#Editing Tip 2: Reading A Writer's Mind

Following on with editing tips from my writers' guide, here's the second in the series:

Is your story overloaded with description?

Do readers need to be aware of the different types of vegetation growing in every crack on the pavement, or the amount of rust on a beer can in the gutter? Or, indeed, that a character’s eyes are …a striking cornflower-blue… or …matched the rich cerulean of the Tasman Sea an hour before nightfall...? Which character is thinking in these descriptive terms? Often it isn’t a character at all, but the writer supposedly being… writerly. Description should enhance the story, not be the story. Deft touches filtered through a character’s viewpoint are what are needed, just enough for readers to gain an approximation and so allow them to mentally dress the scene from their life experiences.

For instance, if it is necessary in the story for characters to be delineated by their height don’t fall back on bald measurements. Have them step up onto a box to reach something that would be handy to most of us, or duck as they enter a room; have them be self-conscious or pragmatic about their height, just don’t state “the facts” as if it were written on a police report - or in your character notes.

Other editing tips in this November series:
Editing Tip 1: Does your story start in the right place?
Editing Tip 3: Does your story stay within the chosen viewpoint and distance?

Describing Main Characters

When it comes to describing characters, the most common question ignored by writers is ‘Do readers need the description?’
    We’ve all read passages where the main character either stands in front of the bathroom mirror, or looks in a shop’s plate-glass window and catches sight of themselves… and then gives an inch-by-inch internalisation of their features and clothing. So, you do this, do you, every time you find yourself in front of a reflective surface? No, of course you don’t. It’s a contrivance, one that makes readers roll their eyes and find something else to read.
There are various ways to give readers an indication of what your main character looks like, but some of them aren’t any better:

    Jeremy Bowden hovered in the doorway. He was six-feet-five tall, and from crew-necked sweater to patent leather shoes was dressed in black. The only concession to colour was the buckle on the belt that hugged his slim waist, handcraft silver with an inner setting of turquoise to match his dancing blue eyes.

    Take a moment to think about the words used. How high is this doorway if a six-feet-five man can hover in it? What sort of propulsion system does he have installed in the soles of those patent leather shoes? Those blue eyes – line dancing or two-step? And imagine that sort of description repeated for every character making an entrance; readers would grow old waiting for the story to get on track.
    Radio is said to have the best descriptions because listeners supply their own, and the same applies to printed fiction. All the writer needs to do is offer broad outlines and a few highlighting touches. That way the story won’t find itself peopled with women who are all beautiful and green-eyed, possessing long raven / blonde / auburn hair that feels like silk, and wearing thigh-length cashmere sweaters.
    Description of characters, as with description of places, should never be set in a block, but should be integrated among other elements to support the forward momentum of the story.

    Hesitating in the open doorway, Jeremy Bowden checked the dress of the other guests. Informal to a man, just as the invitation had specified. Despite his deep and regular breathing, a familiar rush of heat began to moisten his skin and he pulled at the neckline of his sweater to give himself some air. If he lost it here he’d end up buried in the grounds.
    The waiting apartment he’d expected; it was his due, the arrival of the bank statement a welcome bonus. He’d been given time to breathe, to stretch his limbs and replenish his tan before the courting had started. He should have made his situation plain then, but Jeremy Bowden was a name, and a name couldn’t be seen to be tarnished. Besides, he’d persuaded himself he could handle it. And then the invitation had arrived, and the limousine.
    He glanced over the antique dining table, its silver and crystal set for ten. Ten was too many, too big a job, and he recognised no one by the window, strangers every one, until Oscar Wallace turned to smile at him.
    ‘Good of you to make it, Jerry.’ Wallace paused at the laden dresser to pick up a glass to match his own. ‘Here, have some spiced wine to warm you through and I’ll introduce you around. People want to meet you.’
    People always wanted to meet him, to see the man that went with the name, but there’d been no handshake, Jeremy noted, only an offered glass hot enough to burn his fingers and scald his tongue. And he couldn’t say no, could he? It was too late to say no.

