Writing Right with Dmitri: Adding Flavour

0 Conversations

Writing Right with Dmitri: Adding Flavour

Editor at work.

It may seem like a small thing. But adding sensory input to your writing makes the story come alive.

The Grocers'! oh, the Grocers'! nearly closed, with perhaps two shutters down, or one; but through those gaps such glimpses! It was not alone that the scales descending on the counter made a merry sound, or that the twine and roller parted company so briskly, or that the canisters were rattled up and down like juggling tricks, or even that the blended scents of tea and coffee were so grateful to the nose, or even that the raisins were so plentiful and rare, the almonds so extremely white, the sticks of cinnamon so long and straight, the other spices so delicious, the candied fruits so caked and spotted with molten sugar as to make the coldest lookers-on feel faint and subsequently bilious. Nor was it that the figs were moist and pulpy, or that the French plums blushed in modest tartness from their highly-decorated boxes, or that everything was good to eat and in its Christmas dress; but the customers were all so hurried and so eager in the hopeful promise of the day, that they tumbled up against each other at the door, crashing their wicker baskets wildly, and left their purchases upon the counter, and came running back to fetch them, and committed hundreds of the like mistakes, in the best humour possible…

Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

Yeah, we get it. It was the Christmas rush. But can't you just see it and hear it and smell it? Dickens' world is long gone, but that story conjures up for us those people, and how they felt, every year when we read it again. You can do that, you know. You don't have to be so flowery about it, but you can throw in a sight, a sound, a smell. Put your senses to work.

Wherever you are right now, close your eyes. What do you hear? I hear a lawn mower. That's because it's late fall, and it has been an unusual warm season here. People are still mowing lawns. That has a strong smell, which I'm hiding from here in the air-conditioned house, because I am allergic to everything these days. But that sharp smell of freshly cut grass, that belongs in a story. So does what I just see in my mind, what I just noticed outside on the porch, the deep russet of an unfamiliar shrub at the corner of my neighbour's yard. I hardly noticed the shrub all summer, when it was merely a lighter green than the surrounding trees, but now that it's come out in all its red-orange glory, it seems to be shouting 'Notice me!' from among the hemlock. I love surprises like that. What else do I hear? The quiet under the lawn mower – the quiet of a street with no traffic, and the blessed absence of the fire department's siren, which is the bane of my existence.

What do you smell? Coffee brewing? Furniture polish? Something baking in the oven? The cat box? If the smell is wafting all the way upstairs, it's time to go down and change the litter. . .

You get the point. Get out there and notice things. Don't overload your narrative with irrelevant detail, but remind the reader that life is not all visual, cerebral, and ratiocinative. Throw in some sensory input. That's one reason why our FWR suggested this November challenge: to associate food with a memory. It's not only a great way to come up with a good story, it's also a way for us to practice putting our senses to work.

Whenever Cactuscafe comes around, you should talk to her. She's synaesthetic, and she has wonderful insights into the way the senses work together. You just have to look at her photography to see how that pays off. Or read what she did with a simple jar of Marmite. I've never eaten Marmite, never even seen it, but I got a lot out of her descriptions.

Sensory input can tear your heart out sometimes. Think about describing what a piece of fruit tastes like to a person who's been starving. Think about the smell of bread baking, reminding a character of a departed but beloved grandmother. Think of the hopefulness of the smell of new construction after a war. . .

Okay, go out and practice. And send in your Stuff. I can just see the contributions already. . .

Writing Right with Dmitri Archive

Dmitri Gheorgheni

07.11.16 Front Page

Back Issue Page


Bookmark on your Personal Space


Conversations About This Entry

There are no Conversations for this Entry

Entry

A87880080

Infinite Improbability Drive

Infinite Improbability Drive

Read a random Edited Entry


Disclaimer

h2g2 is created by h2g2's users, who are members of the public. The views expressed are theirs and unless specifically stated are not those of the Not Panicking Ltd. Unlike Edited Entries, Entries have not been checked by an Editor. If you consider any Entry to be in breach of the site's House Rules, please register a complaint. For any other comments, please visit the Feedback page.

Write an Entry

"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is a wholly remarkable book. It has been compiled and recompiled many times and under many different editorships. It contains contributions from countless numbers of travellers and researchers."

Write an entry
Read more