Descriptions without Describing

If there is something that drives me crazy when I’m reading it’s the “looking in the mirror” description trope used by far too many writers. 

Rise Up! Break the habit! Our characters deserve better!

“She looked down at her small, 5’4” body and sighed. With a practiced gesture she moved her long, curly black waves over her shoulder, bending to pick up the step-stool. By stretching just right she could still just barely reach the glasses, and had just finished getting them down when her supervisor walked in.”

Not a great description. Yes. we know her height, hair color/length. I could probably have thrown in her eye color. We can tell she’s a bit annoyed at being so short, and she practices moves to draw people’s eyes away from her short stature. Yes. It’s description. But it’s stifling. Wouldn’t you agree?

Try this. Try describing your character simply by the actions that portray their physicality. This character is a shorter person. She needs a step stool. Or she wears high heels. I could say,

“Knowing the wine glasses were out of reach, Brenda went to get the dreaded step-stool. She kicked off her Louboutin’s and stomped up the three steps. “Stupid thing!” Carefully placing the glasses on the granite counter beside her, she had just about finished when her supervisor came into the room.”

Says the same thing in an entirely different way. In fact, you can fit a lot more interesting details in when you free yourself from having to Show description. Tell me what your character does. How your character moves about in the world. How they are awkward, or comfortable, in their own skin. How they trip over their own feet because they’re a teenager just getting used to their rapidly growing bodies, rather then saying “He is 13.”

A good practice exercise for this is to go to the mall, park, baseball game...wherever there are lots of people doing lots of random things. Pick two or three and write exactly what they are doing. How they are doing it. How many steps it took the really tall man to get from his truck to the porta-potty. How hard the short woman had to strain to lift her child up to the monkey bars. How the old woman with the cane braced herself against the car to load her groceries into the back seat. One bag at a time.

You don’t need to know that he was a 45 year old man with salt and pepper hair, blue eyes and a beer gut. That can come out later. When you show him at home in front of his tv, drinking a 6-pack.

Our readers are pretty smart. And they have imagination. It’s far more important for the reader to understand how a character will react in a situation, then to know how their hair is going to look.

So here’s your assignment class! Take the following description and change it, any way you want (just keep the essence the same), using tips I showed you.

“He couldn’t believe it. 42 years old. Oh well. At least his hair wasn’t too grey. He turned away from the bathroom mirror, feeling for his thick glasses. Shambling out to his lounger, he eased his massive body into the broken springs and opened a fresh bag of chips. Maybe this year he would lose the weight.”

Description - Fairy Tail

    And now, you poor things, because no one sent me a description of their own, I give you one of mine. The opening to my novel, FAIRY TAIL. Rip away...    

     It looked like a celebration.

     Elphamé, the heart of Faerie, was awash in fairy light, from sparks that floated above the trees to hundreds of colored lanterns, casting a rainbow ribbon of light over the flowers in the Queen’s garden. The magnolia trees were beginning to shed their blossoms and the grass was littered with soft, white petals that fluttered about in a non-existent breeze, their fragrance perfuming the air. 

     The sisters sat on the grass by the fish pond where dozens of paper boats floated, from three-masted sailing ships with dragonfly sails to row-boats with little oars carved from twigs, each one a miniature masterpiece. 

     Music came from inside, though who played was anyone’s guess, for they were hidden behind the upper screens while below the grand ballroom was hung with wreaths of flowers and ribbons, the whole place smelling of a warm autumn night and filled to capacity with all of Faerie.

Description - a critique

I looked straight down onto a small barn and its yard, snugged between the castle and its wall. The pigs in the sty were mere lumps in their mud. Beyond the wall, the western side of Wodenberg clung to the steeper part of the mountain’s slope in a jumble of thatched roofs. It wasn’t far to the city wall, on this side of the castle. 
I don't think you need that last bit - but note my opinion is based on just this short excerpt. You know best.

On my left, southward, the city spread out. North and ward, to the right, a saddle of rock connected the castle’s promontory to Mount Woden. That saddle was called the Rückenstein, and it was full of barracks for the city garrison. The city wall looped around it, studded with towers, guarding to guard Castle Kaltkern’s back., and oOutside the wall the terrain ran rough and bare. Too thin for trees or farming. Some sheep dotted what grass there was.
Here's where I'd try to throw in some action, something to break up the description - unless this work is intended for an adult audience in which case they will probably have more patience. And since we have a first person narrator, it might be interesting to her his/her thoughts about what is being described. As it is the description sounds like a distant third.

