Adding a little punch…

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And I don’t mean of the alcoholic variety.  Although rum punch wouldn’t be such a bad thing when we are facing revision. Instead I am talking about adding spice, pizzazz, a certain something that makes the reader say, “Now that was good!”

Think about it.  Haven’t you ever picked up a piece of writing, read it and thought, “That author has got it.”  Just what is that elusive it?  Can be lots of things, right?  Pacing, characterization, mood, tone, structure –we could go on and on about what makes writing good.  But I’m going to limit my “punchiness” to using imagery and figurative language.

Imagery and figurative language –  such English teachery words.  I know you are envisioning your former teacher in her jumper and SAS shoes…and shivering. But, never fear. I’m betting that unlike my former students, you will put this to use.  Imagery, in essence, is using words to create a mental picture in the reader’s mind. Think five senses – you’ve heard plenty of harping on that from your contest entires, right?  There’s always one judge who says, “Need to use your five senses more.”  So, how do you do this? You’ve got to do a little transporting – go to that beach, to that garden, to that bed of tangled sheets.  What do you hear, see, feel, taste, smell?  Come on now, stretch that brain – you don’t just see waves, you see, “the wrinkled sea beneath him crawls.”  You don’t just hear birds, you hear “swallows circling with their shimmering sound.” Okay, I used Tennyson and Teasdale, but I bet you can come up with just how those sheets feel, right?  My point – place yourself there and search for the words.  And not just the overused, trite variety; find the good ones.

Figurative language – using similes, metaphors, and personification.  Taking you back to that dreary English class, aren’t I?  Well, trust me – we can make dreariness disappear with these three puppies.  Below are some good examples:

“The sky is low – the Clouds are mean,”  Emily Dickinson

“I wandered lonely as a cloud.”  William Wordsworth

“Darkness covered everything blacker than a hundred midnights down in a cypress  swamp.”  James Weldon Johnson

“His absurd little whiskers sticking out like a cartoon-mouse, his feet like small leaves,  little lizard feet.”  Theodore Roethke

“The startled little waves that leap in fiery ringlets from their sleep.”  Robert Browning

“Hard and sharp as a flint and solitary as an oyster.”  Charles Dickens

“Worst of all, her hair was uncoiling from the Aqua Net curl by curl, with the hair spray weighing it down just enough so that the escaping locks hung lank around her face like bedsprings that had been tossed from a tenement window and left in an alley to rust.”  Susan Elizabeth Phillips

“Draping a Biasia bag over her shoulder and putting Claudia Ciutis on her feet was like putting a silver-trimmed saddle on a big fat mule.”          Jane Graves

“. . .the very mist on the Essex marshes was like a gauzy and radiant fabric, hung from the wooded rises inland and draping the low shores in diaphanous folds.”  Joseph Conrad

From timeless authors and poets to current ones, all give good examples of different ways you can use figurative language.  But don’t forget, figurative language is like salt:  Add only a little, or it will be unreadable.

Now  for a little homework.  (You didn’t think you were getting off that easy, did you?)  Look for good use of figurative language in the works that you read.  Note them and then ask yourself why they work or don’t work.  Then take a look at your own writing.  Have you made a comparison that is flat or worse – clichéd?  Have you missed an opportunity to give your words impact?  Take a hard look at your language.  You don’t have to go purple prose, but you can make word choices that make your readers stand up and take notice, or better yet, deliver the TKO

So let’s take Autumn’s nouns and stretch them to adjectives, verbs or, heck, give me some adverbs. And please, share. Let’s get interactive and show what good writers we ALL are. Or how we can help each other make every word count.

Comments

Elise Hayes says:

Hi Liz!

This is a topic near and dear to my heart right now–I’m really working on trying to make my writing much more fresh.

Here’s my offering for the morning, from Joanna Bourne, since she’s the writer I’m in the process of reading/analyzing for craft.

From _The Spymaster’s Lady_ (page 6):
“In the face of such bravery, she could not sit upon the [prison] floor and wail. French honor demanded a Frenchwoman meet death as courageously as an English. French honor always seemed to be demanding things of her. Bravery, of a sort, was a coin she was used to counterfeiting. Besides, the plan she was weaving might work. She might overcome Leblanc and escape the chateau and deal with these Albion plans that were the cause of so much trouble to her. And assuredly pigs might grow wings and fly around steeples all over town.”

There are lots of things to love about this passage. I chose it because of the final line–the comparison of her hopes for escape, for finding a way out of the key conundrum of the book (dealing with the Albion plans) to pigs growing wings and flying. She takes a cliche and brings it to life by putting that particular pig into a 19th century French town, filled with steeples to fly around.

I also love the image of bravery as a coin that she’s counterfeiting.

Love it. Great example.

