At the risk of sounding like a snob, I have a confession to make. I adore literary writing.
Literary books often get a bad rap, because let’s face it,
they can be dense and slow-moving. But if you can get past that, you’ll find
the writing often sings with fresh and unexpected imagery and beautiful turns
of phrase.
Searching for the right adjective, the right word is like
digging in the sand. Easy just to shovel up a spadeful and fling it in the
bucket without thinking too hard about it. It takes an artist to dig for the
treasure in every turn of phrase, every description, refusing to settle for the
stale or mundane.
Nothing turns me off a book quicker than overused turns of
phrase. To me it shows a lack of care for craftsmanship. And if you, the
author, don’t care about the words you choose, why should I invest in those
words as a reader?
Here are some ideas for keeping your descriptions fresh.
1. Eliminate clichés.
Clichés have become cliché for a reason. When first coined,
these turns of phrase were considered so dazzlingly original, so apt, that they
became wildly popular. Now they’re overused because successive generations of
writers have been too lazy to reach for their own original and apt expressions.
Read through your manuscript. Have you used any clichés like
these? Thin as a rail. Neat as a pin. Fresh as a daisy. Clear as crystal.
Or these? Her hands were cold as ice. His heart beat like
a drum.
Yawn.
Get out your pruning shears. Lop those suckers out of your
manuscript. Now it’s time to reinvigorate your descriptions.
2. Brainstorm alternatives.
Okay, so rails are thin. What else is thin? Don’t censor
yourself. As fast as you can, write a list of a dozen alternative ideas.
Now have a look back over what you’ve written. Do any of
these alternate descriptions have additional shades of meaning that may suggest
something else about your character, other than mere physical thinness?
For example – Thin as a dandelion stem. A dandelion is a pretty weed. Could you imagine using
this description for an emotionally fragile young girl who, although fresh and
lovely, sees herself as worthless?
What about this? Thin as a kite string. A kite string snaps with brisk energy. This description would be fitting for a playful boy.
Or this. Thin as the leather-bound ledger she kept on her
desk. I’m picturing a woman who is precise
and particular, and somewhat lacking in humor.
See how this sort of imagery enriches your writing? Suddenly
your description is doing double-duty. You’ve harnessed an obvious physical
characteristic and used it to give subtle insights into character.
3. Make new connections.
When describing an object or setting, ask yourself what the
image reminds you of. The obvious parallels are always the first to spring to
mind. Shadows reached across the path like fingers. The wind moaned in the
eaves. Now think again. What unexpected
associations can you conjure?
Shadow and moon-fall braided themselves across the path.
A bossy wind scolded at his window, clucking and fussing
amongst the leaves. Can you picture the
wind as an outspoken housewife?
In Katy Popa’s beautiful book, The Feast of Saint Bertie,
she describes the “marigold flames”
consuming her protagonist’s house. Comparing something so ravaging to a flower
is out-of-the-ordinary. But suddenly, through those words, we see the fire as a
thing of unexpected beauty. Can’t you just picture the vivid orange-yellow of
those flames?
One of my favorite examples is from The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. He describes a person sitting on
the step in a pair of “decomposing
shoes.”
He could have described the shoes as worn-out, moldering,
wet, smelly, or falling-apart. Instead he selected one unusual word that sums
up all of these things in a powerful word-picture. What’s more, this one detail
gives us instant insight into the character, revealing more about them than
could have been achieved in a page of more mundane description.
4. Read poetry.
In a poem, every word counts. Therefore, the poet chooses
each word with care, often creating word pictures of startling originality and
simplicity as a result.
How about these beautiful lines by poet Brook Emery, taken
from her poem “Night”?
Expectation stitches me to the dark, makes silence that
can be touched.
During the day rain falls as light, at night it falls as
sound
Like a fish twisting against the line
I’m drawn into the sharp transactions of the light.
As you read poetry, you’ll train yourself to see the world
in new ways, forming new associations that may not previously have occurred to
you.
5. Grow your vocabulary.
Be intentional about it. The best way to do this is by
reading widely and recording new words in a notebook. If you come across a word
you don’t know, look it up. Write it down. The more words you know, the more
you shades of nuance you’ll have access to in your writing.
But do all of this with one important caveat. Namely:
6. Don’t fall prey to purple prose.
The true power of literary description lies in its
simplicity and restraint. One truly apt word, one lean and carefully crafted
sentence is more powerful than a dozen overused phrases.
Aussie writer Tim Winton is a master at this. Here are some
of his lines from “Dirt Music” and “The Turning”:
The girl’s “lank blond hair
fretted in the wind.”
The man’s “crow’s feet like
knife cuts.”
The fire “sucked the air from
the room and danced before him like a thought just out of reach.”
The blood “runs thin as
copper wire in his veins.”
His breath “aglow like a coal
in his chest.”
The night is “hot and salted
with stars.”
Your turn. What beautiful turns of phrase have you
uncovered recently?
Image courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net
Karen Schravemade lives in Australia. When she's not chasing after two small boys or gazing at her brand-new baby girl, she spends her spare minutes daydreaming about the intricate lives of characters who don't actually exist. Find her on her website, on Twitter or getting creative over at her mummy blog.
