A while back, I wrote a post about how details are the key to writing ourselves out of cliché. I shared my take on what a cliché is and how we, as writers, can weed them out.
The very first response I got to that post was from a reader who said he has been accused of using cliché descriptions but who countered with the argument:
I [would] rather hear: easy reading & page turner, instead of “long and unexpected way to describe a deranged mind. Figurative but way too long. Almost put it aside”
I have to admit, there is definitely something to that.
Detail Overload
If you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you know I’m a big believer in not finishing books that don’t grab you (check out my post on 3 Reasons It’s Okay to Stop Reading That Book if you’re curious). On occasion, I will admit to tiring of a book because of the unending descriptions.
So I wanted to write a post about choosing our details wisely to avoid detail overload, which can be just as bad for a story as a boatload of clichés.
Trust One Detail
In The Artful Edit, by Susan Bell, she quotes Walter Murch, master editor, as saying “…trust one, well-chosen detail to do the work of ten.”
I love that quote because it supports the idea of digging deep for telling details, while at the same time removing any excess that would weigh a story down.
A teacher of mine once said something similar. She said that on our first drafts we should go ahead and drop in all the hyperbolic language we want, to likewise write in all “sky blue” and “fire engine red” clichés that come to mind. It doesn’t matter on the first draft. Those tired images can work just fine as place holders. But when we go back, we should try to edit our writing down to just one perfect adjective. Cut the rest.
That same teacher encouraged us writers to think outside the normal descriptions we already have in our heads. Light doesn’t just shine. It can smooth, dance, and scrape. Consider the homunculus pine tree or the lank marsupial. One of the more fun parts of writing is putting words together in unusual ways, then editing, editing, editing.
Anonymous says
Living without internet, TV or other ways to live in imagined world’s, descriptions were a way to show you the world and make the book last longer. I loved reading even it were labels on cans. There were not many other distractions on the island we lived on.
Readers now are more visual and have less time,patience.
April says
Interesting observation. I definitely notice that books written a while ago have longer descriptions. Popular tastes definitely shift over time.
Mattias says
I’m still pretty new to serious writing. Descriptions has always been a bit of a thorn in my side, mostly because I’ve always felt that they needed to be there and plentiful… Yet, as I started to write my first proper story (scifi, which can be full of descriptions of all kinds of obscure and foreign concepts), I found myself approaching it almost from an everyday point of view. Ok, it’s a spaceship that can travel through wormholes to get to far away places but do I really.need to go into detail about how it all works and all that, at the risk of turning away those more interested in the events than the mechanics of them. I found myself writing a story different than I anticipated but one that moves at a more rapid pace within a world that’s still described enough for the reader to immerse themselves yet not deep enough to drown in. If that makes sense.
Anyway…Good post 🙂
April says
Thanks, Mattias, I love sci-fi, and yes, that balance is hard. Some readers would want all the details, right? But others just want the story. I think the trick is to write scenes like we would want to read them and trust that there are people out there like us. Good luck with the story!
Rachel says
comforting advice: “write scenes like we would want to read them and trust that there are people out there like us”
yes yes yes
thank you
April Davila says
We all have readers out there. I find it deeply reassuring. Glad you do too.
Michael says
Less is more
Bryan Fagan says
What if the story is told in first person and being long winded is simply who they are. They are the unreliable narrator so full of themselves they have no clue when to shut the door.
April says
I think that sounds like a really fun narrator. Have you read A Gentleman in Moscow? It’s not first person, but it has a long-windedness that is absolutely a joy to read. As a teacher of mine once said: if it works it works.
Juan says
April, just talking to Sandra, my editor about details, cliches, etc. Your comments came like “anillo al dedo”. Both for the clarity and practicality of your o using key details, and the relevance to what I had written Thanks, 🙂
In The Kite Runner there is a comment about “cliches” which hit me: the issue is not to avoid them as all costs but to use them now and then when the timing and the situation is right . I have non problem using cliches in dialogs. The issue appears when it is the author speaking . Using a key detail to avoid triouble with cliches is really helpful
April says
Hi, Juan! That’s an interesting take on it – to use them when the situation is right. And, yes, I totally agree that using them in dialogue makes sense. How’s the new book coming?
Jason Bougger says
i think this is why teens and college students (and even old guys like me) often have so much trouble reading the so-called classics. Slow, drawn-out descriptions often do nothing to help a story. Don’t spend two pages describing the tall thing in the back yard when the word “tree” would suffice.
April says
Agreed. Though it’s probably different for every person, I remember feeling that way with most of the assigned classics I read in school. I sometimes wonder what I would think of those books if I tried to read them again. Could be an interesting experiment… Thanks for the comment.
Rachel Capps says
I agree, too much description slow the story and delays the conflict. I am currently reading a book with too much description. I want the story to start!
April says
I was just having this discussion (again) with my husband in regards to a book he’s reading. It’s a delicate balance, and I suppose it’s different for every reader as well as every writer. Thanks for your comment.