Layering In Texture and Emotion

Hello everyone, Winnie Griggs here.

Today I want to talk about my favorite part of the writing process.  Once I finish the first draft of a book, I get to dig into the polishing phase. In addition to cleaning things up and making sure there are no loose threads I forgot to wrap up, this is the phase where I go in and look for ways to layer in texture and emotion.


Texture is about specificity. It includes the specific detail you need to include in order to convey feelings, color, atmosphere, setting – in other words, it’s about allowing your readers to immerse themselves in your scene with all of their senses. To do this you add descriptors and sensory words, but you do this with surgical precision – too much and you risk bloating your prose, too little and you miss opportunities to paint a vivid picture for your reader.




I always do better with examples, so I’m going to draw from the opening of one of my books, A Matter Of Trust.
Here is the stripped down, bare bones version:
“The preacher’s cat is an elegant cat.”“The preacher’s cat is a frightened cat.”“The preacher’s cat is a gregarious cat.”“Gregarious.”  Toby drew the word out.  “What does that mean, Ma?”Lucy Ames smiled down at the boy walking beside her.  “It means to be sociable, to want to be part of a group of other folk rather than off by yourself all the time.”  “Oh.”Lucy watched him mentally file away her definition.  Her sweet little boy.  She stepped over a root and paused while Toby studied a beetle.  They’d been strolling along for about thirty minutes, and the creek crossing was just up ahead.  Some of the choicest blackberries in the county grew there.  Once they’d picked enough for Lucy to make a cobbler or two, they’d eat the picnic lunch she’d packed.  A noisy commotion from somewhere up ahead caught her attention. Toby whispered,  “What’s that?”I told you it was bare bones - not much sense of place or anything else here - mainly just talking heads.
Now here it is after I add in a texturing layer (noted in blue text):
“The preacher’s cat is an elegant cat.”“The preacher’s cat is a frightened cat.”“The preacher’s cat is a gregarious cat.”“Gregarious.”  Toby drew the word out as he stretched the band on his slingshot.  “What does that mean, Ma?”Lucy Ames smiled down at the boy walking beside her.  “It means to be sociable, to want to be part of a group of other folk rather than off by yourself all the time.”   Lucy pointed to the floppy-eared dog capering along beside them.  “For example, Jasper here is very gregarious, but Mustard, for all his skills as a mouser, isn’t.”  “Oh.”Lucy watched him mentally file away her definition.  Her sweet little boy.  Then she hitched her shoulder, shifting the weight of the basket she carried.  It was a beautiful day here in the dappled shade of the woods, and they had an afternoon of picnicking and berry picking ahead of them.She stepped over a knobby root and paused while Toby and Jasper studied a large beetle lumbering up the side of a hickory tree.  She inhaled, drawing in the scent of pine needles and just a hint of honeysuckle.  They’d been strolling alongthis leaf-carpeted trail through the woods for about thirty minutes, and the creek crossing was just past the bit of heavy brush up ahead.  Some of the choicest blackberries in the county grew there.  Once they’d picked enough for Lucy to make a cobbler or two, they’d eat the picnic lunch she’d packed.  A noisy commotion from somewhere up ahead caught her attention. Toby whispered,  “What’s that?”This version is a bit better. Hopefully I’ve added enough detail here to give the reader a sense of place, enough to help her really visualize the setting.
But we can do better. Where Texture is all about grounding the reader in your scene, Emotion is about subtext, nuance, feelings, mood – in other words, it’s about allowing your readers to engage with the characters in your story.




Using the same scene, here is how I layered in the emotion (again in blue text):
“The preacher’s cat is an elegant cat.”“The preacher’s cat is a frightened cat.”“The preacher’s cat is a gregarious cat.”“Gregarious.”  Toby drew the word out as he stretched the band on his slingshot.  “What does that mean, Ma?”Lucy Ames smiled down at the boy walking beside her.  The Preacher’s Cat was a favorite game of Toby’s.  He collected new words like other six-year-olds collected rocks and bugs.“It means to be sociable, to want to be part of a group of other folk rather than off by yourself all the time.”   Lucy pointed to the floppy-eared dog capering along beside them.  “For example, Jasper here is very gregarious, but Mustard, for all his skills as a mouser, isn’t.”  “Oh.”Lucy watched him mentally file away her definition.  Her sweet, curious, intelligent little boy, so precious to her.  Now that her mother was gone, he was all she had that truly mattered. Her smile faltered at that reminder, and she pressed a hand lightly against her bodice, comforted by the feel of her mother’s locket, cool against her skin.  Then she hitched her shoulder, shifting the weight of the basket she carried.  It was a beautiful day, tranquil here in the dappled shade of the woods, and they had an afternoon of picnicking and berry picking ahead of them.Time to concentrate on her blessings, not her losses.She stepped over a knobby root and paused while Toby and Jasper studied a large beetle lumbering up the side of a hickory tree. She inhaled, drawing in a feeling of serenity along withthe scent of pine needles and just a hint of honeysuckle.   There was no need to hurry, no sense of urgency.  After all, the walk was as much a part of the outing as the destination.  They’d been strolling along this leaf-carpeted trail through the woods for about thirty minutes, and the creek crossing was just past the bit of heavy brush up ahead.  Some of the choicest blackberries in the county grew there.  Once they’d picked enough for Lucy to make a cobbler or two, Toby’s favorite treat, they’d eat the picnic lunch she’d packed.  Afterwards, they could wiggle their toes in the creek, or look for cloud pictures, or--A noisy commotion from somewhere up ahead caught her attention. At the same time, Toby reached for her hand.  “Ma,” he whispered,  “What’s that?”
In the above version, I’ve added in the cues to let you in on what the characters are felling, how they view the world around them and each other. I’ve given you more reason to care about them and reason to feel things more deeply when their peace is shattered, which it will be in the next few paragraphs