Description

Writing When It’s Not Like a Movie

May 7, 2016 By Jo Eberhardt

When you sit down to write a scene, do you see it play out behind your eyes like a movie? Can you close your eyes and bring to mind images of each of your characters? If you’re like the majority of writers, the answer to both those questions is a resounding YES.

If, on the other hand, you’re like me, you may be peering at the questions and wondering what that would be like.

Until last year, I thought people were making it up when they said they could see what they were writing (or reading) like a movie. The concept had about as much credibility as people suggesting I count sheep to help me go to sleep.

And then, about a year ago, I was lost in the procrastination-halls of the internet when I clicked on a BBC article about something called “aphantasia”. Suddenly, I discovered that not only were people not making it up, but that being unable to create visual images in your mind is a rare condition, affecting less than 2% of the population. By definition, aphantasia is a condition wherein someone doesn’t have a functioning mind’s eye.

Not only do I not see movies as I write, I can’t visualise, well, anything. At all. I don’t even dream in pictures. I have absolutely no concept of what it would be like to see things that no one else can see.

When I tell people this, the first reaction I get is generally disbelief. That’s followed quickly by shock and confusion. (For the record, that’s exactly how I feel when people tell me they can see things in their head.) And then I get the question: “But if you can’t imagine things, how can you be a writer?”

First of all, my imagination is just fine, thankyouverymuch. As my parents, teachers, and friends from school would tell you, imagining things has never been a problem. But therein lies the problem: We tend to use the words ‘imagine’ and ‘visualise’ interchangeably.

From the Oxford Dictionary:

Visualise: Form a mental image of; imagine

Imagine: Form a mental image or concept of

So, no, I can’t visualise anything. But I can imagine things just fine. I just imagine them conceptually. If you’re curious what that would be like, try this exercise: [Read more…]

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Inspired to Emulation: Bellman & True

March 8, 2016 By David Corbett

One of my favorite quotes about writing is this one from Saul Bellow:

“Writers are readers inspired to emulation.”

That notion calls to mind three recent posts here at Writer Unboxed: one by Dave King on how much he’s learned about dialog from Aaron Sorkin; a second by Kathleen McCleary on how incredibly helpful reading fiction has been for her current work in progress; and just yesterday Greer Macallister’s exploration of writing lessons to be learned from the hit play Hamilton.

Accordingly, I’ve decided to provide my own contribution to this emerging mini-genre, and discuss a book I return to often for the numerous lessons it’s offered.

The novel is titled Bellman & True, written by British novelist and screenwriter Desmond Lowden. He adapted the book into a film of the same title (follow this link to watch the trailer), and that title comes from an old Cumberland song, “D’ye Ken John Peel,” specifically the lyric:

Yes, I ken John Peel and Ruby too.

Ranter and Ringwood, Bellman and True.

From a find to a check, from a check to a view,

From a view to a death in the morning.

There’s a pun in the term “bellman.” Above and beyond its use to denote both a hotel employee and a town crier, it ‘s also criminal slang for someone who specializes in getting past bank alarms.

[Read more…]

Characterize through Experiential Description, Part 2

November 15, 2012 By Ray Rhamey

It was 5 years ago that I wrote a post for Writer Unboxed on using experiential description to add characterization to a narrative.

Pause for HOLY COW, 5 YEARS!? Yep, it was 2007. My, how time gallops.

I coined the phrase “experiential description” to express the blending of a character’s perceptions of a setting, person, or an action with description of the literal what it is/what is happening.

The reason I’m writing about this again is that I’ve been teaching experiential description in workshops at writers conferences, and my understanding of it has grown to appreciate that what makes experiential description work is that it’s gut-level, unconscious reactions or perceptions, not thoughts or internal monologue, that inject character into description.

Look at it this way: when you drive up to your home, you don’t simply see a rectangular structure with windows and doors and landscaping that includes green grass and an oak tree and a cluster of cedar trees.

No, all of your experiences are loaded into your instant of perception. Let’s say you notice that a window is open. Your internal description is not: The left corner window is open.

No, your experiential description might be: The baby’s window is open.

When you enter the kitchen, you don’t see: The kitchen has gray ceramic counters, a stainless steel sink, and a black refrigerator.

I call this a snapshot, a photographic image that only communicates physical qualities. [Read more…]