**On Writing is a series of posts about,
well, writing. They will mostly be geared towards writing fiction, but writers
of other genres will find them useful as well.**
Some events in our lives seem to go on forever in our
memories. While a car accident may take mere seconds, our memories play them
out and extend them, making each moment, each tick of the clock, feel as if it
takes up it’s own hour. Character’s memories of traumatic events or important
actions may be drawn out to help the reader see exactly how influential the
event is to the reader.
As we
write, we may “extend out” a moment in order to describe it in detail, almost
as if we’re holding it on “pause” so that we can show more detail and really
paint the picture of what is going on in the imagination of our reader. The
writer has to create an alternate world for the reader so that the reader can
literally imagine everything they’re reading about in their mind’s eye. While
this may seem simple, it can be difficult to force yourself to slow down time
in your story to show those moments. The focus becomes on description typically
rather than what a character is thinking or saying because thought and dialogue
requires more time.
Interested in this challenge? Let’s try it
out!
Describe a scene that takes place over about 10 to 30 seconds. Avoid internal
monologue – focus on your description. If there is a character in your
description (there doesn’t need to be), describe what they see (but not what
they think about it). You say you want more of a challenge? Keep it to 300-700
words…ooh, a word limit means we need to be SUPER focused. I’d love to see your
results! Post them below in a comment! One of mine is below.
A Texas
Thunderstorm
By Liz
Wright
She sat on gravel and loose sand where the pasture rose up to
meet the dirt road, watching the sky. Sweat trickled down her hairline slowly,
mixing with the dirt on her skin. Her t-shirt, soaked with sweat and nearly
see-through, easily signaled the heat and humidity indices of South Texas. Dust
and hay stuck to her shoulder-length light brown ponytail while the wind blew
her hair around her face.
The road veered towards the house and to her left. She watched
as her brothers patched fence. She dragged on her cigarette, observing the sky
above the tree in the pasture as it darkened. The sky surrounding the tree began
as a hazy blue but quickly, as if experiencing a passing angry spell, took on a
dark grey and then a charcoal tinge.
It was an enormously tall and round tree, demonstrating its age.
The small green and yellowing leaves hung drowsy on the limbs and off shoots,
devoid of water and sapped of energy by the heat. Below the tree, light yellow
rectangular boards on stakes indicated which family pet was buried below them:
“Lilly, 2005-2007,” “Missy, 2003-2016,” and twelve others were shielded from
the coming storm by the massive tree. Dirt and exposed tree roots wove between
the signs.
A lone cold raindrop pelted the skin on her arm as lightly as a
dropped dull pencil lead would. She lifted her face to the sky and watched as
the charcoal clouds overtook the landscape. Another large and chilled raindrop
landed next to her dust-covered boots, creating a small explosion of dust. The
intermittent drops hit individual leaves on the trees with random tap, tap, taps. The taps became louder
and closer together the closer the clouds came.
The dark gray cloud quickly flew over the pasture, bringing its
sheet of rain. She could see the actual wall of drops as it moved closer and
closer. The tapping on the tree leaves increased until the sound mirrored that
of rain on a tin roof. The sky around the tree was almost as dark as the air
under the tree now. Drops pelted the earth, sending up tufts of dust but never
creating puddles as it moved so quickly. The drops on her skin multiplied, and
before the cloud swept away her cigarette, boots, and jeans were rain
splattered, creating star-shaped patterns on the paper, leather, and dusty
material.
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