A year or two ago one of my children handed me a post it note with a quote on it. “The best writing isn’t determined by what happens, but rather by word choice.” I have no idea who said it or where she found it, but it’s been on my writing wall ever since because it expresses a profound truth. Word choice is everything when writing, especially when it comes to the minute details that flesh out a story.
Just think about one of your favorite books and the emotions that it elicited. Perhaps it made you cry or laugh. Maybe parts of it felt so real that you flinched. I’m thinking about the books that seize us and hold us enthralled as we become the characters. Their emotions, setbacks, and triumphs become our own as we devour the book. Our hearts break a little when we turn the last page and discover blank paper. Our souls, reluctant to accept an end of the written story, cry out that there must be more.
What is it about these books that hold us captive?
I heard the answer this week in a historical documentary podcast. One of the historians said a phrase that struck me. It’s been on repeat in my head: “rich with evocative details.”
The best writing is “rich with evocative details.” Those tiny snippets of information serve as a close up lens to focus us on both the emotion and the action within a story. Effective details are the portal to connection. They are the difference between telling a story and showing a story so well that it becomes an immersive experience. As a writer, that’s what I want for my readers.
Anyone can write a telling sentence. For example: Lauren leaned over the toilet and threw up.
Adding details to engage our senses provides an entirely different experience.
Wishing for death and past caring about lurking germs, Lauren gripped the edge of the cold toilet with white knuckles as another wave of nausea ripped through her stomach and convulsed her throat, but there was nothing left to expel beyond a few drops of sour yellow acid that disappeared after a negligible splash.
Poor Lauren sounds like she’s been through a wringer. Did you notice that I never mentioned throw up in the second sentence? I didn’t have to because you knew exactly what she was doing by the action. That’s the power of detail. It gives us an investment in the story. It provokes response. Who is Lauren? Why is she vomiting? How long has this been going on? Is she going to be alright?
Maybe this has been running through my mind because I’m in the process of editing Riley’s Bad Luck. There’s a quote from Robert Frost that I love. He said, “No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.” I’m taking it to heart as I pore over my manuscript. It’s slow work, but rewarding. A few of the details I’ve added horrified me, which is great because the reader is supposed to be horrified at that moment.
On a broader note, imagine how rich our lives would be if we paid more attention to the evocative details around us. It’s the difference between living and existing. Go experience life and then write down the way it felt, tasted, smelled, looked, and sounded. You might amaze yourself.
*My 25 Days of Christmas Writing Challenge story from Instagram*
Photo courtesy of pexels.com
The bells on the door jingled as someone walked into the flower shop. Holly looked up with a smile. Her cheerful greeting died as she spied Aiden. Without thinking, Holly ducked down behind the poinsettias and prayed he wouldn’t notice her. She definitely was not ready to see him again.
It wasn’t pragmatic, but Holly hoped he’d go away if no one appeared to help him.
“Hello? Holly?”
She bit her lip and scooped up a few wilted leaves before she stood up. Aiden’s eyes widened as she popped up, but she pretended not to notice. “May I help you?”
His lips twitched. “Were you hiding?”
“I was cleaning.” She held up the leaves and glared at him.
“Oh-kay.” He stretched out the word as the corner of his mouth curled up.
Her eyes narrowed as she turned as blustery as the weather. “Not everything is about you, Aiden James.”
He took a step back. The smile disappeared from his face.
Holly refused to feel bad. It wasn’t her fault. He was responsible for everything.
Aiden took a deep breath as he glanced around the shop. “It sure looks festive in here. You did a good job making it Christmassy.”
“Are you serious? After what you did, I’m surprised you were brave enough to come in here.” The leaves crunched in her hands as she balled them into fists. “Why are you here?”
Aiden rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“I’m here to apologize.”
Holly’s mouth dropped. “What?”
“You were right to challenge me, but it scared me. I didn’t know what to do or say.” His gaze dropped to his toes and boomeranged back. “I’m really sorry for blowing you off and disappearing. I’ve regretted it every day since.”
Bits of dry leaf floated to the ground from her hand. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “You left, Aiden. Saying you’re sorry isn’t enough. This isn’t a sappy Hallmark movie, you know.”
“Believe me, Holly. I know. I’m not really here to ask you to take me back.”
