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DESCRIPTIVE WRITING - WHEN IS IT TOO MUCH?
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Rebecca
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Jan 31, 2014 04:27PM

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I don't mind a little "stage direction" myself. A simple statement can be read in so many different ways. "Tell me about it," for instance. Did she say it sarcastically? Was she sympathizing with the person? Was she demanding an explanation? Ideally, the reader can tell from the context, but if not, if the author can't SHOW me the inflection, I don't mind a little hint: "Tell me about it," she said with an air of resignation.
Description, in the right places, and if not overused, adds flavor and depth to a story.

The best piece of descriptive writing I ever read was in an Anita Brookner book set in London during summer. It was the first sentence of a chapter, and said, I think: "The evening was livid and smelled of drains." Perfect!


How True Evelyn.
this is my struggle: I've been bashed for too much dialogue and not enough context, and yet I edit out much of the description to keep within the dogma of show not tell.
In the end, I try to set up each scene or chapter with some description, but rarely more than a single paragraph, then I quickly move to the action or dialogue.
When I read, I crave some description, and I have stopped reading books that had none. If I can't orient myself (especially in fantasy as I write), I put it down.
So does genre make a difference in regards to this question?

What if you found that, okay, in some crime novels for instance, there's minimal description and heavy dialogue (like an Elmore Leonard novel)....but in a romance novel maybe there's tons of lush description...
So what? Why must you take your cue from those patterns that are already in place?
Why not a crime novel that paints its hard boiled characters like a Merchant Ivory film? Why not write a romance novel with minimal description and rapid fire dialogue. Shake it up, shake it up.
You've articulated quite well what YOU enjoy as a reader and how you try to work that into your writing.
So, I say you are on the right track. There are no rules.


I'm still new to writing, and I haven't really found my way with that. I like your idea of just skipping it altogether. Unless of course there's some specific thing that matters to the story...Like if there's a character who is supposed to have massive sex appeal, it might be good to pick one primary physical thing and beat that drum a couple of times.
One thing I read in a craft article on litreactor that I really, really liked was this..and I'm paraphrasing here... don't give an inventory list of the physical characteristics. Instead, create noun-verb combinations that bring those physical characteristics to life.
For instance. Instead of saying "Jarod had a high school letter jacket he still wore every day.", you could say "His high school letter jacket drew looks when he entered the cafe."
See, i put the Jacket instead of Jarod in charge of the sentence.
Another thing I like to do when it comes to physical description is to bury the descriptors in the prose.
For instance. Instead of saying Gena had sandy blonde hair.....you could say "Devon ran his fingers through her sandy blonde hair."
Hope that helps.

This is the first few paragraphs from my novel Gentleman of Fortune The Adventures of Bartholomew Roberts, Pirate.
Leaning on the gunwale, Bartholomew Roberts arched his back to ease aching muscles and cursed. He could blame no-one but himself for his relegation to the veritable dog’s berth of third mate. The sailors’ servant they called it, neither man nor officer, but a creature at the whim of both, expected to have some control over the men, yet at the same time climbing the yards and hauling on ropes.
‘Get those blacks below, Mr. Roberts!’
Wearily he straightened up, lifted his old black hat and combed spread fingers through sweat-soaked black curls. The deck was a jumble of crates, casks, ropes, cages, sacks and bundles, and the men worked to get them stacked in the hold. They had worked since sun up without a break to bring them aboard, ivory and gold dust, skins and tobacco, provisions and water, as well as live pigs and chickens. But it was the sorry-looking group of native Africans standing near the helm that made him curse again.
They were males, chained in pairs by the ankles, their naked oiled bodies glistening in the stark glare of the African sun like polished oak. They brought the stench of the holding cells from the castle with them, an acrid ammoniac odour of stale urine, dirt and decay that seemed to ooze from their skin, and upon their faces the blank hopeless stare of the African slave.
From beside him, the captain’s voice goaded him quietly. ‘Come on, Mr. Roberts, get on with it.’
Captain Plumb turned away, strolling aft to the taffrail and Roberts began the task of checking the slaves, peering at teeth and skin for sores or other signs of illness while they stood quietly submissive. A single case of smallpox would decimate cargo and crew in a few days. He made each one cough while he checked for rupture and then passed them all as fit. Nodding to young John Jessup waiting beside him, he said, ‘Get them below.’ He was always relieved to get them off the deck and into the hold, for their presence disturbed him.
‘Mr. Roberts!’ The captain’s voice reached him above the squeal of block and tackle and the sing-out calls of the sailors keeping the rhythm of the pull.
www.evelyntidmanauthor.com



But for the most part, I seem to be better at dialog than anything else.