Mount Woden, outside the city and its foulburg, was a wild thing under a deep pine blanket. The forest gave way to fields where the slope gentled out to the north and west, and tThose muddy brown fields were covered now with a layer of dingy white tents and a haze of campfire smoke. The tents seemed to run for miles.

This is a good descriptive passage. I got a picture in my mind of this place; a little rugged, poor, but with a substantial castle, a garrison, and all these white tents on a muddy field (hmm). The only thing I'll reiterate is that I'd like more voice associated with the description, especially since this is first person pov. Is this the first time the narrator has come to Wodenberg? What does he/ she think about the place? Adding more voice could easily turn good into great. 

What do you guys think? 

And thank you L. Blankenship for this submission!

Description - The Dome

"From two-thousand feet, where Claudette Saunders was taking a flying lesson, the town of Chester's Mill gleamed in the morning light like something freshly made and just set down. Cars trundled along Main Street, flashing up winks of sun. The steeple of the Congo Church looked sharp enough to pierce the unblemished sky. The sun raced along the surface of the Prestile Stream as the Seneca V overflew it, both plane and water cutting the  town on the same diagonal course."

I love the comparison of the town to something gleaming and "freshly made" and how the first sentence immediately suggests to me that our narrator may be hinting at something... interesting. Either the town is indeed like something "freshly made and just set down," or, it is not. And really, where do cars trundle? Probably ONLY in Chester Mills. Some mythical small town in some northwest corner of  Maine - my fair state.

It also happens to be the home state of the author, Stephen King, and this first paragraph is from his novel, THE DOME. If you like Stephen King I'll wager you'll like this. Both as a writer and and a reader.

Description - first page

"From two-thousand feet, where Claudette Saunders was taking a flying lesson, the town of Chester's Mill gleamed in the morning light like something freshly made and just set down. Cars trundled along Main Street, flashing up winks of sun. The steeple of the Congo Church looked sharp enough to pierce the unblemished sky. The sun raced along the surface of the Prestile Stream as the Seneca V overflew it, both plane and water cutting the  town on the same diagonal course."


Here is a short descriptive passage written by someone who shall, for the moment, remain nameless. What I would like you all to do is read it a few times and tell me what you think. What do you like about this? What sense about the story do you get from this beginning? And if you do know who wrote this, keep it to yourself for the moment. I'd like to hear everyone's thoughts on this paragraph before I reveal the author.

I have a few thoughts about it but I'd like to hear what you think first.

Oh, and I'm still open to critiquing anyone's descriptive paragraph/bit or if you have one you're proud of send it to me and I'll post it.

the boring bits and what to do with them

I have read upon more than one occasion that the best way to keep your readers interested is to leave out the boring bits. Usually this means description because it’s the one place where nothing is happening. Dialogue and action move the story forward but description is like a rest area where you’re supposed to enjoy the scenery. So the question becomes how do we make our descriptive passages interesting, because it goes without saying we can’t just do away with description altogether.

Let’s look at an example.

“Alone in his flat, Marco constructs tiny rooms from scraps of paper. Hallways and doors crafted from pages of books and bits of blueprint, pieces of wallpaper and fragments of letters.

He composes chambers that lead into others that Celia has created. Stairs that wind around her halls.”

From THE NIGHT CIRCUS by Erin Morgenstern

This is a description of what Marco makes and while it might not make as much sense to those who haven’t read the book (which I highly recommend, by the way) you can still see how lovely it is, hear the cadence of the words, perhaps even picture what Marco is making.

The trick then is making our descriptions come alive with voice. I don’t know about you but I can hear the longing in that short little passage and I get the feeling we’re talking about more than architecture. This is how to make your descriptions stand out, be memorable, and above all, be interesting.

