"Hoosier Ink" Blog

Showing posts with label five senses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label five senses. Show all posts

Saturday, September 3, 2016

Need That Definite Article?

While I was revising my first novel manuscript, my crit partners complained that its descriptive passages did not engage a reader's senses. Here was a typical passage:
Ruth slid the galvanized pail of potato peelings off the table and carried it to the backyard, where half a dozen Plymouth Rocks were scratching for worms. When she dumped the pail in their midst, the chickens cackled with delight and began tearing into the fresh vegetable skins.
My sensory cues were there all right, but their effect was lifeless. For one thing, I leaned heavily on the definite article, the. (In those 48 words I just quoted, the appears 6 times.) So I began noticing what happens when a writer does away with it.

On BBC-TV's series, "The Secret Life of Books," I heard the narrator read several passages from Laurie Lee's coming-of-age novel, Cider with Rosie, which rarely uses the.  I bought a copy from a used book store and found this was his consistent pattern. Here's how he describes the house where he grew up:
Our house, and our life in it, is something of which I still constantly dream, helplessly bidden, night after night, to return to its tranquility and nightmares; to the heavy shadows of its stone-walled rooms creviced between bank and yew trees, to its boarded ceilings and gaping mattresses, its bloodshot geranium windows, its smells of damp pepper and mushroom growths, its chaos and rule of women.
In that 66-word sentence, he uses the definite article...once! Here's how he describes their kitchen:
That kitchen, worn by our boots and lives, was scruffy, warm and low, whose fuss of furniture seemed never the same but was shuffled around each day. A black grate crackled with coal and beech twigs; towels toasted on the guard; the mantel was littered with fine old china, horse brasses and freak potatoes...
In those 53 words, he uses the definite article 3 times (half as often as I would). Instead of employing that colorless, tasteless, odorless modifer, he utilizes words that awaken our senses.

Strictly speaking, English syntax calls for the definite article on only three occasions:
  • The noun you're modifying is specific. 
  • The noun you're modifying is not new to the reader.
  • The noun you're modifying refers to an entire class.
Look back at my manuscript sample. Using these rules, see if you eliminate at least half of my definite articles. How would you rewrite the passage in a more engaging way without them? If you find yourself overusing the (as I do), ask yourself whether you're just avoiding the use of your imagination.




Saturday, June 4, 2016

Come with Me

My wife, Judy, died five months ago and I am learning day by day how to adjust to her absence. As I told a friend at church last Sunday, I feel like a mariner who has crossed the equator: I still have my sextant and compass, but I must learn how to navigate all over again.

In our 41 years of marriage, Judy and I shared life on the most intimate (and, some would say, trivial) levels. One of our favorite pastimes was to go for long drives, just to see what we could discover together. On such a drive last July (with Judy at the wheel), we struck out east from Anderson and chose our turns as we went. We saw Wilbur Wright's birthplace, stopped for a soft-serve ice cream cone in Winchester, and realized just before sundown that we were near the Ohio state line.

All along the way, I shared my memories of growing up on a farm in East Tennessee. I got plenty of memory prompts from the hay fields and cornfields of eastern Indiana that July afternoon! In fact, each of us interrupted my childhood narrative often to comment on what we saw, smelled, and heard as we wended our way toward Ohio. Our running commentary ("Look at the snowy egret beside that pond." "This fresh-cut grass smells like a ripe watermelon," etc.) seared the memory of that drive in my mind. What I miss most about Judy is the opportunity to share those incidental observations of daily life--call them the "trivial" things if you like. I still find myself spontaneously saying things like, "I just heard a sand hill crane. There must be a flock overhead."

I felt depressed yesterday afternoon, wishing I still had a companion to share these rich trivialities of daily life. I wondered, Who could I invite to come with me now?

Immediately, the thought came: My readers. They enjoy yarns of days gone by, as much as Judy enjoyed the story of my life as a farm boy, but they want just as much to experience the sensory details along the way. I don't have to tell them what the details mean with respect to our journey or destination, though the details should have some significance for the story; I can simply call these things to our attention and let their significance unfold.

Vivid description does that. So does authentic dialogue. In fact, everything in a well-told story should sear the memory of it in the reader's mind.

I'm thinking I ought begin every story by saying to the reader (in my imagination if not on paper), "Come with me. Let's see what this world looks like today."

Joe Allison has been a member of the Indiana Chapter of American Christian Fiction Writers since 2010. He lives in Anderson, IN.



Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Stop! Look! Listen!


an exercise using your senses in creativity

In the beginning God created. As creatures made in God’s likeness, we too are creative. Creativity is the natural order of life. That may take many shapes and forms, but for writers creativity comes in words. The words and the patterns we form is our gift back to God. Our self-expression is a love offering to Him.

In this sin-sick world creativity can be easily be stifled. How do you revive a creative energy that’s been locked up? How do you freshen or sharpen the creativity you are currently using? Books and websites and classes offer many ideas. Here are a few quick and simple ways to spark creativity.

Stop! Look! Listen! Take an hour, a morning, or an entire day and do not speak unless answering a direct question. Brooding or pouting doesn’t count. Go about your day normally, except be quiet. How does this change the dynamics of your day and relationships? What do you observe that had become routine, stale, or been previously unnoticed?

Another exercise involves the sense of smell. Take several jars or items from the kitchen cupboard and set them where you can reach them. Blindfold yourself. Grab an item, open it and gently inhale. What images, emotions, memories come to mind? Let yourself feel whatever you feel. Don’t wrestle with it. Record your thoughts. You can perform this same exercise on a walk outdoors by simply closing your eyes before you sniff.

Taste is an interesting sense related to smell. Have another person help you with this one. Blindfolded and without smelling, let different edible items be placed in your mouth. Try the exercise again, in random order, but first inhale deeply. Record what thoughts, emotions, or other observations you have.

Once when I was little, older kids on the block made up an haunted house in a basement. In one area we were lead blindfolded to a table and had to touch substances we were told were eye balls, guts, or spiders. The reality of jello, rice, threads was suspended by sensation and my imagination. Have your kids help you with this one. They'll get a hoot out of helping even if you don't celebrate Halloween or scariness.

These are simple exercises that sharpen our awareness of the world we live in, the world God created. Focusing on a single sense at a time changes our perspective and can pull us out of a mental rut worn deep by routine and duty and behaving in unimaginative ways. With senses reawakened, our creativity will stir. Now go and write and I’ll do likewise.

How did these experiments work for you? Did you have fun? What was the most unusual thing that happened during the exercise? What sense needed most wakening? I’d love to hear from you about your experience.