Readers often mention that my fiction writing includes a lot of descriptive details. I’m guilty as charged on that. As a reader, I appreciate details that add context or credibility to the story—details that help me visualize a scene, understand a character, form an opinion or think about what may be coming next. As a writer, I try to add details that do those things and more.
Description is essential because it brings the reader into the story. Seeing, smelling, hearing, feeling. Well done, the reader is there, sensing the things described. Poorly done, the reader is distracted, annoyed or worse. The question is not whether description is needed, but rather how much, where and when. All of these queries are best answered by thinking first about why description adds value.
Let’s explore the why by looking at four examples.
First, brands. I don’t mention specific brands because I like them, and I don’t get paid for placing them in the book. I don’t add them to show off. I mention them because they add precision, depth and realism to the story. If I’m writing about a gun, is it a pistol or a rifle? Is it a single shot or a semi-automatic? If there’s a gunfight going on, how many cartridges does it hold? Does the brand or popularity of the weapon say something about the skill or firearms knowledge of the person shooting it? Does the type or brand of the ammunition add some knowledge about whether the gun is being used to wound or to kill? The more specific the details get, the more a brand can add realism to the story.
Sometimes a product has unique capabilities that are critical to how it’s used in the story. A smart watch can do many things, but can it place and receive phone calls without being near a companion cell phone? How can a mobile phone be remotely wiped if it is stolen? If these things vary by brand or device, I like to include the brand name to add credibility. When I add this level of granularity, I open myself up to readers who Google the details to determine whether I portrayed the product accurately. Knowing that could happen keeps me on my toes. It also lets readers know I care about the details enough to do the research necessary to tell a vivid story.
Brands also say something about the character’s personal choices, attitudes and financial status. Mentioning a brand that is popular with certain types of users subtly adds another dimension to the character who has chosen to own that brand. If the character owns a Tesla or a Porsche, that says something about taste and wealth. It may also say something about showing off. If the person owns a Mazda RX-3 or an Apple iPhone or a Prada purse, that says something. The marketing types call it shared affinity and the brands work hard to achieve it.
Second, houses. For better or worse, our houses tell a lot about who we are, what we like and what we can afford. Sometimes, a short description does the job. Other times, more detail provides an opportunity to add further depth to the character’s motivations and priorities. Does the house reflect the traditional taste of a wealthy elite or the contemporary aesthetic of a modern artist or tech CEO? Is the house used for entertaining? What does that entertaining convey about the character? Does the person enjoy gardening or some other hobby at the house? Is the house a showplace or a dump? It’s all in the details.
Third, clothes. Clothing says a lot about a character. Whether or not they should be, personal preferences, economic status, ego, self-awareness, fashion taste, cultural stereotypes and much more are wrapped up in what we choose to wear. Are the professors sitting around in shorts and tee shirts or in suits and ties? Do their clothes reinforce their surroundings and attitudes or are they out of place? Is a woman wearing a designer dress? Is it currently fashionable or out of style? Is the dress sexy? Is the fashion driven by business or cultural constraints (e.g., China) that say something about the character or the scene or the plot itself? If a character typically dresses in one way, what does it say when the person chooses to dress in another way?
Mark Twain said, “Clothes make the man…naked people have little or no influence on society.” That may or may not have been true about society in Twain’s day (he didn’t get to watch Dancing with the Stars), but naked people can have impact on a plot. In Intentional Consequences, the clothing descriptions sometimes don’t have a lot of clothing to describe. But near or total nakedness also has its place in adding context about the character and the scene.
Fourth, food and restaurants. We are what we eat. Food and restaurants add another opportunity to define a character. Saying the person “had lunch” provides less information than saying she “ate a salad” or some elaborate meal. Did she eat alone or with some one? Where did she eat? If the person ate at a restaurant, what kind? Where was it? Why was it selected? What were the smells? The lighting? The noise? What do the surroundings say about social or food preferences, the local culture, personal economics, business needs or concerns about staying healthy? Adding nuances like these can enhance the setting or add color to the character.
To me, the best descriptions are mosaics that develop as the book unfolds. Although some descriptions need to be tightly wrapped in a single phrase or paragraph, I like well-researched details that add pixel after pixel of content that slowly coalesces into a more complete picture. (Prior to the digital age, paint-by-number was the metaphor.)
Despite the sensory images descriptions can bring, they can also be unnecessary distractions. Like adverbs and the author’s favorite “darlings” (text the author thinks is so cute or clever), details that are ineffective need to be edited out. The challenge is determining which details are unnecessary. Details that add value in one genre may seem out of place in another. Details one reader may find fascinating may bore or offend another. A character’s clothes may be relevant in one scene but not another. Reading is a great way to learn how much description works best in a given application.
Some details are better left to the reader to complete. Readers bring their own life stories to every book they read. If they read about “a dark and stormy night” (to use one of Snoopy’s favorite themes), they’ll apply their own experiences to fill in some of the details the author omitted about what that night was like. Hammering them with too many details prevents them from doing this, which may keep them from relating to the setting as well as they might. The trick is to add enough of the right detail to have the reader complete the picture in a way that works for the story.
The trade-off here varies based on what is being described, what the reader can be expected to bring to the table and whether adding more details will create distraction or discomfort. Nudity is a good example. Despite my tendency toward more rather than less detail in many areas, I generally avoid detailed descriptions of the naked human body. Unless it’s necessary to prevent the reader from making assumptions that would not fit the story, I let each reader add his or her own picture about the physical details I am not describing.
Descriptions can also do more than just describe. In Intentional Consequences, some of my character
portrayals are designed to provoke readers to react (or overreact) to the character or to various social clichés, tropes and stereotypes. When I do this, I am baiting the reader to form prejudgments about the character that may not be comfortable for the reader—assessments that may bias the reader against the character. Different readers will react differently based on the reader’s personal acceptance or rejection of the stereotypes. I’m doing this because I want each reader to think about his or her prejudgments or other reactions as the story unfolds. Were they correct assessments or were they overreactions? Either way, what does that answer say about the reader, the characters, the plot and the socio-political issues that the book explores?
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