Word Pictures by Jeanette-Marie Mirich

Jeanette-Marie Mirich

Writing descriptions that aren't too flowery and that invite your reader deeply into the story can be tricky. Our guest today, Jeanette-Marie Mirich, has some tips for painting word pictures that help readers experience the story setting with the characters. Read on! ~ Annette



Words have always been part of my life. My father, a poet, strung words together like a master jeweler creates a pearl necklace. Language came easily to me until this winter, when I was on a tour of the Holy Land.

As we walked where Jesus did, I was overcome with emotion. While roaming the Judean hills, words slipped through my grasp like fragile dreams. But I want to communicate the images that linger in my mind of the wilderness of desert, boats on the Sea of Galilee, and the massive rock where Masada broods.

How do I pass on this experience? There are several elements to bringing the world you’ve observed or created to others. I’ll share three.

1. Observation: A distant perspective. The journalist in a safe, familiar place.

I come to a landscape like a pirate scanning an island from his ship. He has studied charts and maps, and from a distance, he sweeps the inlets with his spyglass.

To prepare for our Israel adventure we read H.V. Morton’s travel book, In the Footsteps of the Master, Twain’s book, Innocents Abroad, maps, and scripture before setting foot on the Golan Heights.

When we arrived, thunder echoed above the churning Mediterranean Sea as January rain slanted down and filled the wadis with muddy water.

However, driving from the airport to our hotel, I couldn’t smell the rain. The feel for the land eluded me until icy rain trickled down my collar and the shrieking wind assaulted my ears. We want to pass that experience along in our writing.

2. Exploration: Drawing a reader closer to the environment. Get out of the boat.

My imaginary pirate reaches a tropical beach and when his/her bare feet hit the sand, s/he pockets the spy glass (or travel guide) to begin a more intimate experience.

The adventure of walking with Lucy into C.S. Lewis’s wardrobe captures us. Brushing the fur coats as we pass makes it real.
Standing at the site where the Lord sought refuge from the hordes of people that pressed on him, I wrote word impressions in a pocket notebook. I scribbled “buses, head-to-tail with their lookalike competitors, puffed black smoke” with a line for a poem.
The framework of our tale would be a one-dimensional backdrop if we failed to unearth the minutia that makes a place unique. I want to fabricate anticipation when designing a setting.

How careful research affects a writer's descriptions for the reader's benefit. #amwriting #amreading @MirichMarie

3. Discovery: Writing archeology or getting dirty as you excavate for hidden treasure.

That means digging into research. The sand on the eastern shore of Lake Michigan is soft, the crystals curved and used for castings. The sand near Cannon Beach in Oregon is cream, gray, and cold. Its sharp edges grind into your toes and leave a gray residue. We, like Lucy, are pulled further in when our senses are activated.

From seeing the golden stones of Jerusalem as I enter the city (observation) to walking along the cobbled streets made smooth by millions of footsteps (exploration), I am drawing closer. When I cover my head with a scratchy scarf, finger my ragged-edged bit of paper as I weave my prayers into the sun-warmed wailing wall, I’m experiencing and discovering life.

Life, filled with textures and smells, eerie sounds of language, the taste of salt when we walk near the Dead Sea, and the sight of weeping pilgrims invades my writing, and I pray, the reader’s hearts.

Enjoy letting words reveal the sensory gifts God has given to draw readers deeper into your story world.

Your turn: Have you found a good balance for writing description that engages your reader's senses? What are your favorite methods?

~~~~~

The Last Roses

When Delilah Morgan sends a jaywalking deer over an embankment, her peaceful life takes a leap into chaos. As autumn winds howl, a phone call from Lyle Henderson, the man she loves but hesitates to marry, interrupts her misery.

The Last Roses, the second novel in the D.B. Burns mystery series, finds Delilah and Lyle encountering a trail of rumors, a break-in at Lyle’s remote cabin and mayhem as they traverse North Carolina from Piedmont to mountains. Life returns to almost normal in their small Kentucky town until an envious professor besmirches Delilah’s deceased husband’s character. Plans to clear her Harry’s name are hijacked by Delilah’s goddaughter’s kidnapping.

George Salas’ friends from his clandestine days arrive to seek the kidnappers. Will they find the trafficking ring and rescue Savannah Hudson before she disappears in the underworld of vice?

Against the admonition of the local sheriff, Delilah begins to interview families whose daughters have disappeared. Her involvement leads to her kidnapping and to villains intent on frying her like bacon.

