Writing in a variety of genres.
When I want to take a break from writing and don’t feel like going outside for whatever reason, what I do is grab my paint brushes and retire to my garage studio. Sandwiched between my wive’s Mercedes and my Nissan, and wedged under the storage shelves, I crank out watercolors, acrylics, oils, cartoons, and sketches to relax. Some of my work can be seen, and purchased at https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/2-charles-ray.html.
Below is just a small sample of some of my recent works.
When I’m reading fiction, and I come to a passage of description where the author goes into excruciating (to me) detail; describing every wrinkle in the fabric of a shirt, or every knot hole in a tree; I skip it. If I encounter a second such passage, I skip it. The third time, unless I’m reading the greatest story ever told (and, I’m still waiting to encounter that story), I stop reading. Long, overly-detailed passages of description, whether of character, setting, or . . . well, just about anything, stop the flow of the story, and leave you suspended in a kind of nether world outside the story, and for me, this is a complete buzz kill. I suspect that’s so for most readers.
Because I don’t like too much description, when I write, I try to avoid it as much as possible. This is not to say that there is no description in my stories—a certain amount is needed to set the scene for a reader. But, if you’re smart, you will allow the reader to use his or her imagination to fill in the details, which, in turn, pulls them deeper into the story.
Here’s an example. A character enters a house late at night. You wish to show that danger lurks in the shadows in every room. Following the principle of ‘show, not tell,’ you do not say ‘danger lurks in every room,’ but nor should you go overboard in trying to show that the character is entering a dangerous place. So, how, in a case like this, do you engage the reader’s imagination?
Let’s try something like this:
“The door made a soft moaning sound as he eased it open. He stepped into the room, and the darkness seemed to reach out and grasp him by the throat, and press against his chest. The dust in the air felt like spiders crawling across his skin.”
Okay, let’s stop the description right there, and have our character do something, preferable something that evokes a sense of impending peril. If you like, you can insert short phrases later on to reinforce the sense of danger, just to keep the reader on his or her toes. Get the point? Did you get a few mental images of what lay ahead for this character? That’s how to do it.
Same thing goes for character descriptions. You don’t have to list every wart or wrinkle on a character. Paint it in broad strokes and let the reader fill in the rest, especially for supporting characters. I have a recurring character in my Al Pennyback mysteries, for example; Mom, the proprietor of the hero’s favorite restaurant. She’s known only as Mom, but some reader feedback tells me that some people think they know her. Here’s how I described her in one book in the series: “Mom sat at her usual place at the end of the counter, near the cash register, looking out over her domain like some ancient Ethiopian queen. She wore a bright yellow, one-piece dress that, despite containing enough fabric to make a roomy two-man tent, barely contained her girth.” Can you see Mom? Bet you can.
That’s it for now. Keep writing.