Jeannie Lin says:

Ahem…someone always steals my Joanna Bourne examples. That’s what I loved about her writing. The way she turns an old phrase around to make it fresh is wonderful!

Liz Talley says:

Oh, my goodness, I’ve got to read this woman. Looked for her books in the bookstore last week, but I couldn’t find them. Just going to buy on my kindle, I guess.

I love the coin as bravery. What a great image. I love wordsmiths, and she’s definitely one. Thanks so much for sharing that. Great imagery, just plain, great writing.

Elisa Beatty says:

Oh, Amy! Run, don’t walk!

Laurie Kellogg says:

When I read a book with really fresh writing, I get so entertained by the language, I don’t even care if the plot is a little ordinary. One of my favorite scenes was by Susan Elizabeth Phillips (I think it was in Hot Shot, but I’m not totally sure). She characterized some nerdy genius by painting a picture with words to the effect of: His feet slogged down the hallway–black, brown, black, brown.

Liz Talley says:

Yep, that’s why I think SEP has such a devoted following. It’s the way she tells the story. I could pitch her story and an editor would be like “nah.” But she pulls you in by the throat with her language, her mood and tone. She’s just got it.

I’m only hoping to develop it.

Elisa Beatty says:

I’ve never read any SEP… praise for her around here has reached critical mass, so now I’ve got to go get a couple of her books. Any recommendations on what to start with?

(FYI, Amy–nice image on the language grabbing you by the throat!)

Liz Talley says:

Yeah, trying to practice what I preach ;)

As to SEP, she’s got lots to choose from. I like Ain’t She Sweet? the best. Probably because Sugar Beth is so flawed and so very human. And I love the story – very Southern in nature.

Laurie Kellogg says:

Me too, Liz! Ain’t she sweet is one of the best books I’ve ever read. When my friend was dying of a brain tumor, that’s the book I took to her.

Tina Joyce says:

Wow, Laurie, I had to come back in this morning and comment on the above line. This example stuck with me all night long, which is unusual! It actually made me see if I could hunt down this book to read the rest of it.

Eden Glenn says:

Great topic. I have also been working on trying to freshen up my writing. Went to a Margie Lawson workshop and got inspired. Excellent advise about not over doing it. I had a bowling ball, jack hammer and something else references all on one page. It was tooo much. lol

See how you like this excerpt from Dragon’s Mark.:
Set up:
Caleb and his twin Ethan receive premonitions in the form of early warning signals, i.e. psychic energy and have to basically figure out the meaning. Making metaphysical real grasping the threads of an event’s cosmic energy and following it to what they need to achieve. Caleb and Ethan work with a premonition of something bad happening that led them to Salynne’s Crystals and Thyme. Kinda new age curiosities kinda stuff. Our Heroine owns the store but they haven’t met her yet. The Shop hours sign indicates the store should be open but the door is locked.

See how this works for y’all. Would love feed back.
***
Caleb cupped his eyes and leaned against the glass window of the store to peer into the darkened interior.

“The place has nice vibes. I mean, for a girly fru fru woo-woo shop.”

The positive energy of the place brushed at him again. He pulled back from the glass and closed his eyes for a moment, following the sheer hint of silken power from the little shop. He searched once more for threads of energy, like a blind man sifting through clutter, examining and discarding items. There, the metaphysical pull, a tight, fine pluck.

“Come to me baby, let me get a hold on you.” He grasped another one to wrap with the silken fiber he already had. Praying for success as he began weaving the threads as he found them, hoping to grasp enough solve the mystery.

He reached with his talent, trying to bring his brother into the link without knocking him onto his ass from the force of the charge. “Ethan, I think I’ve got something.”

Ethan’s awareness joined Caleb stretching out to anchor the fragile slip of energy. His relief was palpable. “We’ve got it.”

Caleb exhaled. “Oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. This way, I think. Hurry.”

Now he’d caught onto the damn thread, anxiety bordering on sickness gripped him, twisting the uneasy churning in his belly with increasing urgency.

Does anything throw you out?

Blind man sifting through clutter is my fresh reference.

Anything too much telling instead of showing. I vacillated on the “relief was palatable”. I guess it is telling. But I like the lyrical sound.

Meh!

Eden

I very much like “blind man sifting through clutter.” It’s so fresh, actually, that you might be able to delete the rest of the sentence. It’s certainly not bad as it is — the whole thing is very smooth to my ear — but you could, if you wanted to simplify.

Elisa Beatty says:

oh, yeah…you could just drop “examing and discarding items.”

Eden, I loved it! Where do I get a signed copy?

Elisa Beatty says:

oops… I accidentally replied below.

Eden Glenn says:

Thanks everyone. I caught up with the below replies also. Good observations.