Holly’s stomach clenched like she’d eaten a whole cake, dense heavy fruitcake. She had the overwhelming urge to heave. Her feelings hadn’t disappeared during his five week absence, but apparently his had. It wasn’t fair. “You’ve apologized, so maybe you should leave.”
“I’m not done,” he said. “Let me finish.”
She forgot the crumpled leaves in her hands and folded her arms. Bits stuck to her sweater, but she ignored them.
Aiden’s eyes were shadowed. “I’m not Scrooge. I know I won’t dream and wake up a changed man, but I’m working on being the kind of man you want.”
The flower shop felt suffocating. Heat crept up her neck into her cheeks. Had she heard him right? “What exactly are you here for?”
“I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but I hope you will give me one.”
“You are asking me to take you back, aren’t you?”
Aiden shook his head. “I’m not brave enough to ask for a miracle.”
Holly raised her eyebrows.
“I was hoping that you’d…” He shuffled his feet back and forth. “That is, I’d like to take you out to eat. Will you have dinner with me tonight?”
“Dinner? Tonight, with you?”
Aiden’s face lit up as he nodded.
Holly could not believe it. She’d been crushed when he’d garbled excuses and left without saying goodbye that night. After two years together, she deserved better than that, especially since all she’d done was ask if he ever thought about marriage.
“Please, Holly.”
If there had been any fire in his anxious voice, Holly would have turned him down flat, but the emotional strain in his voice was new. She’d never heard it before. Whatever his reason, he wanted time with her. Studying his earnest face and tense posture reassured her of that.
“Fine, we can have dinner.”
The stress in his face gave way to relief.
Holly held up her index finger. “One time.”
“Thank you, Holly.” His hand lifted, but he withdrew it before he touched her. “I’ll pick you up at seven when the shop closes.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
His short chuckle was subdued. “I guess I deserve that.”
“And more.”
She was surprised when he nodded in agreement. She expected a protest. Maybe he did regret walking away. Could the two of them still have a future? Could she learn to trust him again? Only time would tell.
“Meet me at Pete’s Pizza just after seven?”
“See you there.” Holly’s rebellious heart skipped a beat. They went there on their first date and held hands for the first time.
“You won’t regret it, I promise.”
“I better not,” she muttered under her breath as he exited the store.
Holly, her heart pounding, walked into Pete’s Pizza. She stopped inside the door and scanned the tables for Aiden. It felt like old times.
The door opened behind her. It was Aiden.
His grin bloomed. “Are you under the mistletoe on purpose?”
“What? No!” Holly jumped sideways, away from him.
“Relax, I’m just kidding.”
She sniffed. “I don’t remember your jokes being that bad.”
“If you’re going to forget things, forget Halloween. Don’t forget the good stuff.”
“Like our moonlit walks?”
He smiled and nodded.
“It’s going to take more than pizza and moonlight to make me forget about Halloween.”
“Holly, Aiden? Are you guys here together?” The hostess’s eyes bulged.
Holly blushed. Aiden nodded.
“Your favorite booth is open right now.”
Only Aiden’s hand on her back made Holly move. She’d rather wear a teddy bear costume at a toddler’s party than sit in the cozy romantic booth.
People noticed them. Low chatter filled Pete’s as they walked to the circular booth. Holly automatically slid into her side.
Aiden sat. “Maybe I should feel bad about sitting here, but I don’t. I’ve miss you, Holly.”
“You knew where I was, which is more than I can say about you.”
His shoulders slumped. “I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have walked away because I panicked.”
“Then why didn’t you come back?”
“After a few days I didn’t think you would forgive me.” He sighed.
“I was in love with you.”
“I still love you. I want to make it right.”
Holly shook her head. “I have a list of reasons to walk away. How can you possibly make it right?”
“I don’t know if I can, but I want to try.” He dug in his pocket. “I bought something three weeks ago. I hope to give it to you someday.”
Holly’s heart swooped like Santa’s sleigh as light twinkled off the diamond solitaire in his hand. Her jaw dropped. “Are you proposing?”
“Not yet. I have to earn back your trust first. I need you to know that’s where my heart is. I want to spend my life with you.”
“My trust isn’t that easy to earn.”
