A realisation hit me this morning. Good writing is about character and story. I mean how many times have I read this, told others this even! But today I have kind of made myself three simple rules to follow;
1. Unless I am describing the thoughts, feelings or behaviours of my main characters DO NOT take space up with description.
2. Physical descriptions of place and things ONLY when they are important to the plot.
3. Overall - let the story flow.
Might write this as a mantra to myself.
Thursday, 27 October 2011
Friday, 9 September 2011
How much description?
Here is a little tip for descriptive writing.
1. Firstly write out the scene in as little detail as you can
2. Write out the same scene in as much detail as you can - go mad
When you are comparing the two look at the effect on pace. The main thing is to decide, for you as a writer, what is enough description. This is something I have always struggled with and I suspect that is because I am not confident yet with myself as a writer. So here is the first example with as little description as I felt I could get away with.
The Handsome cab rattled under the iron arch of the gateway. The fog swirled around the court yard like a shallow white sea. The carriage swung in a wide arc and drew to a halt outside a tall wooden door. In the shadows of the moon a dark building stood before them. The front door opened a crack and a hand appeared then a head; sunken eyes over a hooked nose. The Porter had been expecting the Gentleman's arrival. He rubbed his fingers over the hand carrying the lantern and glanced back over his shoulder before tiptoeing down the steps to the carriage.
"Lasenby" the Porter declared, running his tongue over his dry lips.
The door of the Handome Cab swung open and a polished shoe was swung out and placed on the footplate. A grey gloved hand clasped the door frame. Slowly Lasenby raised his head, his eye catching the moonlight and turning them momentarily silver, like a cats in the night. The Gentleman blinked and the Porter suppressed a shudder as he held up the lantern for the Gentleman to see the steps.
"I received your message," Lasenby said searching the face of the Porter "You have the boy?"
"Yes, yes," the Porter hissed gently "oh yes." He turned, shuffled up the steps and waited in the shadows of the door.
The horse shifted its weight, the harness danced and jingled. Finally Lasenby gave a curt nod.
"Keep the beast still man," he swung down from the carriage." Wait here for my return," he tipped the man some coins and turned to bound up the steps behind the Porter.
Well here is the more detailed version:
The Handsome cab rattled through the narrow stone gateway. The words were written in iron and arched over the entrance. Inside the courtyard the fog swirled like a shallow white sea. The carriage swung in a wide arc and the horse was pulled to an abrupt halt at the bottom of four step stone steps that rose up to wooden double doors.
In the shadows of the moon a tall four story building rose up in the darkness. The front door opened a crack and a hand appeared. A lantern swung from the gnarled fingers. In the yellow light a head appeared. The weak light sent dark sucked flickering over the sunken eyes and hooked nose.
The Porter had been expecting the arrival of the carriage and the Gentleman in contained. He rubbed his fingers over the hand carrying the lantern and glanced back over his shoulder before hobbling down the steps to the carriage.
"Lasenby" the Porter rasped, running his tongue over his dry lips. The door of the Handome Cab swung open and a polished shoe steped down onto the footplate. A grey gloved hand clasped the door frame. Lasenby leaned forward into the light. His eyes were shaded by his tophat but he slowly raised his head and they caught the moonlight turning them momentarily silver, like a cats in the night. The Gentleman blinked and his eyes returned back to their steady iron grey gaze. The porter suppressed a shudder as he held up the lantern. Light splashed on the cobbled stones for the Gentleman to see as he stepped down.
"I received your message," Lasenby said, sweeping his hand down his frock coat to smooth the creases from the fabric. The Porter could feel the intensity of the Gentlemans stare as it fixed on his face. "You have the boy?"
"Yes, yes," the Porter hissed gently "oh yes." He turned, shuffled up the steps and waited in the shadows of the door. He turned to watch the horse shift its weight, the harness danced and jingled in the darkness. The moon etched the tall figure out of the night. Lasenby tapped his cane in his hand against the floor. "Then take me to him directly," he said giving a curt nod.
1. Firstly write out the scene in as little detail as you can
2. Write out the same scene in as much detail as you can - go mad
When you are comparing the two look at the effect on pace. The main thing is to decide, for you as a writer, what is enough description. This is something I have always struggled with and I suspect that is because I am not confident yet with myself as a writer. So here is the first example with as little description as I felt I could get away with.
The Handsome cab rattled under the iron arch of the gateway. The fog swirled around the court yard like a shallow white sea. The carriage swung in a wide arc and drew to a halt outside a tall wooden door. In the shadows of the moon a dark building stood before them. The front door opened a crack and a hand appeared then a head; sunken eyes over a hooked nose. The Porter had been expecting the Gentleman's arrival. He rubbed his fingers over the hand carrying the lantern and glanced back over his shoulder before tiptoeing down the steps to the carriage.
"Lasenby" the Porter declared, running his tongue over his dry lips.
The door of the Handome Cab swung open and a polished shoe was swung out and placed on the footplate. A grey gloved hand clasped the door frame. Slowly Lasenby raised his head, his eye catching the moonlight and turning them momentarily silver, like a cats in the night. The Gentleman blinked and the Porter suppressed a shudder as he held up the lantern for the Gentleman to see the steps.
"I received your message," Lasenby said searching the face of the Porter "You have the boy?"
"Yes, yes," the Porter hissed gently "oh yes." He turned, shuffled up the steps and waited in the shadows of the door.
The horse shifted its weight, the harness danced and jingled. Finally Lasenby gave a curt nod.
"Keep the beast still man," he swung down from the carriage." Wait here for my return," he tipped the man some coins and turned to bound up the steps behind the Porter.
Well here is the more detailed version:
The Handsome cab rattled through the narrow stone gateway. The words were written in iron and arched over the entrance. Inside the courtyard the fog swirled like a shallow white sea. The carriage swung in a wide arc and the horse was pulled to an abrupt halt at the bottom of four step stone steps that rose up to wooden double doors.
In the shadows of the moon a tall four story building rose up in the darkness. The front door opened a crack and a hand appeared. A lantern swung from the gnarled fingers. In the yellow light a head appeared. The weak light sent dark sucked flickering over the sunken eyes and hooked nose.
The Porter had been expecting the arrival of the carriage and the Gentleman in contained. He rubbed his fingers over the hand carrying the lantern and glanced back over his shoulder before hobbling down the steps to the carriage.
"Lasenby" the Porter rasped, running his tongue over his dry lips. The door of the Handome Cab swung open and a polished shoe steped down onto the footplate. A grey gloved hand clasped the door frame. Lasenby leaned forward into the light. His eyes were shaded by his tophat but he slowly raised his head and they caught the moonlight turning them momentarily silver, like a cats in the night. The Gentleman blinked and his eyes returned back to their steady iron grey gaze. The porter suppressed a shudder as he held up the lantern. Light splashed on the cobbled stones for the Gentleman to see as he stepped down.
"I received your message," Lasenby said, sweeping his hand down his frock coat to smooth the creases from the fabric. The Porter could feel the intensity of the Gentlemans stare as it fixed on his face. "You have the boy?"
"Yes, yes," the Porter hissed gently "oh yes." He turned, shuffled up the steps and waited in the shadows of the door. He turned to watch the horse shift its weight, the harness danced and jingled in the darkness. The moon etched the tall figure out of the night. Lasenby tapped his cane in his hand against the floor. "Then take me to him directly," he said giving a curt nod.
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