Now it’s your turn. Think you have a short descriptive passage worthy of showing off? Something you’re proud of having written? If so we’d love for you to share it in the comments. Or maybe you have one you’d like help making sparkle. In that case send it to unicornbellsubmissions@gmail.com and I’ll critique it on Tuesday. 500 words or less, please and thank you in advance for your submissions. Remember, critiquing helps all of us :) 

submission #5

Title: Unnamed
Genre: Space Opera

His ship landed in the early morning hours. Eleena watched the lights and smoke from her window until the air cleared. Things grew calm and eerily silent. The lunch hour came and went, but no one brought any news to her. She slumped against the window casing and waited.

A commotion below caused her heart rate to quicken. The large metal gates that enclosed the courtyard opened to let the soldiers strut in. People rushed to their doors to watch and the air filled with cheers. The black and red leather armor had been cleaned until it shone in the afternoon light. Each man carried his helmet and waved to the crowd. Eleena gripped the velvet curtain for ten minutes of parading men, but the warrior king was still unaccounted for.  Another ten minutes passed before he walked through the archway—conqueror of worlds, destroyer of lives, and her husband.

The years of fear and hate evaporated in the wake of relief at seeing him whole and unharmed. The unwelcome truth glared at her in the form of weak knees and shaking hands. His absence had taught her what her true feelings really were. She longed for him to reach out to her, touch her, hold her. She had fallen in love with the enemy.

I can't quite pinpoint why but this passage feels very passive to me, even though it isn't really. After reading it a few times I think what I want is to know more about this backstory the author has condensed into a few paragraphs. Because it sounds intriguing. How did Eleena come to be the wife of the enemy? What was her life before she married? And who the heck is this destroyer dude? THAT sounds as interesting as Eleena's present life.

Now, what does everyone else thing about this excerpt? Care to help the author out? 

submission #2 & 3

#2

   Our village was small, only eleven families, (is the fact that the village is small important? Even if it is, I wonder if there might be a better place for this information since it doesn't seem to have much to do with this scene - imho.) so ten men hopped the fence to the corral. I followed, the brand held high over my head as I moved through the nervous herd, but I had erased enough of my scent that they were fooled. (This does not necessarily follow the preceding. How about a period after herd and then: Luckily I had erased enough of my scent to fool the herd into complacency.) With my body and free arm, I shoved flanks and elbowed ribs, pressing my way through. I searched for my father’s brand, the shape of a man’s hand, on each doe. When I found the first, she had two fawns cowering under her legs. Twins. One still with a fully white winter coat, the other with a few spots of dark showing through.

   Nothing quite prepares you for the scream.

   With my hip, I held one captive against its mother’s side as I branded the other fawn. The moment the hot stone burned through the thick, winter-coat and touched skin, the fawn shrieked and bolted. Instantly, the surrounding deer lunged and shoved, but I swung the brand over my head, twisted, and brought it down on the haunch of the second fawn. The second scream is was as bad as the first.

   The doe pushed after her two babies as they darted through the restless herd. Near the edge, other men and boys grabbed the limping fawns by the scruff of their necks, cracked the gate, and allowed the twins and their mother escape the corral. As their white coats blended into the snowy forest and disappeared, I whispered a quick prayer to Ovis, god of the forest, to protect them. Tomorrow night I would leave an offering of deer tendon for him at the forest shrine.

Aside from single comment above, this is a good description of the branding event and the reference to Ovis tells us that this is a different world than the one we know. I'm also curious about why the doe and her fawns were released. However I also wonder whether it would be so easy for a single person to hold a struggling fawn in order to brand it. I only say this because I work at a vet and it can sometimes take three people to hold an uncooperative dog for a nail trim and sometimes even then we can't do it.

#3

From MINGLED, YA paranomal dystopian. 

Lead in: Macie just snuck (yeah, spell check doesn't like this word but my old American Heritage dictionary says it's a word so poo on spell check) out the house and met up with Thane, her best friend and crush. The author would like to know if this kissing scene works - or not.

