And there was the house, with shimmering yellow walls and black-painted iron gates and tall skinny trees at attention in front; there was a wide tennis lawn, and the pool in the back where the boy had drowned.
Powerful! There is a sense of order with the "shimmering yellow walls" and the gates, the tall skinny trees. A sense of wealth enters with the tennis court and pool, and then the gut-punch: "the boy had drowned."
So good! Everything is falling apart, fraying and then we come to the two at that end that upset that conclusion. The reader is now more engaged because the details create nuance and ambiguity.
A very simple attempt at scene setting near the Arc de Triomphe, Barcelona. I tried placing the adjective/noun in the center of the three, but it disrupted the rhythm.
Into the alley, cheerful parrots, cobblestones steaming and laundry fluttering, the fuchsia bougainvillea and sausage aroma.
In the shelter of the stable , they huddled , the thunderstorm shuddering the air, stirring the peaty smell of wet hay, and worrying a nervous sweat -sheen on the horses.
Hi Nina, This exercise was a helpful reminder to keep the character at the forefront of the sentence / scene we are writing about. While it was easy to imagine all sorts of images filling the scene (I came up with a list of about 15), it was a challenge to select the ones that my character would find herself dwelling on in such a way that it both lets the reader in on something significant about her and adds to the unfolding story.
In the cold air, a hint of freshly turned earth, the unmistakable thud of the first shovelful of soil hitting the coffin, the grave fills, the Rabbi recites God full of compassion, the first delicious spring breeze brushes over me, what else is there?
There is a beautiful movement to this sentence, from death and all the sensory details--the smell of the earth, the sound of the soil hitting the coffin, the Rabbi speaking--to life through the image of spring. Yes!
With shimmer of sun, wisp of wind and a rushing robin, the forest showed where to enter a narrow path paved with needles and cones, guarded by ancient pines, and then the girl was swallowed up entirely.
Beyond the ropes, the vacant–but not virgin–canvas, crushed cups and blood smeared, the stench from pooling sweat and the scent of victory.
Oh, I love the surprise at the end--the "scent of victory." Everything is lining up except the last one.
My effort
In the sitting room, the frightful clutter and pathetic disorder and feline lingering, the sun’s rays and shabby curtains.
Lovely! I have a sense of the protagonist's life and all the figurative implications of "frightful clutter" and "pathetic disorder"
And there was the house, with shimmering yellow walls and black-painted iron gates and tall skinny trees at attention in front; there was a wide tennis lawn, and the pool in the back where the boy had drowned.
Powerful! There is a sense of order with the "shimmering yellow walls" and the gates, the tall skinny trees. A sense of wealth enters with the tennis court and pool, and then the gut-punch: "the boy had drowned."
Thanks, Nina!
Great sentence, Vishal. You nailed the ‘waking up the reader.’
Thanks, Terry. I always look forward to what you write!
Inside the trailer, the tattered carpet and floor cracking and saggy mattress, the warm shower and snug socks.
So good! Everything is falling apart, fraying and then we come to the two at that end that upset that conclusion. The reader is now more engaged because the details create nuance and ambiguity.
Thank you, Nina!
A very simple attempt at scene setting near the Arc de Triomphe, Barcelona. I tried placing the adjective/noun in the center of the three, but it disrupted the rhythm.
Into the alley, cheerful parrots, cobblestones steaming and laundry fluttering, the fuchsia bougainvillea and sausage aroma.
So good! So many sensory details, and I get a sense of the protagonist--out of all the things to experience, this protagonist isolated these elements.
My attempt:
In the coffee shop morning, the wrinkled napkins and foam spilling, the stained wood grain and buttoned cotton shirts.
Great! Everything is aligning, giving a sense of disorder and perhaps chaos and then we come to the near perfection of "buttoned cotton shirts."
My try :
In the shelter of the stable , they huddled , the thunderstorm shuddering the air, stirring the peaty smell of wet hay, and worrying a nervous sweat -sheen on the horses.
Wonderful! I love "worrying a nervous sweat-sheen on the horses." I can see this so vividly.
Loving all your words. Here goes!
Then at the circus tent, the bouncy apparel and buffonery rampaging and meaty stench, the blithe honking and painted-over despondency.
With this list, I really get a sense of the protagonist. These are such original and unique details.
Thank you, Nina!
It’s so good! I hope you keep going with it!
Yes, yes! I'll take that sentence out for a cup of coffee and see where we go from there. :)
In the studio, the grateful day extras and rheumy prop hands and two-packs-a-day fumes, the scaffolded city and revealing arc lamps.
Great! The compression is wonderful. I get a sense of life in the studio and beyond it.
Hi Nina, This exercise was a helpful reminder to keep the character at the forefront of the sentence / scene we are writing about. While it was easy to imagine all sorts of images filling the scene (I came up with a list of about 15), it was a challenge to select the ones that my character would find herself dwelling on in such a way that it both lets the reader in on something significant about her and adds to the unfolding story.
I’m so glad it added this dimension to your work!
In the cold air, a hint of freshly turned earth, the unmistakable thud of the first shovelful of soil hitting the coffin, the grave fills, the Rabbi recites God full of compassion, the first delicious spring breeze brushes over me, what else is there?
There is a beautiful movement to this sentence, from death and all the sensory details--the smell of the earth, the sound of the soil hitting the coffin, the Rabbi speaking--to life through the image of spring. Yes!
With shimmer of sun, wisp of wind and a rushing robin, the forest showed where to enter a narrow path paved with needles and cones, guarded by ancient pines, and then the girl was swallowed up entirely.