So specificity—what exactly am I talking about, and why is it so great?
What I’m talking about is simply being specific in our choice of words. Generality is the death of the novel. Generality brings nada to the table.
Consider some examples of general writing:
- “I took a sip of something hot.”
- “I got dressed up in something pretty.”
- “I stabbed him with something sharp.”
If I’m the narrator in this story, then what are these sentences telling readers about me? All they know is I’m sipping, dressing, and stabbing (kudos on the vivid verbs) but they have no idea whether I’m sipping mulled cider, coffee, or lemon and vinegar. They can’t visualize what I’m wearing. And they have no idea what I’m defending myself with. In other words, I’ve left them blind. Instead of taking advantage of my story’s Technicolor possibilities, I’ve left it in boring black and white.
The remedy for this, of course, is to dig a little deeper and specify what your character is doing, seeing, touching, smelling, tasting.
If I’m sipping a cinnamon mocha latte, dressing up in a white sundress and wedge sandals, and stabbing him (whoever him is, although he presumably deserved it) with a three-inch hat pin, now we’re talking.
Now readers have some details to grab hold of. Instead of leaving characters floating in a sea of nebulousness, supply readers with concrete facts with which their imaginations can build a complete, full-color, surround-sound story. If you can do that, I guarantee your prose will come bouncing into life!
