I’m surprised now, after over thirty published novels,
that I used to miss that basic principle in my earlier books. I’ll be working
on the next book in a series and jump back to the last book to see what I’d
said—and discover that the character walked on and off without a word of
description.
So description has become one of those things
I’ve trained my brain to do. Every time a new character walks on, give him or
her some particular detail that establishes the character in the reader’s mind.
Here’s the opening paragraph from my latest M/M
romance, A Cold Wind:
Slava
Vishinev leaned back in the giant Roman tub of his luxury apartment in the
Palazzo Raphael, at the edge of the Mediterranean in Monaco. He let the warm
water slosh over his beefy thighs and then up, submerging his thick penis, then
covering his broad chest. It was still a good body, he thought, though gray
hairs had invaded his pubic thatch and the shag beneath his pecs. Too bad there
was no one to see it.
I like the way the character is introduced doing
something, even if it’s just taking a bath, and by including details of his
gray hair, I can establish that he’s an older man without citing a particular
age.
I try to use interesting language in
descriptions, especially when they come so early in the book. Verbs like slosh,
submerging and invaded add some oomph to the picture I’m painting.
Description can also indicate the attitude of
the point of view character. Here’s the way Aidan Greene, one of the two heroes
of the Have
Body, Will Guard series looks at his partner:
Liam’s
body was so well-sculpted it was like being up close and naked with
Michelangelo’s David, though in flesh rather than stone. Broad shoulders, beefy
biceps, a narrow waist, and a dick that was generous even in repose. His ass
was tight, his thighs and calves well-muscled. Sure, some of his blond chest
hairs had faded to white, and occasionally his bones creaked, but he was still
the most amazing man Aidan had ever been with.
Can you tell that aging is one of the themes of
the book?
Sometimes I can get away with using dialogue for
description, as in this case, where Aidan and Liam’s neighbor, Thierry, is
showing their little dog Hayam around his house:
He stood up, holding the dog in his arms, and began
introducing her to Gabriel. “See how I am so skinny and Gabriel, he had more
weight on him,” he said, pointing at one photo. “We had friends who said they
reminded us of the American comedians, Laurel and Hardy.”
The technique Thierry is using is one I teach in
my English lit classes, called “allusion,” which means referring to some shared
cultural reference. I’m depending on the reader knowing who Laurel and Hardy
are.
The best details, in my opinion, are ones that serve
multiple purposes. For example, in this introduction of one of the regular
supporting characters, a Tunisian-born architect named Hassan:
Louis’s
husband was a slim man with skin the color of milky coffee, his dark hair
artfully styled to cover a small bald spot. He was a few inches shorter than
Aidan.
I’ve gotten across a couple of things
here—first, these two men are married, or at least comfortable enough with each
other to use the term husband. In addition to his general look I’ve established
that he’s a bit vain—the way his hair is “artfully styled to cover a small bald
spot.”
So I believe that my critique group is correct
when they point out missing descriptions, because there’s so much more that be
conveyed than simple details.
Please snag your copy of A COLD WIND at Loose Id here
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