   “You bleed for the undead now, but that can change when you graduate.  I can take care of you.  In a way, I always wanted to, ever since I met you.  We’re not kids anymore.  I dared you to come tonight because you need to know how I really feel about you.  Maybe see how you feel…”

   I finally took a breath.  Words found their way out unfiltered, “I…you…me…this…how…”

   He cut me off with a kiss.  Just a light brush of his soft lips against mine.  It was unexpected, unbelievable and beautiful.  By some instinct, I closed my eyes and my lips parted, allowing him to further the kiss into something more passionate.  At least I hoped it was passion.  It felt like fire brewing deep within my belly, flaming up to my heart and spreading wild and fierce to every part of me.  My fingertips tingled, my

breaths, shallow for the rare second our lips parted.  His hand left my chin.  His long arms wrapped around my waist, pulling our bodies closer together.  I’d spent many nights dreaming of what this moment would be like.  None of those fantasies prepared me for the heat, the blaze threatening to consume me from the inside out.

Ordinarily the more inner dialogue the better, but for some reason, here I want less. I just want to know how this kiss feels because let's face it, we don't think too much when we kissing, there is no thought - or very little. A kiss is a sensation and the only time it gets analyzed is after it's over. Here's how I'd change this:

“You bleed for the undead now, but that can (can or will? Just asking) change when you graduate.  I can take care of you.  In a way, I always wanted to, ever since I met you.  We’re not kids anymore.  I dared you to come tonight because you need to know how I really feel about you.  Maybe see how you feel…” His speech here feels a little awkward and stilted, especially in light of the fact he's about to kiss her but it also might make more sense if I'd read what came before.

   I finally took a breath.  Words found their way out unfiltered, “I…you…me…this…how…”

   His kiss silenced my words. Just a light brush of his soft lips against mine. I closed my eyes and my lips parted, wanting more. It felt like fire brewing deep within my belly, flaming up to my heart and spreading wild and fierce to every part of me.  My fingertips tingled, my breath came shallow, and when he pulled me closer I leaned in, wanting to be consumed by that blaze.

That's not perfect either - far from it - but you get the idea. 

Now, what about the rest of you? What do you think would make this kiss blaze a little hotter?

Submission #1

From MINGLED, YA paranomal dystopian.  

Chapter One

   I wanted to be knee deep in Mr. McGrubb’s Advanced Soil Dynamics class.  Maybe detention.  Anywhere else, except where I was. I like this beginning. Mr. McGrubb's Advanced Soil Dynamics class sounds like an absolute bore and yet, our narrator wishes he/she were there.

   I let out a sigh, tucking loose strands of hair behind my ear.  My fingertips slipped over the soft Collective Communications tag looped behind my ear.  The gelatinous (ick) material was thin as a whisper and molded flush to my ear, hardly noticeable. (molded to my ear or flush to my ear would be better, I think, and I don't think you need hardly noticeable since you've already stated that it's thin as a whisper - imho)  A tiny microchip and fiber optic wiring made it possible to open a private comms with any tagged person within a ten mile radius.  Mine was the cheap kind, given to the less fortunate.  More advanced models included an extension (does that extend the range?) and a holographic eye visor that curved with the eye, alloweding the user to view the person they spoke to.  With my resident advisor (should be adviser) shrilling (does this mean she's yakking annoyingly or screaming?) away, I was thankful I couldn’t see her.   She went on about how excited I should be to finally give blood for the Collective, even if I was three years later than most girls.  That last part wasn’t necessary, but I expected no less from Whitley (the adviser, I assume?).  She frothed at the mouth that we were in a Special year, that I could be chosen, though she’d be a better choice. (There's a lot of world building stuff going on here that doesn't quite make sense yet so I wonder if going a little slower might help? Or maybe throw in some explanations.) I powered down my CCT, my ear ringing from her screeching during our private comms.  I didn’t need a lecture any more than I wanted to hand my blood over to feed some undead citizen.  And the last thing I wanted was a chance to be a Special.

The last two lines are kick-ass. This is what makes me want to read more, find out what it means to be Special. But prior to this there's a lot of stuff - description - about hardware and and I wonder if it's all necessary or if some of it can be worked in a little later or more gradually so that this new world unfolds a little more slowly. I might even actually show what Whitley is saying because dialogue here could do a couple of things: #1 is show how annoying Whitley is and why our narrator doesn't like her, #2 is give information (which is always more interesting through dialogue rather than telling), and #3 is I think those last two lines will be even more kick-ass after the mostly one way conversation. 

But that's just my opinion. What do you guys think? What would make this better?