I think sometimes I get wrapped up in the flow and “poetry” of words. One of my C.P.’s jokes and now just puts DNT as her comment. (Don’t need this). lol

Autumn you are too kind. I’m beginning the soul sucking process of sending out query’s for agent representation now. Each rejection is a sand spur in my balloon of happiness.

Thanks everyone.

Liz Talley says:

Hey, that last line is a metaphor (just thought I’d point that out) and I must say effective. I feel the same way.

Imagery is SO hard for me sometimes. I’m the type of writer that tends to gloss over description because I’d rather get to the meat of the story, but I’ve realized while paying closer attention to detail and description in my current WIP that without that imagery, the story would not be half as powerful.

I love how authors can set the mood with a few, concrete, well-placed adjectives. I’m learning and will hopefully master that technique one day!

Liz Talley says:

I think it’s all about balance. You can’t have too much imagery or description, or the reader will get frustrated. Not enough, and the reader will not have a world in which he or she can escape.

That’s a huge task – balance in a manuscript.

I so agree. I think what Glen said about Margie’s class is right-on. You need to write fresh, but know when too much is too much.

Elisa Beatty says:

This is definitely right up Margie’s alley. In her EDITS system, description gets highlighted in green. You need some, but not too much. Action and dialogue need to predominate, with little jolts of visceral emotion and dabs of internalization. Again, if you don’t know Margie, check out margielawson.com. It’s really, truly useful.

Here goes the second line from my first book:

>
She grinned at the bartender as she walked past his station, a contiguous slab of long, gleaming oak against which men with slickly gelled hair leaned while eyeing the tight clusters of women scattered on the dance floor.
>

What I don’t like about this passage is the lack of rhythm. Like, “she grinned at the bartender as she walked past his station” is a rolling phrase, but the rest of it is clunky. I like sentences to sound more natural than this. I probably won’t change it — this manuscript is done, as far as I’m concerned — but given a second chance, I’d clean it up a bit.

Liz Talley says:

I’d probably break it up.

She grinned at the bartender as she walked past his station. He polished glasses behind a slab of contigous oak where gel-slicked guys perched ready to swoop on the clusters of women on the dance floor.

See here’s where I like imagery. They are perched and are going to swoop. Now they are predatory and the gel-spiked further gives tangibility to it because they are ready to attack. And the women are in clusters. So as predators they have to look it over to cull the one they want from their pack.

It’s subtle, but every woman knows how this feels.:)

That’s good, Liz. Perch and swoop say it all.

Fascinating — the bartender IS polishing glasses in my mind as the heroine walks by, but I didn’t write it. He’s just doing it in my head, nowhere else.

Perch and swoop. Lovely and frightening! This is fun! If only we had the time to do this to every line, but in a big novel, we don’t, not as much as we’d like. That’s one reason I like poetry, like several of the samples you gave above. Laboring over a handful of lines for a few weeks would be so pleasurable, but sadly, only meagerly saleable.

Liz Talley says:

I love the reference to the blind man sifting through clutter. The image clings to the mind. I also like that some of the setting is filtered through the dialogue – like the fru-fru, woo-woo description.

You seem a writer who is very similar to me. I sometimes over-describe and lose the reader. I think you’ve done a great job with this passage. Only thing I’d recommend is really taking a hard look at your tags and tightening his physical reactions. For example, when he’s weaving the threads, you might tighten there, abandoning the “praying for success” and “solve the mystery” and skip to including his brother. Not much else to tighten without leaving out important stuff.

Sounds good to me :)

Liz Talley says:

Sorry. This was to go above to Eden. I’m not having such a good day. Dropping everything, messing everything up. Anyone else having one of those?

I love the shorter figurative language – “blind man sifting through clutter”, now that’s perfect. But I’m a lazy reader and if it gets too long, I skip it. I really admire people who can write like that though, sigh. Good post. Thanks, Liz.

Elisa Beatty says:

I really like these two lines together:

“He searched once more for threads of energy, like a blind man sifting through clutter, examining and discarding items. There, the metaphysical pull, a tight, fine pluck.” Fresh, clear, and good rhythm too.

(By contrast, the final phrase of the first sentence–”to peer into the darkened store”–feels a little clunky. It’s already clear where he’s looking. Just leave it out, maybe saying “darkened store.”)

I also like “to anchor the fragile slip of energy.”

Sounds like a really interesting story!

Elisa Beatty says:

oops… my connection’s a little goofy today. This was meant to be a reply to Eden, above.

Okay, one short live from my current wip.

He had a plan, and she was a bug about to feel the underside of his boot.

Jeannie Lin says:

Awesome. Short, not so sweet, but very effective!

Liz Talley says:

:)

Eden Glenn says:

Aww Man. Now that says it all. Awesome job

Thanks, Eden. WINK.