~~~~~

“Have bags will travel” should be the motto of Jeanette-Marie Mirich’s life. She moved twenty-two times before settling in her first home. An Oregonian by birth, Jeanette has swum in the Ligurian Sea, collected shells and sea glass along the Indian Ocean, Pacific, Atlantic, Caribbean Oceans, Straits of Malacca, Gulf of Mexico and the Andaman Sea. Her peripatetic lifestyle is courtesy of the U.S. Air Force and her husband’s medical training. Passionate about needs in the third world after living in Thailand during her husband’s deployment, she has accompanied her husband on dozens of medical mission trips. Mother of three, Grammy to thirteen exceptional grandchildren, she travels from her Kentucky home to an Oregon cabin, scribbling poems and short stories as well as writing novels. Connect at https://jeanette-mariemirich.com/ or on Facebook or Twitter.

Those Good Old Classics by Heidi Chiavaroli

Heidi Chiavaroli

Confession time.

Up until recently I wasn’t much of a fan of classic literature. I read the Spark Notes for A Tale of Two Cities in high school, have forced my way through one Jane Austen novel (please forgive me Austen fans—if it’s any consolation I loved Katherine Reay’s Dear Mr. Knightley), and have been known to steer my kids away from Robinson Crusoe in lieu of Harry Potter. I feared the longer descriptions and smaller amount of dialogue in a classic read might ruin my children’s enthusiasm for books.

I recently picked up a copy of Johnny Tremain in order to immerse myself in the setting of my latest novel (Revolutionary Boston). I decided to give it a shot with the kids as a read-aloud. I ignored the temptation to skim over some of the longer descriptions and plunged in, even throwing in a few voices here and there to keep their attention.

It wasn’t long before I realized I didn’t need the voices. My boys loved the story—more so than other, recently published books, I’ve read to them. I found myself enraptured with the story also. Yes, there are some words I wasn’t certain how to pronounce, there were longer descriptions and the dialogue is not as plentiful as Harry Potter, but something about it drew them—and me—into the characters, the time, and the story.

It’s a beautiful thing when that happens, and I pondered why that was so. I have to admit, I think one of the reasons the story captured their attention was because of the longer narrative and vivid descriptions. We were invested in Johnny, liked him despite his flaws, and cheered for him as he found purpose with a crippled hand.

I wondered if some of these characteristics of classic literature that I often avoid can actually make a story stronger. I wouldn’t have felt such a part of Revolutionary Boston without the detail to setting. I wouldn’t have been invested in the character’s relationships if it wasn’t for the time the author took to draw them out, sometimes in longer narrative.

And so I battled with myself. As a writer in the modern world I’d learned not to get too wordy with description and setting, to have plenty of quick dialogue. And as we all know, show don’t tell.

I’m not arguing with these teachings. They are true and relevant to the modern reader. But reading Johnny Tremain made me think I could also learn something (many things!) from the author. Maybe sometimes I shouldn’t be in such a rush to gloss over setting description. Maybe I don’t have to feel pressured to have so much dialogue on each page. I don’t think it’s a formula, but I am convinced that reading some of the classics will make me a better writer. Because at the end of the day, beautiful writing unfolding an enthralling plot is a pleasure to read.

What are your thoughts? Do you read the classics? What is your favorite? Do you believe you are a better writer by spending time in them?

****

Heidi Chiavaroli writes History Woven in Grace. She is a wife, mother, disciple, and grace-clinger. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and has finaled in the Genesis contest and My Book Therapy’s Frasier contest.

Too Lee Do—How This Strange Term Perked Up My Descriptions

I’ve been writing for over a decade now (definitely put in my 10,000 hours!). And I’ve picked up a few tricks along the way. Have you heard of “too lee do”? It’s one of my favorites, and I found it in the first writing book I ever read, Fiction is Folks by Robert Newton Peck. Such a great book!

One of Peck’s greatest gifts to me as a newbie was his chapter on description. When describing a scene, he says, write only what you can see through a toilet paper role. (So, what’s too lee do? Remember when you were a kid and you’d stick those cardboard tubes to your mouth and trumpet “Too lee do!”)

