I am reading The Wet
Collection by Joni Tevis. I really appreciate her attention to detail. She
writes with lots of description. But more than that, she really focuses in on the
objects and writes about them close up so the reader can SEE them. I truly feel
I am walking where she walks when I read her work.
An example of this is in her prologue on page 5. She is
talking about a time when she is was in a museum walking beneath a bunch of
stuffed birds hanging from the ceiling. She writes:
The
bellies of the birds—phoebe, grackle, redwing blackbird—have been stitched in
neat zigzags from crop to throat. Someone’s patient hand pinched the lips of
the emptied breast. Someone pushed insecticide-laced batting into the cavity. Someone
tied the knot… People bring what they find: sparrows, mourning doves, the
common birds of the city. Then someone eviscerates the dead thing, sprinkles
cornmeal to soak the blood, glues cabochons of glass for the eyes.
I love this! It forces me to look closely at things—not just
in my writing but in my everyday life. I want to really SEE what I am looking
at instead of breezing through the day, everything a blur because I didn’t take
the time to notice. I often get absorbed in my own thoughts (thoughts are vague
and hazy) when I should be focusing on concrete reality. When we talk to
people, do we notice the width of their brows, the flecks of color in their
eyes, the slight expressions on their faces?
Last night when I was writing my poem, I tried to write more
closely about my topic. I zoned in on a leaf and was surprised at the detail I
saw which I always take for granted. I want to be able to use strong metaphors
and concrete images to explain what I see. I want to draw parallels between
things, to use beautiful and unique language that will surprise people.
Last night I was attentive to the real, the detailed, and
the concrete. This morning I was walking to work and it took me a few minutes
to notice that there was snow on the ground! (Just a couple days ago people
were playing volleyball and frisbee outside in their t-shirts.) Shows how
quickly we forget. Do you make a habit/discipline of noticing the things around
you? Is it hard or easy for you to write about concrete images in a way that
you (or the reader) can really see them? Do you ever have to actually look at
the thing before you can write about it?
Concrete images and strong metaphors. Those are two excellent ideals in writing essays. Thank you for pointing those out. I get so abstract and shoot for the moon in my writing, when what the reader needs is often concrete strength.
ReplyDeleteI do make it a habit of noticing things around me, but I get so wrapped up with it that I miss the whole point of the actual BEING of the thing I am looking at. I do this with people too. I see their faces and think ahead of who I hope they will be, what I hope they will do for others, for themselves, for me. I rarely take the time to love them exactly for who they are in the breath that I am taking next to them. Details, concrete details really matter.
I love that you brought up concrete images. I struggle with putting those into my writing as well. Part of it is because I love looking at landscape type things, seeing the unity of a conglomeration. It's against my first inclinations to "ignore" the big picture to focus on one facet. I know that it happens a lot in my writing too, especially in personal essay, because I tend to write about emotions or thoughts in a very abstract manner. Trying to connect emotions or thoughts to actual events is more difficult, but helps the reader inhabit your world.
ReplyDeleteI think it does help to do "observation" exercises, where I am intentional about looking closely at objects. Things that I usually take for granted somehow become beautiful when I do, like leaves (as you mentioned), snowflakes, and (if this is weird, I'm sorry) the texture of jeans. It's kind of incredible what designs are in denim. No, that probably won't ever end up in my writing, but studying things, taking the time to really look hard, is a habit I would really like to form. Thanks for reminding me!
So often it's the little things that we remember most vividly about the past (you know, like the birthday party from when you were six where you remember nothing but the hershey kiss-like frosting globs on the cake). Details mean something and details make things seem more real. Good liars incorporate small details into their lies so that it seems more honest (and bad liars paint in broad strokes). I think the same could be said of many (not all...there's always an exception or eight) stories and especially poems.
ReplyDeleteThis is really interesting, Bethany! You're right about noticing the concrete. About a month ago I started reading a book about body language, and it's amazing how much you can learn about people by watching their posture, which way their eyes glance, and how they cross their legs. It's amazing how much is there that you never pick up on unless you are really deliberate in your observation, and so much of that can define great writing.
ReplyDeleteOne exercise that I've found to be really interesting is to sit silently and just listen for a while. You'll almost always here something that you hear all the time but have never noticed before, like the sound of someone's sleeves brushing against a laptop while she writes a paper. There are lots of other things you can do too that can help, but I think that that kind of detail really builds a story and sets you apart as a writer.
The most difficult things for me to write concretely about are always things that are most familiar to me. Because we see them all the time, it's like we don't see them at all anymore. It's easy to forget to take the time to study them closely with depth.
ReplyDeleteThe actual inclusion of details is so easy for me in my personal essays -- as Heidi mentioned, sometimes your mind remembers the details of a scene better than anything else. But I have more trouble in fiction. For one thing, I'll find myself plodding through a first draft and realize halfway through that my characters are standing in a vague box. I know generally what it looks like, but I could describe any paintings on the walls, or the texture of the furniture, or the trinkets in the hutch. It's not usually until a second time through that I'm able to incorporate those smaller things into my scenes. As a writing exercise for myself, I'm trying to spend a few minutes in my characters' world just looking around, poking at things, and petting their cat before I start writing for the day. It's giving my imagination some good exercise, if nothing else.
i remember hearing from Professor McCann or a classmate something that Professor Hougen had said: Writing is about noticing. (At least, i think they said that Professor Hougen says that.) i don't know, maybe other people have said that too, but that makes a lot of sense to me.
ReplyDeleteWhat a tribute to our Creator, that we write about His creation! People's brows, the flecks of color in their eyes, the expressions on their faces, these things are so worth noticing, which makes them worth writing. God made that smile, He fearfully and wonderfully formed those eyes, He formed that brow. Glory to God—that's what good writing says, and we as Christians get to understand that the glory is God's.
I tend to see a lot of the details in the world around me, but it is harder to write them. I'm not sure why, but I think at least part of it is the fact that I am writing fiction--it's one thing to write the little things I see, and another thing altogether to write unseen details. Or is it? Are there any other fiction writers out there who can give tips on how they "see" what they aren't really looking at? To those who are seeing detail in the world around you, does it ever get overwhelming? I find the more I pay attention to detail, the more I realize I can't take it all in.
ReplyDeleteMan that is such a great question. I guess I really haven't made a good habit of it in my life. I do notice detail probably when I'm not supposed to. I have a pretty short attention span, especially in class, so the faux wood desk and the walls and all the electrical plugins have been pretty well noted.
ReplyDeleteOther things I tend to notice in detail: bathrooms, people's hands and feet, hair, food, and the sky.
Everything else ends up being a blur around me, but I love that you asked that question because I really do want to be better about living in the present instead of the future and actually notice the beautiful life around me.
Writing closely is such a great exercise! There is so much we can illuminate through words that we have been missing everyday. I think I will try to do that over break. I could discover some surprising things that actually hold some importance to my writing. Lots of non-essentials could be shaved off of my essays if I did more close writing and found some more important substance that is hidden at the core.
ReplyDeleteThe further I press into capstone, the more I realize that we can't just slap words on a page like we do for most of our assignments. We need to be producing something of significance. Capstone needs to be different. Why are we worth listening to? Do we actually have something striking and profound to say? Even our words are merely enjoyable, is it a cheap kind of joy, or is it something that took time and effort to produce some small kernal that needed to be noticed?