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Friday, May 3, 2019


Are you a reader who loves descriptions and details of settings? Glittering ballrooms, the bone-chilling cold of a winter in the Rockies…or maybe the oppressive, killing heat of the desert? What about something idyllic, like a river or creek babbling through the woods? A beautiful rose garden, or even the ugly side of description—such as barren prison walls, or a Civil War battlefield?
It depends on the story, doesn’t it, and again, how much importance those descriptions have on the impact of the action, and the outcome of the story.

Let’s use a ball as our example.
If you’ve never been to an 1800’s ball—and none of us have—we need to know at least the barest details.

Five basic things we need to know are:
What is a ball?
Why is the ball being given?
Who will be invited?
When will the ball be given?
Where will it be held?

That’s enough for some stories. But the main question is—how important is the ball to the plot?

This is where layering comes in—and this one scene, and the details it contains—can be vital to what comes next, or even many scenes later.
So many things can happen at a ball!

Guests can meet for the first time, uninvited guests can show up, clothing can have significance, music can bring back memories, the food can even be poisoned!

Or, the ball can just be a ball, like the old saying attributed to Sigmund Freud, “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar…” –and if that’s the case, then tedious description and intricate detail is wasted because the ball is just a vehicle to get from one scene in the story to the next, and has no real underlying importance.

Describing the details of the clothing worn is sometimes distracting as it pulls us away from the action. We may be reading about a blue satin gown when we need to be concentrating on the man who lurks in the shadows. Too much description can bog down the reader and deaden the story rather than bring it to life.

Why? Because deep description of the things such as décor, clothing, and meals stop the action of the characters. The plot “takes a break” while our minds process all of the description of the scenery, the meals, the clothing. In this case, again, sometimes, “less is more” and we need to let the reader’s mind fill in much of that kind of detail.

Consider this: We know certain facts—a ball costs a lot of money to host. So we already understand that those who are invited are most likely people who move in the same upper crust social circles. Therefore, we know they, too, have money, so are appropriately dressed, arrive in style, and are schooled in proper societal customs. One excellent way to cut through the “red tape” of description (of things we already know) is to describe something that is out of place, or “not right” as this reminds us of what should be—and those details of descriptions we’re already aware of.

Perhaps an impostor at the ball commits a social faux pas without realizing it, alerting others to the fact she isn’t who she pretends to be. Maybe an unlikely hero comes to her aid quickly, offering an excuse, or correcting the mistake before others notice.
This scenario does several things for the story that simple description can’t achieve.

1. Points out the discrepancy in what should be and what is.
2. Allows our characters interaction, and possibly dialogue and observation, rather than the author filling the page with scenic description.
3. Allows the reader the opportunity to learn more about the characters and their personalities through this interaction, and can be a vehicle to reveal something of importance.
4. Can possibly further the action during such a scene rather than slowing it by miles of scenic description.

This is not to say that there isn’t a time and a place for detailed descriptions of settings! We can’t call ourselves authors and take the “easy” way out by saying, “It was a ball like any other” by way of description, unless—we put it in the right context.

How about this:
Jake looked around at the opulent ballroom –the surroundings were familiar in a tiresome, cloying way. Or…maybe was jaded. It was a ball like any other—except for one thing. Something that made him catch his breath and inwardly let go a streak of curses he’d love to shout to the skies. She was here. The woman he’d thought he’d never see again…

Well, anything can happen now, can’t it? Maybe she’s wearing an inappropriate shade of red amidst a sea of violet and blue. There are so many ways to make setting come alive without endless description that many readers become bored with and skim over.
If you read my last installment of this blog series about main characters, the examples I used from Shane (Jack Schaefer) and St. Agnes’ Stand (Tom Eidson) are also prime examples of description of setting as well as character.

But here’s another good one I really think is wonderful from Conagher, by Louis L’Amour. In this story, Evie from “back East” has come out west to marry a man with two children. Evie tries to make the best of things, but she lives in fear at first. The land is so different, After she’s been there a while, she finds there is a beauty in her surroundings she had to grow to love, in time.

As L’Amour describes the heroine's (Evie) dismal hopelessness at the land her husband (Jacob) has brought her to, we wonder how she will survive. Yet, Jacob has plans, sees the possibilities that Evie cannot, or will not see. The underlying message is, "The land is what we make of it."

As the story continues, she begins to appreciate the beauty of the prairie, while acknowledging the solitary loneliness of her existence. She plants a garden, nurturing the plants, and gradually she sees the farm being shaped into a good home from the ramshackle place she'd first laid eyes on.

The land is beautiful, but unforgiving. Her husband is killed in a freak accident, and for months she doesn't know what has happened to him. She faces the responsibility of raising his two children from a previous marriage alone.

