If you choose the correct words, you won�t need pages and pages of description.
It starts with what Aristotle called �the proper and special name of a thing.�
Rebecca McClanahan says, � Naming is so basic to the writing process, so intricately woven into every effective description, that we often overlook its importance. Yet without this first act, without a precise, significant and musical naming, no description can be attempted, no work of literature born.�
As writers we must know the accurate names of things. If we�re writing about a nurse, we must know the names of tools she uses and know the difference between a stethoscope and sphygmomanometer. A doctor will use different tools than a nurse will, as truck drivers and beauticians have names for specific things. Sometimes it will take some research to find those proper names. Try making a list of terms associated with your character�s job, or one you�re interested in. When you�ve finished your list, expand the words into descriptive phrases, then combine them to make a scene or complete description.
Aristotle says, �One word may come closer than another to the thing described . . . set it more distinctly before our eyes.� Don�t merely say bug. Firefly, bee, and cockroach call forth different images and reactions. McClanahan uses variations of white to describe a girl�s face�milky, bloodless, and alabaster. All accurately name white, but each word shows a different image. After you�ve written your first drafts, go through them again and circle generic words. With what specific words can you replace them?
One aspect of word choice I often overlook is the musical naming of something, meaning the sounds of our words must reinforce their imagistic and emotional content. In choosing words for our scenes, we must keep in mind the tone and mood of the scene. An excellent example of word choice by the sounds of words is
Edgar Allen Poe�s, �The Raven.�
Here�s the beginning stanza:
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore--
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door--
Only this and nothing more."
Note the repetition of the long O sounds as in lore, door, more.
Years ago, I was in a workshop, and the story I presented was �Rose Petals in a Jar.� I remember my instructor asked me to repeat a line that appeared on page two. Orange and red cabbage roses danced on the wall. I wished him conscious so he could see them.
He kept repeating it to the point of embarrassing me, saying he loved the way it sounded. I took his advice and started the story with that line, and it helped me to echo the same tone throughout the story. Look over your writing. Do the sounds of your words help to evoke the tone and atmosphere you want your reader to experience?
Exercise:
[Note: This is adapted from Rebecca McClanahan's WORD PAINTING]
Make a list of terms or equipment associated with yours or your character's
vocation or avocation. Spend about ten minutes doing this and write quickly.
List even the mundane, things you think most take for granted. When you've
finished your list, expand the items into descriptive phrases. Use sensory
details. Be specific. Then write a scene in which your character is at work or
enjoying her hobby. Avoid adverbs. Use specific nouns and active verbs. Don't
forget the senses. And as always, have fun with it!
