Word Painting

Since I'm pressed for time and falling behind, my post is about a book I read last year...Word Painting: A Guide to Writing More Descriptively by Rebecca McClanahan. I only finished part of the book, so I'm re-reading in anticipation of an upcoming project.

McClanahan advises going beyond the labeling prevalent in fiction. By labeling, she means those conventional terms we use to describe something. Such as lovely, gross, sweet, inspiring, depressing, etc. Those are conclusions. Don't do them. Approach description from the backend, first. Why is the object lovely? Gross? Sweet? Doing it this way is sure to help the writer avoid cliches, and come up with a vivid and original description.

In a very hippie kind of way, she suggests really looking at an object and letting it speak to you, whispering it attributes. So, I'm sitting in La Madeleine, reading this book, drinking French roast coffee with half and half. I tried to eat part of a spinach quiche, but all that crust was gross. (No, I'm not being overly descriptive here. You wouldn't want me to).

Okay. I decide to give it a try. For real. I look at the vase on the perfectly square table. It has two carnations. One red. One white. And some baby's breath. Here's what I wrote:

The white carnation has stiff white peaks much like beaten egg whites. It is surrounded by baby's breath that reminds me of a cluster of bright white stars on a cold winter's night. The carnation stem is a deep green, folding and rolling in on itself like carefully wrapped tissue paper.

Not great, but not horrid either. I think I see where the author is going with this and I think I can roll with it.

Try it! And leave a description of something on your desk...like say, your mouse!


Tear shaped and metallic blue with rubber bumpers, the Dynex mouse slid across the pad without the aid of the typical track ball.