In her loneliness, she begins to write notes describing her feelings and ties them to tumbleweeds. The wind scatters the notes and tumbleweeds across the prairie. Conagher, a loner, begins to wonder who could be writing them, and slowly comes to believe that whomever it is, these notes are meant for him.

At one point, visitors come from back East. One of them says to Evie something to the effect of "I don't know how you can stand it here."
This is Evie's response to her:

"I love it here," she said suddenly. "I think there is something here, something more than all you see and feel…it's in the wind.

"Oh, it is very hard!" she went on. "I miss women to talk to, I miss the things we had back East–the band concerts, the dances. The only time when we see anyone is like now, when the stage comes. But you do not know what music is until you have heard the wind in the cedars, or the far-off wind in the pines. Someday I am going to get on a horse and ride out there"–she pointed toward the wide grass before them–"until I can see the other side…if there is another side."

The land, at first her nemesis, has become not only a friend, but a soulmate. L’Amour gives us this description through Evie’s eyes and feelings, not in writing about it from his perspective as the author.

Think of your own writing projects, and books you've read. What importance do you give setting in description, plot, even characterization? Within 40 pages of 'Conagher', we understand that the land, with all its wild beauty and dangers has become enmeshed in Evie's character. She can't leave it, and it will never leave her.

Endless, detailed description can’t do what L’Amour does through Evie’s eyes in a very few sentences. Do you have a favorite description of a setting you've read about or written about?


  1. Hi, Cheryl, I'm just taking a break from trying to write a ballroom scene. How timely! I was pondering how much detail to put in. Ironically, the heroine is an uninvited guest and she's wearing what? A red dress! The color of which draws the attention of a couple of ladies the Hero is with which draws his attention to the woman he thought he'd never see again!
    You're right about too much detail taking the reader out of the story. I recently finished a historical western novel set in a town that will feature in my book. As a writer the level of detail was invaluable. As a reader, I had to keep referring to the dictionary or stop to look up images of what the author was talking about.
    Sometimes you do read a description of the setting that totally transports you like the excerpt above. But I worry over writing settings more than anything! I don't want the descriptions to come across as a shopping list, so try to weave it in in a subtle manner.
    Thanks for this post. And when you get my next MS and read about a girl in a red dress calling attention to herself at a's just a coincidence you mentioned it first. (poor girl)

    1. HAHAHAAAAA! You make me laugh, Patti! Like you, settings are the bane of my existence as a writer. Because I've read so many descriptions that just go on and on and heard so many people talk about how that kind of writing bores them and makes them skim. Well, for cryin' out loud, we don't want THAT as writers! "Weave" is the perfect word for what we have to try to do with settings. And I think there are so many authors who do this so well in different genres.

      I look forward to the girl in the red dress, Patti!

  2. Hi Cheryl,
    This is a wonderful writing series and advice. Louis L'Amour is a brilliant author. I agree, Patti, that it's tricky sometimes to adovid the shopping list aspect of describing setting. Putting it firmly in the POV of a character seems a great way to do so.
    That said, I love JRR Tolkien's descriptions of settings in his Lord of the Rings story, particularly the marshes.

    1. Thanks, Lindsay! Glad you are enjoying it. I'm working on the 4th one and I think there will be at least a total of 6. Gosh there are so many great examples I want to include, and can't use them all... LOL Yes, you're right--there are some great descriptions of settings that DO have a lot more detail than probably I could ever use skillfully enough to keep my readers' interest--I admire authors like Tolkien (who doesn't?) -- when I "grow up" I would love to write like him and others I've mentioned, (and some I haven't been able to for lack of space.)

  3. A touch of layering to a scene certainly makes that scene come alive, but some authors (even famous ones) get carried away on some descriptions. I loved the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon, but I will confess, those long diatribes about botanicals became wearisome in places and brought the story into a snail's pace. I skipped some of those relentless yammerings even though I love her work.

    So, I agree with you about choosing how important something is to the story line before getting in too deep.

    Thanks for this posting, Cheryl. It's a good reminder about paying attention to this detail in our writing. I'm certain I have committed this sin along the way.

  4. LOL OH MY GOSH! YOU MADE ME LAUGH! I felt the same way. I loved those books of Gabaldon's but yes, even though I normally don't "skim" I did in some of those descriptions.

    Glad you enjoyed this post, Sarah. I'm hoping to get the rest of this series written before I'm too old to remember what I was working on. LOL

  5. Great post. It really does show us how it's important to set a scene, but give the reader enough freedom to colour it with their own imagination.

    1. Yes, Christine, and writers are all so different, so it's hard to say there are "rules" for any particular thing. I've often thought about that--Stephen King defied all "rules" and look what he did. Even if you don't like his work, you have to admit he turned everything upside down and made us see writing/books completely differently in so many ways.