Jeannie Lin says:

I was so tickled pink when I read this that I have to use it. It’s not a word picture, but definitely a masterful use of figurative language from Courtney Milan’s Proof by Seduction. In the book, she portrays the gruff hero, Gareth, so well and it’s absolutely key to the whole thing working:

“I don’t have any sugar to offer you,” she eventually essayed.

“Sugar.” Lord Blakely’s nostrils flared. “I do not take sugar,” he said in a voice of disdain.

It was the same tone of loathing Jenny imagined a bloodthirsty pirate would have employed to say, “I do not take prisoners.”

OOh. I just got this book! Can’t wait to read it.

oh, nice. Jonny Depp as a Lord. I could do get into that.

Elisa Beatty says:

Hee hee hee….yeah, there’s lots of good writing in that book.

I really need to read more. Sigh…

June says:

Have you ever had fate get up in your face and you have no choice but to bow to its will? Well, that just happened to me. As AWOL as I’ve been, I decided to visit the blog. My strongest weakness (yes, I said that) is imagery. Reading all the comments is a huge help. Sometimes fate can be a pain, but not today.

Glad to see your smile, June. I hope everything is good.

Liz Talley says:

So glad you came today, June. And that it was something you needed to hear. Isn’t it cool when that happens?

Rita says:

Don’t you love it when things like this happen?

Darynda Jones says:

This is one of my favorite subjects in writing ever!!! I adore figurative language and have really worked to master it. Some people can do it brilliantly, some not so much. I think it takes practice, like working a muscle, to make figurative language flow and mesh without throwing the reader out of the story. For one thing, it really should make sense and give the reader a true understanding of the text instead of confusing him/her.

Now the other side of me, the interpreter side, does not adore figurative language quite as much. Have you ever tried to translate the clouds are mean into another language? OH! And it’s Dr. Seuss week! NIGHTMARE!

Just kidding. The writer in me doesn’t mind so much.

Elisa Beatty says:

Wow… trying to sign thru Dr. Seuss.

That makes my teaching job seem easier.

Darynda Jones says:

Yeah, normally I do fairly well, then up cropped “A womp with a hump.” Sigh…

Gotta love the Doc, tho!

Tina Joyce says:

Too funny Darynda!

Liz Talley says:

Wow, that takes serious talent. Any we all already know you are a talented writer, but the thought of signing Suess…jeez.

Vivi Andrews says:

Mary Hughes always manages to blend the figurative and literal in a smooth, readable style. In “The Bite of Silence” she uses various paintings by great masters to describe the way different men kiss – puntilism vs impressionism. So brilliant.

Liz Talley says:

Huh. Now that’s different. Don’t think I ever would have thought of that. I guess my hubs is an impressionist. Little messy, but you get the picture anyway ;)

Rita says:

I recently judged a contest and the writer had brilliant imagery and figurative language IN EVERY SENTENCE. It was obvious they worked hard to write fresh, but by the time I was on page ten I really didn’t care anymore. It was way overdone. I feel it is a delicate balancing act. Pick and choose. Give the reader a few flawless diamonds not a bucket of cut glass.

Eden Glenn says:

Yeah, I got caught doing that, too. Hadn’t realized it but jeesh I had something like a bowling ball rolling down hill, like a jackhammer doing what jackhammers do through old concrete and some other goofie thing. Oh, a ping pong ball thing. All in one scene. Plueeeze I must have made the judges ears bleed. lol Ah well live and learn.

Tina Joyce says:

Love this Liz, and it was great reading all the examples! I’m a sucker for a beautiful descriptive sentence. I’m with Rita, too, in that it’s neat to find those jewels hidden here and there in a book…that’s what makes those particular phrases stand out. Throw them around like rocks, though, and they quickly lose their luster.

Liz Talley says:

Exactly, which is why I should have done a whole cooking analogy around this lesson. It’s like salt. Too much and nobody wants to read it…ahem, I mean eat it.

Gotta be careful. All about balance which is why Margie Lawson is so popular. Those highlighter things, while tiresome to employ, really do show how balanced you are as a writer.

Mary Jo says:

great job, Liz. Loved all your examples. I agree with you, Ain’t She Sweet, is one of the best I’ve ever read. thanks for the discussion

Tamara Hogan says:

Hi there, sorry I’m late to the party – but I just wanted to give a shout-out to Nalini Singh’s latest, “Archangel’s Kiss”, as a frickin’ MASTERCLASS in imagery and figurative language. The heroine, Elena, experiences people largely via scent, and I’ve never read so many distinct and evocative scent references in my life. Well-paced. Judiciously used. Gorgeous.

I bow down.

Liz Talley says:

I’ve heard so much about her. Even though I don’t do para, I probably need to pick up one of her books for artistry’s sake.

Hi, Liz. I’m sorry to be so unfashionably late here. What dreamy examples of figurative writing. Some authors make it seem so effortless. I’m envious!

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