How It Plays Out

Imagine reading this in a 1940s novel: “A woman walks into a living room and sits on the yellow sofa.”

It’s completely boring, isn’t it? Blah!

A too lee do description would look more like this. “The woman’s tightly wound victory rolls bobbed as she tripped over her business-black high heel and flopped onto the old davenport. Her bright red fingernails gripped the yellow checkerboard armrest to keep from tumbling immodestly backward.”

Do you see?

v     Victory roll—reminds us we’re in the World War II era

v     Bobbed—shows the action

v     Business-black high heel—she’s a career woman

v     Bright red fingernails—she cares about her grooming

v     Yellow checkerboard armrest—we can clearly visualize the red fingernails against the armrest

Not only does too lee do accomplish these nifty helps, using tight descriptions thrusts readers into the story. It gives them concrete images to identify with.

Sometimes the little tips add the most polish to our writing. Enjoy too lee do! I know I do. And next week, tune in for another trick I’ve learned.

How do you make your descriptions pop? I’d love to hear.

Happy writing and God bless,

Ocieanna

photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/26891884@N03/3030017373/">glocalproject</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photo pin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/">cc</a>

Dish on Details by Kimberli Buffaloe

They say the "devil is in the details," but wouldn't it be better to say that "God was in the details?" In the same way, we, as writers, need to make sure our descriptions hold details that can transport our readers into our imaginary places. Kimberli Buffaloe, talented writer and photographer, tells us how we can use details to improve our writing.

~ Angie

She exited the Interstate and turned onto the two-lane highway. Despite the years, nothing had changed. Longleaf pines still bordered the shoulder on one side of the road, and on the other, a dozen men dressed in jeans and wide-brimmed hats roamed through tobacco plants harvesting the bottom leaves.

It took some time, but a writing instructor finally helped me understand the importance of details in a story. Not just information on what a character looks like, what they're wearing, or a description of the setting, though all can be essential. She was talking about details unique to the character’s environment within a given scene.

These details are crucial, and a recent Sunday morning service provided me with prime examples of details that could be used to add authenticity to a story. Every autumn, churches in our area celebrate Homecoming. Before we moved here, our concept of this event involved a school dance or football game. But this version of Homecoming is a call for members whose attendance has tapered off to reclaim their place in the pew.

She turned right, into the parking lot. A sea of battered pickups and old sedans clustered around the little brick church, but she drove behind the building and parked in the scraggly grass of what they once called the overflow lot. She stepped out of the car. The scent of chicken and hot bread carried from cars to the fellowship hall filled the air, and bells in the tiered steeple played, urging those who were willing to come home.

More local flavor is found in the meals that take place after Homecoming and other special services. After partaking of the fellowship table, any author can walk away with a full stomach and a notebook filled with details on regional fare. Then, instead of using a nondescript “dishes overflowed with…” a typical food found anywhere in the country, an author whose story is set in eastern North Carolina could instead make readers’ mouths water with an image of favorites such as sweet potato casserole, chicken pastry (a dish similar to chicken and dumplings, but made with thin strips of pasta instead of clumps of dough) and Bright Leaf’s signature red hotdogs.

Once the picture is painted, anchoring readers in the culture of the region, those details can be “snapped” to the character’s journey.

She climbed the steps toward the front doors. The pews would be filled now. Overflowing like the table in the fellowship hall. She reached for the doorknob. The sleeve of her blouse slipped back revealing the butterfly etched into her arm. Come home, ye who are willing, come home, the bells rang. She was willing, but would the congregation welcome her back, or accept the child she carried?

So while researching a setting, don’t forget to check newspapers and church calendars for annual events and celebrations, and local restaurants for regional food favorites.

Kimberli Buffaloe is a pastor's wife, Penwright, and creator of Front Porch Fiction, and Carolina Towns and Trails, a blog featuring outdoor destinations around the Carolinas. Her contemporary novella, Eternal Weight of Glory, won first place at the 2011 Blue Ridge Mountain Christian Writers Conference, and her short stories have appeared on Christian Fiction Online Magazine. She lives in eastern North Carolina with her husband and two terriers.