- I find that much more interesting, particularly if it's different than how I would feel/think about something.
ReplyDeleteIt was fascinating reading Margaret Atwood's Cat's Eye, because she kept describing scents. How in the world do you describe a scent? And then describe twenty different ones and be really good at it each time??? I was blown away. I could never do that. (The closest I might get would be to say something totally obvious and pretty pointless like, "The frying bacon smelled good." Dog lame.)
David, part 1 had me cracking up. I considered trying to describe the pictures, but like I said, I'm pretty pathetic at it. Thanks for sharing how it can be done with wit and summary.
ReplyDeleteAlanna, you probably saw on Goodreads how I just finished The Power of point of View. Alicia Rasley suggests picking a specific sense and using that as the dominant way a character observes the world. Looks like Atwood chose scent for her one character. That's impressive. I'm with you. Not used to describing smells with words. Since a large part of me is an auditory learner, I was considering creating a character who was that way too--only heightened. I think it would be at least a smidgen natural for me.
My editor kept saying about my dialogue, Give me a visual, what are the characters doing as they're speaking, so I'd write something like:
ReplyDeleteMary leaned across the sink and opened the window. "You'll see, Honey, I'm going to make The Ethos the best book ever. Do you believe I can do it?"
Her husband grabbed a paper towel and wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Uh, sure, Mary...I believe in you. Can you shut that window, let's use the air. It's already 90 degrees out there."
Before I would have just had the dialogue, so I really liked how it helped the visual, and also allows the opportunity to explore character development a bit more. ie, how does Mary's husband really feel about this? He seems less than enthusiastic, etc etc. And it's a painless way to get in a bit of description.
LOL. You're the best, Karen. Loved your response. I LOVE using dialogue descriptors. It's probably one of my favorite parts of writing except for the dialogue itself.
ReplyDeleteDavid, I seriously busted up laughing when I read your post.
ReplyDeleteYour kitchen looks great! You did such a great job! :) And I love your blog.
ReplyDelete