The German Shepherd strained against the leash, alternately snarling and baring his teeth in a guttural bark. He never took his eyes off the 4-year-old child, who stood just beyond the animal’s reach with only one link in the dog’s chain separating him from a potentially fatal attack. The restraint of the chain only made the dog angrier and more determined to attack the small human being who stood only a few feet away.
Don’t try to figure out what words you will attach to something. Instead, use your senses. What do you see and smell and hear? Nobody cares about what you think or how you react. Paint the picture and let the reader react.
Painting word pictures? Readers want a picture—something to see, not just a paragraph to read. A picture made of words. An amateur tells a story. A pro shows the story – creates a picture to look at instead of words to read. A good author writes with a camera, not a pen.
The amateur: Bill was nervous. The pro: Bill sat in a dentist’s waiting room, peeling the skin at the edge of his thumb, until the raw, red flesh began to show. Biting his torn cuticle, he ripped it away, and sucked the warm sweetness of his own blood. Robert Newton Peck Secrets of Successful Fiction
A soft rain slips down through the trees and the smell of ocean is so strong that it can almost be licked off the air. Trucks rumble along Rogers Street and men in t-shirts stained with fishblood shout to each other from the decks of boats. Beneath them the ocean swells up against the black pilings and sucks back down to the barnacles. Beer cans and old pieces of Styrofoam rise and fall and pools of spilled diesel fuel undulate like huge iridescent jellyfish. The boats rock and creak against the ropes and seagulls complain and hunker down and complain some more.
The reporter entered the newsroom, and it was clear that he was angry. John stormed into the newsroom, flung his jacket on the floor and bellowed, “I feel like killing somebody!”
My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night. Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.
My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night. Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other. Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.
My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night. Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other. Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK. Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him at home all day.
Word choice: nouns Word choice: verbs Word choice: adverbs Word choice: adjectives Quotes Anecdotes Simile and metaphor Unity/ theme/focus Describing people and places The techniques of descriptive writing for journalists
• She bought a dog. • Sarah Smith bought a dog. • Sarah Smith bought a poodle. • Sarah Smith bought a poodle from PetSmart. • Sarah Smith bought a French Poodle from PetSmart.
• She bought a dog. • Sarah Smith bought a dog. • Sarah Smith bought at poodle. • Sarah Smith bought a poodle from PetSmart. • Sarah Smith bought a French Poodle from PetSmart. • Sarah Smith bought a white French Poodle from PetSmart.
• She bought a dog. • Sarah Smith bought a dog. • Sarah Smith bought a poodle. • Sarah Smith bought a poodle from PetSmart. • Sarah Smith bought a French Poodle from PetSmart. • Sarah Smith bought a white French Poodle from PetSmart. • Sarah Smith bought a fluffy white French Poodle from Petsmart.
• She bought a dog. • Sarah Smith bought a dog. • Sarah Smith bought at poodle. • Sarah Smith bought a poodle from PetSmart. • Sarah Smith bought a French Poodle from PetSmart. • Sarah Smith bought a white French Poodle from PetSmart. • Sarah Smith bought a fluffy white French Poodle from Petsmart. • Sarah Smith bought a fluffy white French Poodle from Petsmart. She named the dog Fifi.
In one third-grade classroom, the walls are bordered by cheetah and zebra prints, bright pink caddies hold pencils and glue sticks, and a poster at the front lists rules, including “Act pretty at all times!” Next door, cutouts of racecars and pictures of football players line the walls, and a banner behind the teacher’s desk reads “Coaches Corner.” The students in the first class: girls. Next door: boys.
In the cold hours of a winter morning Dr. Thomas Barbee Ducker, chief brain surgeon at the University of Maryland Hospital, rises before dawn. His wife serves him waffles but no coffee. Coffee makes his hands shake. In downtown Baltimore, on the 12th floor of University Hospital, Edna Kelly's husband tells her goodbye. For 57 years Mrs. Kelly shared her skull with the monster: No more. Today she is frightened but determined. It is 6:30 a.m. “I'm not afraid to die,” she said as this day approached. "I've lost part of my eyesight. I've gone through all the hemorrhages. A couple of years ago I lost my sense of smell, my taste. I started having seizures….”
H.D. Moore, focused on the laptop computer screen in front of him, works in bursts. There is a fusillade of clicks as his fingers fan out over the laptop’s keyboard. Then a few zigzags of the mouse. Then nothing. More clicks, more zigs, a couple of zags, then more nothing. Normally by this time, Moore would have been guilty of committing a flash drive full of federal and state electronic crime laws.
But as senior security analyst and all-around ninja hacker for Digital Defense, a 9-month-old, San Antonio based computer security firm, this is what the Austin native is being paid to do. This is an “intrusion,” an exercise in which Digital Defense, hired to provide computer security for a credit union in the northeastern United States, actually hacks into the system to test its security. Clad in black short sleeves, black slacks, black shoes and with his short hair moussed to the max, Moore works on a small stretch of clear wo4rkspace between two cubicles, which means his rolling chair actually rests in the cramped pathway.
Moore keeps typing and zigzagging the mouse. People walk by, but Moore is oblivious. Two cell phones, a pack of Camels and a paper cup of soda are resting alongside the laptop. All are untouched. Moore’s back is stiff. His arms are rigid. His glare is piercing. Finally, the look of concentration morphs into a sly smile. His limbs loosen. The 19-year-old rolls his head, as if visibly shaking off the tension. “We’re in,” he says with a smirk.
In writing. Don't use adjectives which merely tell us how you want us to feel about the thing you are describing. I mean, instead of telling us a thing was "terrible," describe it so that we'll be terrified. Don't say it was "delightful"; make us say "delightful" when we've read the description. You see, all those words (horrifying, wonderful, hideous, exquisite) are only like saying to your readers, "Please will you do my job for me.” C.S. Lewis
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