“I know, but it is worth waiting for.”
A passing waitress saw the ring and squealed. “Y’all are getting engaged?”
Her words rang through the restaurant. Thunderous applause, louder than fireworks, echoed through the small building.
Holly frowned and shook her head no.
The applause died.
Holly looked at Aiden, who stared at the ring.
“We aren’t engaged,” announced Holly. “But I think we will be eventually.”
Aiden’s head jerked up. The corners of his mouth lifted.
Relieved cheers rocked the restaurant as she scooted across the seat and into his open arms.
It’s only taken me six days into the new year to finalize my 2020 goals. My goals are something I don’t like to make in a rush. Since I intend to accomplish them all, I spend as much time possible pondering what I’d like to achieve before making them official. Today is the day.
There are ten goals on my list. Some are personal. Some are professional. Some are spiritual. One is even physical. All are achievable. That’s an important aspect of goal making for me. Grandiose goals are well and good, but if they aren’t achievable then it’s a pure waste of time. I’ll never been an award winning choreographer. I don’t even know how to dance beyond the moves that are guaranteed to embarrass my kids. It would be sheer lunacy to set a 2020 goal to win the Tony Award for choreography. If I was interested in dancing, I could set a goal to take dance lessons. The Tony would have to be a lifelong goal, and even then, it’s not that great of a goal. I’d rather set my sights on choreographing a show and doing my best work.
It’s not that I don’t believe in reaching for the stars. I do. One of my life ambitions is to have multiple novels published. It’s one of my overall goals, not one for any particular year. Instead I have related yearly goals. Learn more about the craft of writing. Write rough drafts. Do edits. Write second and third versions. Get critiques. More edits. Submit works. Those are the goals that will lead to being published. The plus side is that I’m being guided by my star without having to constantly beat myself up because I’m not published.
Like the Tony award example above, I don’t want to my books to be printed just so I can win awards. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll gladly accept tokens of achievement. My goal isn’t to be recognized for my writing, but rather to enrich someone’s life through a story I wrote. I’d rather help someone forget their troubles for a few hours than win a reward. I’d rather someone felt encouraged to keep trying after reading one of my books. Those are the real awards, and they don’t require dusting.
These are my official goals. Super achievable, and yet they will keep me focused on my end goal of being published.
Goal One: I currently have five or six books on my shelf about writing that I haven’t read. I can wimp out and read the three shortest ones. I can read the two longest and a short. It doesn’t matter as long as I read them. If I only get two read, well, it’s two more than I had read on January 1st.
Goal Two: Submitting Riley’s Bad Luck shouldn’t take too much. I’ve already prepared most of the documents required. I need to rework the beginning a wee bit and do a final edit to check for anything I might have missed. Coincidentally, it’s the goal I’m going to tackle first.
Goal Three: Peter’s Story was my NaNoWriMo project. By the time I stopped typing before Christmas, I reached 41,000 words. Getting our house painted and Christmas put the brakes on that project, but I’m ready to jump back in. Minimum 19,000 words to go!
Goal Four: I finished a version of Kate’s story in 2017 or early 2018. A very kind friend, who writes, reluctantly told me that I needed to work on conflict. That set me off on my intensive study of how to write books. I learned a lot. I’m indebted to her. Anyway, after all my studying and continued writing, I finally figured out a much more compelling conflict for that story. I also discovered how much I love writing in first person present, so Kate’s story is getting a necessary make over. I’m excited for this project as well. Actually, excited might be an understatement. I have to be patient, because some of the action in Kate’s story hinges on what happens in Peter’s book. By the way, both are part of my Rock Creek Chronicles series.
Goal Five: Book reviews, short stories, and writing updates should make at least one post a month doable. Right?!? I’m not at all flinching or looking sideways with a grimace as I type. Okay, I was. This might be the writing goal that gets me. Still, no beating myself up. It’s a goal, not an ultimatum.
Those are my writing goals for the year. Last year I had four, and accomplished three. The only one I didn’t quite get done was finish Riley’s Bad Luck. It’s so close that I’m counting it as a win anyway.
What about you? Do you make goals for each year?
May 2020 be a year you discover joy in your journey and achieve personal and professional growth!
Karen Tezen Writes 