Below are notes that demonstrate ways to bring sensory details to your descriptive/narrative writing.
Showing and not Telling
From “Under the Influence” by Scott Russell Sanders (creative nonfiction—personal narrative):
In the perennial present of memory, I slip into the garage or barn to see my father tipping back the flat green bottles of wine, the brown cylinders of whiskey, the cans of beer disguised in paper bags. His Adam’s apple bobs, the liquid gurgles, he wipes the sandy-haired back of a hand over his lips, and then, his bloodshot gaze bumping into me, he stashes the bottle or can inside his jacket, under the workbench, between two bales of hay, and we both pretend the moment has not occurred.
• What can you infer about the narrator and the narrator’s father?
• Why do they each “pretend the moment has not occurred”?
• How many memories is this passage describing?
• Which senses are used to create these memories?
• Notice the number of sentences.
• Notice the attention to concrete detail.
Compare the above “showing” to the below “telling”:
My father was an alcoholic. He often hid his drink. I felt ashamed of his alcoholism and he felt embarrassed.
• This latter passage—three sentences—is, of course, the “telling” that our writing instructors warned us not to do.
• When is “telling” useful? When should writers try to “show vs. tell”?
Creating a Scene
Three fundamental techniques for creating a scene:
1. Use of detail and description, like in the excerpt from “Under the Influence”
2. Characterization through dialogue
3. Characterization through action
Characterization through Dialogue
From Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs (creative nonfiction—memoir):
Hope was in her nightgown clutching Freud to her chest.
“What are you doing with the poor cat?”
She stepped inside the room and Natalie closed the door. “Freud’s not well,” Hope said. Her face was pained, deeply concerned.
Quickly, I scanned the cat for signs of a fight—dried blood on its fur, a chunk of ear missing. “She looks fine,” I said.
“She’s not fine,” Hope snapped. “I think she’s dying.”
“Oh, no,” Natalie said, climbing back into bed, the sheet twisted through her legs. “[...] Your cat is fine.”
“No, she’s not. She’s dying. She told me.”
[...] “What?”
“She woke me up fifteen minutes ago. I was dreaming about her, dreaming that she was eaten by a white glob. It was just awful, you guys. It was a nightmare. And then all
of a sudden, I woke up and she was curled up right next to my face. Purring.”
“Hope, what are you talking about?” Natalie lay a pillow over her head, covering her eyes.
“Don’t you guys get it?”
“Get what?” I said. “Get that you’ve finally gone completely insane?”
“Freud was sending me a message through my dreams. She was telling me that’s she’s dying.”
Hope was trembling and Freud struggled to break free of her grasp. But Hope kept moving her arms in such a way that they cat was trapped.
• What can you tell about the relationship between Hope, Natalie, and the narrator, Augusten, based on this short passage?
• What does the dialogue tell readers about Hope? How might you describe Hope?
Characterization through Action
From “Drink It” by Patricia Ann McNair (creative nonfiction—personal narrative):
Alone in the [school counselor’s] office, I took a swallow of cold coffee. It tasted like rusted metal, nearly impossible to keep down. One time when I was six or seven, I’d been painting with one of those long, skinny tins of watercolors. I filled a drinking glass with water to clean my brush. The color of the water became increasingly brown, and when I stirred it up, it developed a frothy head like root beer. Allen loved root beer, and—to be funny, I thought—I told him that’s what this was.
“Drink it.” I said. He took a big swig, and, as soon as he tasted it, spit it out. He looked at me through his glasses, the effect of my betrayal in his eyes.
While I waited for my mother in the counselor’s office, I remembered that look. I lifted the foul cup of oily cold coffee. “Drink it,” I said. And, I did.
• What emotions are conveyed through the action, specifically, the narrator’s choice to drink the oily coffee?
Here’s examples of scene settings from The Truth of the Matter:
What is a scene? A scene is the opposite of a still photograph. In a scene, detail, sensory information, and actions (including dialogue) combine to re-create a sense of movement. A scene is when characters in actual space take concrete actions for a set period of time.
A scene includes:
-description of setting: My grandmother’s floral couch and loveseat were covered in plastic. On the walls hung pictures of cats painted onto ceramic plates. Doilies covered the end stands, and on top of these, the strange, motionless dolls that my grandmother had collected since she was nine.
-the names of the people in the room: My Grandmother Rose sat in the loveseat with her hands folded in her lap while my father paced the room. I stood, silent and unnoticed, in the doorway to the kitchen.
-a good scene often includes the actions: After Dad didn’t say anything for a while, Grandma Rose left her perch on the sofa and lifted a flower vase and moved it beside a doll with brown hair and a white dress. Over time, curious hands had worn away the artificial doll hair so that parts of the orange plastic scalp were visible.
-important facial expressions: “About Lucinda,” my grandmother said, returning to the loveseat. Dad winced when my grandmother mentioned my mother. “Not now, Mom.” Dad stopped pacing for a second and glared at her.
-and scenes often convey some sense of change: Grandma Rose seemed to sink into the loveseat the longer my Dad paced the room.
- Use your senses to bring a scene to life. It might be vivid in your head, but you must show your scene to your readers. Ask yourself, what exactly did I or my characters:
hear?
taste?
touch?
smell?
see?
-It is the writer’s job to recall or create vivid details and descriptions, especially those that make a story or memory unique to readers.
Examples:
-Josie had a bald spot the size of a quarter on top of her head.
-My step-mother pushed the + on the remote control to block out the sound of my brother banging up the basement stairs.
- His hair smelled like musty old bread.
-Neal’s legs were skinny and frail, like a newborn calf’s. I felt like I could bend him over my knee and break him in half.
-My family had a big dinner.
-Or:
Aunt Grace swept out of her kitchen with trays of turkey, baked ham, whipped potatoes, plates of green beans and almonds, sweet potato and marshmallow casserole, fruit salad, green salad, sweet and sour pickle wedges, black olives, sourdough rolls, and so many desserts made by overweight aunts in dress pants that we feared her antique dining room table would buckle under the heavy load.