The craft lesson that became the foundation of my writing
One of my early writing teachers changed my life from the very first homework assignment. It went as follows:
You have one day to come up with 20 different ways to say, “The dog was brown.”
Yes, really.
The sentences I concocted back then are unfortunately lost to the ether, but I distinctly remember failing to come up with twenty. I think I brought something like ten or twelve descriptions to class the next day, feeling like a failure. However, I wasn’t alone. Almost none of my classmates managed to return with twenty. Our teacher was satisfied anyway. Why? Because we returned with our writer brains pushed to the limit and fundamentally changed forever.
Before I explain what this exercise taught me, let’s backtrack. I’ll do the assignment again right here, right now, completely on the fly. No stopping to think, second guess, or cringe. I’m here to flex my imagination. That’s all.
The dog was brown.
The dog was the color of its own shit.
The dog could’ve rolled in feces and I wouldn’t have seen the difference.
The dog’s name was Chocolate, for obvious reasons.
The dog rubbed his face on my clean sofa and left tufts of brown fur behind.
I’d rather the dog slobber in my lap than scatter brown fur on my white carpet.
The dog’s coat color had concealed how muddy he really was.
A dog yapped near my ankle. I nearly slipped on the damp, earthy trail. The dog’s dark coat had camouflaged it against the dirt.
Far from twenty sentences, but you get the gist. As you can see, these descriptions all establish the same information (the coat color), but they get progressively more specific (and often rely on outside information). Are they all bangers? No. But this exercise forces the author to convey information in subjective, context-reliant ways. These kinds of descriptions lean into the POV character’s world and opinions, which then creates a dynamic and unique internal experience. In short: This exercise helps develop immersive voice.
(Caveat: Keep in mind that authorial voice encompasses more than character. It is very hard to define. This exercise simply generates an “aha!” moment that can help writers get closer to identifying theirs.)
Ready for homework? Try this exercise yourself. Pull emotionless descriptions from your book. Look for sentences like, “The walls were beige,” “The sunset was pink,” “The fire was hot,” etc. Aim for twenty different ways to write that sentence. That should help you repurpose those descriptions into subjective observations that plunge the reader into your POV character’s mind.
Never forget: Improvement doesn’t happen without intention. The more you flex this muscle, the more it’ll become instinct. So flex it often.