    Description, action, introspection, reminiscence, dialogue, atmosphere… each given a highlight within this partial scene.
    Description is a supporting, not a headline act, and should be used hand-in-hand with other elements. Readers don’t need Jeremy’s past life explaining in detail any more than they require to know the colour of his belt buckle. By his thoughts, his choice of action, they can read between the lines and build him, layer upon layer, into a person with a past, a person with failings, a person with a future; in short, a human being. Encouraged by the writer's guiding hand, they can attribute size, colouring and mode of dress to their individually desired level. Readers can often supply the better pictures, so let them.
   

Next: Naming is to Imbue with Life

Description is... a personal view

It is often stated that description can be brought to life by utilizing the five senses. Try this:

    Furniture was sparse, but elegant. A laden dresser stood in solitary splendour against one wall. Opposite was a stone-clad hearth, its nest of crackling logs spitting iridescent sparks everywhere but up the sooted chimney. In the centre of the narrow room was a rectangular dining table of polished walnut, its surface sheen more dazzling to the eye than the gleaming silver and crystal it supported. The unmistakable scent of roses wafted gently from an artistic arrangement surrounding the base of a candelabra waiting to be lit.

Sight, sound, smell. Three out of five isn’t a bad tally, but does it do anything for you? Note the two senses not mentioned – touch and taste – the most personal of the senses, and therein lies the clue.

Many new writers forget that description should be filtered through a character, and instead portray the vision they are carrying in their mind, the vision they would see if they were watching it materialise on a screen in front of them.

To describe a place or an object divorced from the person who is supposedly viewing it, is to insert a distance between the action on the page and the reader’s experience of it. It is to insert the Author and have the Author filtering all the action to the reader. To put it another way, it’s the difference between participating in a sport and being a spectator; if badly executed it can be the difference between participating and reading a newspaper report. Author, get off the page.

Let’s return to that block of description and consider it again. What person, what character, could be viewing that room? No domestic cleaner would describe it in such terms, no owner of the house used to its setting, no burglar with his mind only on what is worth stealing – each would have a different priority and so wouldn’t ‘see’ this particular description. We are all distracted by our own life’s events; they colour our perceptions, and personal perceptions colour what we see, how we interact with our surroundings.

So when you want to describe a space, or an object, consider first whose eyes are viewing it, then consider how they feel emotionally. It can make a big difference in the words the writer chooses, a big difference in the tone of the description.


Next: describing characters, and then we’ll marry a character to this room.

Description: Signposts in the Text

19th century novels were heavy on description - very heavy on description - as authors conveyed mental pictures of places and things most readers would never see during their entire lives.

In contrast 21st century readers are force-fed information from around the globe 24 hours a day, much of it visually. We know what a coral reef looks like; we in Europe certainly know what an erupting volcano looks like.

Straight description no longer holds the fascination for readers it once did simply because so much visual stimulation is already filed in our minds. But this is to be embraced by writers of fiction. It makes our work so much easier. We need only to set signposts in the text and readers will do our work for us, calling up images that fit.

What mental images are conjured by these single words?

stream

river

estuary

Water, okay? But what sort of water: size, colour, speed of flow? Because they were single word signposts, as a reader you will have automatically "filled in the blanks". Perhaps stream brought an image of a narrow stretch of water - and grassy banks, or reeds, or leaves being carried on its surface. Perhaps river brought an image of a wider, deeper, stretch of water, perhaps with a faster flow - and a small boat, water fowl, a bridge. Perhaps estuary... you get the idea.

However, there are drawbacks to doing this. The images I've given came from a British landscape because that's the landscape I live in; I interact with it every day. If you are reading this in Malaysia, or Canada, or Argentina, your images will be different because without supporting signposts readers' minds automatically default to their own normality. So do bear this in mind.

Over the next few posts I'll be discussing Description in more detail, including using supporting signposts, and how to use description to create atmosphere and tone.

Description is a necessary part of building a world experience for readers, but it should not swamp them. Pick the right descriptive word and an entire retinue of images follows on behind.