When we have a clear image of a place or a moment in our heads as writers and we want to convey this picture to our readers, multiple challenges arise. How long should our descriptions be? How do we make sure description doesn’t kill the momentum of the story? How much is too much?
What should we leave up to our readers’ imaginations?
Yet in all of the questions about description, one stylistic choice can dramatically improve the end result: cut the sensory verbs that introduce your description.
Let’s take a look at two examples to showcase my point.
Example 1: He saw the vulture fly over the woods and circle back, and he heard movement in the brush below. Johnny was still and waited, smelling the pine needs of the loblollies and feeling the wind with the cool hint of coming rain.
Sure, it’s not terrible. A scene is being shared with readers, and multiple senses are included, which always makes description more vivid. However, do you see a difference when we strike all of the sensory verbs (i.e., “saw,” “heard,” “smelling,” and “feeling”)?
Example 2: The vulture flew over the woods and circled back, and movement jarred the leaves in the brush below. Johnny was still and waited, surrounded by the smell of pine needles from the tall loblollies. The cool wind hinting of rain blew on his skin, giving him goosebumps.
Oftentimes, we use our characters as stand-ins, letting our readers imagine themselves in these different shoes. Yet when we always introduce our descriptions with these sensory verbs (he saw/heard/felt/smelled/tasted), the effect is weakened. We’re reminded of a character rather than the place we’re trying hard to describe. Momentum is slowed because of wordiness.
Whether you’re writing fiction or nonfiction, examine your descriptions closely. Are you using sensory verbs as unnecessary filler? Why waste time on unnecessary introductions when you have the chance to simply make the story come alive?