Writing Active Setting Book 1: Characterization and Sensory Detail by Mary Buckham Read Free Book Online Page A

, but can act as a metaphor rich in symbolism for the POV character. One character standing in a n Iowa cornfield, feeling the wind and the sun enveloping them, feels nurtured and can taste the richness of the soil, the expanse of the Setting. Another character in the very same Setting can feel the dirt coating their tongue, the sun beating against them, drying their skin, sucking the very life out of them with its relentless sameness.
    Think of the feel of different times of the day during different seasons. I moved from a four-season climate to a two-season climate and am still waiting for certain sensory cues as to what season it is based on daily temperatures.
    But think beyond simple hot, warm, cold. One character who is very athletic or runs on a warmer body core temperature [many men, especially young men, can fall into this category] may find an environment just to their liking whereas another character in the same environment is shivering. [I’m always that other character!]. Also think of other tactile experiences — what does wind feel like? Or fog? Or dry dust in the air vs. humidity?
    Smell is a wealth of communication. Were you aware that after three months we retain only 30% of our visual memory , but even after a year we retain 100% of smell memory? Smell activates our primordial or the oldest part of our brains, so if you are missing scents on the page, you’re missing a very subtle but powerful element of sensory detail.
    The following descriptions come from an interview with a Norwegian Scent Researcher. She is describing some of the locations she has visited to collect samples of scent.
     
    Havana . It smells sensual, of Cuba Libre [a rum, cola , and lime cocktail], coffee, dogs , and freshly washed laundry fluttering on endless balconies. The streets smell like they are crumbling, decaying, rotting. But unlike cities in the United States , Havana has been doing this for centuries. It rots in style. Berlin’s Neukӧlln neighborhood is the closest you can get to Istanbul: sunflower oil, bread, dry cleaning, laundry detergent, tobacco, cheap aftershave, and kebabs. The outlying Colonia Hacienda de Echegaray district in Mexico City smells of fake leather boots, co rn, dust, concrete, cocoa, burnt and moldy earth, plastic, sweat, chili peppers, and hot straw.
     
    One or two sentences max and a reader is in Cuba , Istanbul , or Mexico City . When we smell fake leather boots, burnt or moldy earth, plastic, sweat, and hot straw, we add to those smells an image of run-down neighborhoods, stray dogs, a city that’s a working-man’s world, because we fill in the blanks based on what we smell.
    Scents can evoke memories so strongly. I love the smell of lilies whereas my mother detests the same smell because they remind her of her mother’s funeral. Have you ever been overwhelmed in a new location because everything is new and different and the scents are what finally cause you to be overstimulated to the point you walk away with a pounding headache? Some scents mean pleasur e — b aking cookies, the smell of a new book, the warm scent of a babies’ skin when you nuzzle their heads. Others evoke just the opposite respons e — t he musty smell of damp basements, strong perfume in a small elevator, moldy bread.
     
    Don’t think that adding sensory detail means adding pages and pages of words and do remember to be specific. It smelled nice or of summer flowers doesn’t tell the reader much and the words are not working hard enough for your story.
     
    Note : Make sure that your sensory details are specific to the Setting of your story and filtered through a specific POV character’s awareness.
     
    Watch how mystery writer Nancy Pickard quickly orients a reader as to Setting by focusing in mostly on sounds in this paragraph.
     
    Students looked up at us curiously from inside their classrooms as we walked past. Teachers’ voices jarred the air, like different radio stations turned up too loud. Somewhere a