Bringing in the Body

BY C.M. MAYO — December 13, 2021
UPDATE: This blog was then entitled Madam Mayo (2006-2022).

This blog posts on Mondays. Second Mondays of the month I devote to my writing workshop students and anyone else interested in creative writing. Welcome!

> For the archive of workshop posts click here.

In most of the manuscripts I’ve seen in writers workshops, the characters… sort of… ummm… float kinda sorta in space? When they do appear more concretely, their bodies, gestures, physical interactions with other bodies and things tend to be generic, e.g., the tall black man stood; the short blonde woman was sitting; the Asian man nodded. She looked. He shrugged.

It gets kind cardboard-cutout-y.

Oh, and these characters also do a lot of taking sips of drinks.

Well, OK, sometimes a character’s black or Asian or blonde or whatever, and he or she or zhe’s gotta stand and/or nod and/or shrug and/or take a sip. But it isn’t gain-of-function research to grab a floccule more oomph from the Vividness Department. Take just a moment to dig around there in your imagination—and this could, literally, cost you less than 20 seconds in some instances— and then, with your thoughtfully selected detail (or two or three), you can guide your reader to see your characters and the scene with more specificity, that is to say, more vividly.

(But what about clutter? You might hasten to ask. I do the whack-a-mole on clutter here. )

How to come up with vivid detail? One of the best ways to get click-your-fingers fast with vivid detail is to read as a writer. Reading as writer is not the same as reading passively, for entertainment. Nor is it reading to bag some trophy-worthy-theme as for your PhD thesis on race, class, gender & intersectionality, but rather, simply, when you spot something you—you the fellow literary artist— think an author does especially well, take note. I would suggest that you check it or circle it or underline it (or all three) with your pencil and, should you feel so moved, copy it out in your notebook. Then, perhaps take another moment to try some permutation exercises.

Recently I was reading Bernard DeVoto’s The Western Paradox when this struck me:

“We headed toward Flagstaff from Bakersfield. In August the lower end of the San Joaquin Valley is wrapped in a brown heat-haze which I have never fully understood, for assuredly there is no water vapor in it. A reek of crude oil goes with it; the sky is a steel-white; one does not rest a forearm on the car door.
Bernard DeVoto, The Western Paradox (p. 195)

Rest a forearm on the car door—Bingo! Dear writerly reader, is this not by a league more vivid in your mind than, say, “it was a really hot day”? We’re no longer kinda sorta floating around; we are in a body— a body with a forearm that avoids resting on the car door!

As I went on to read Willa Cather’s novels My Ántonia and O Pioneers! I kept an eye out for how she handles bodies— not only in how she makes the characters more vivid and/or grounds them in the scene, but has them relate physically to each other. (And I would wager that any author whose work you especially admire and enjoy reading is doing this splendidly well— else you wouldn’t be bothering to read them and so admiringly. So I would suggest that you go to your own bookshelf of books you have already read and loved, and reread one or two with an eye to how these authors handle detail relating to the body.)

Cather never disappoints.

“As Ántonia turned over the pictures the young Cuzaks stood behind her chair, looking over her shoulder with interested faces. Nina and Jan, after trying to see round the taller ones, quietly brought a chair, climbed up on it, ansd stood close together, looking. The little boy forgot his shyness and grinned delightedly when familiar faces came into view. In the group about Ántonia I was conscious of a kind of physical harmony. They leaned this way and that, and were not afraid to touch each other. ..”
Willa Cather, My Ántonia

“Three three pretty young Swedish girls who did Alexandra’s housework were cutting pies, refilling coffee cups, placing platters of bread and meat and potatoes upon the red tablecloth, and continually getting in each other’s way between the table and the stove.”
Willa Cather, O Pioneers!

“Frank went into the house and threw himself on the sofa, his face to the wall, his clenched fist on his hip. Marie, having seen her guests off, came in and put her hand coaxingly on his shoulder.”
—Willa Cather, O Pioneers!

She put her hand on his arm. “I needed you terribly when it happened, Carl. I cried for you at night”
….
Carl pressed her hand in silence.
—Willa Cather, O Pioneers!

“Emil rubbed his knees thoughtfully”
—Willa Cather, O Pioneers!

And from some random other reading:

“But it is true that a lot of work gets done over two-hour ceremonial luncheons, and more than once, after such an occasion, I wobbled out like a stunned ox, vowing to change jobs before I acquired gout and a faintly British accent.”
— Michael Collins, Carrying the Fire: An Astronaut’s Journeys

By the side of this fortress-door hung a heavy iron bell-pull, ending in a mermaid. When first Mrs. Lucas had that installed, it was a bell-pull in the sense that an extremely athletic man could, if he used both hands and planted both feet firmly, cause it to move, so that a huge bronze bell swung in the servants’ passage and eventually gave tongue (if the athlete continued pulling) with vibrations so sonorous that the whitewash from the ceiling fell down in flakes.”
—E.F. Benson, Queen Lucia

*

A WEE WRITING EXERCISE

As one character is speaking, what else can another character do besides, say, “rub his knees thoughtfully”? Oh, plenty! Here goes:

Joe slowly rubbed his elbow.

Elmira dabbed a finger under eye, as if to remove a fleck of mascara that wasn’t there.

Patsy slipped both hands, palms out, into her back pockets.

Lou took up his cup of tea and then, with a nearly inaudible sigh, leaned sideways into the pillows.

A wee exercise: To this list, add 5 more examples of your own and use the names Puddleton, Jamilla and Fred (because I say so). Absolut Verboten: nodding, sitting, standing, looking, shrugging and sipping.

For more exercises, see Giant Golden Buddha & 364 More Free Five Minute Writing Exercises.

I welcome your courteous comments which, should you feel so moved, you can email to me here.

From The Writer’s Carousel: Literary Travel Writing

Q & A with Solveig Eggerz on Sigga of Reykjavik

The Marfa Mondays Podcast is Back! No. 21: 
“Great Power in One: Miss Charles Emily Wilson”

Blast Past Easy: A Permutation Exercise with Clichés

This blog posts on Mondays. Second Mondays of the month I devote to my writing workshop students and anyone else interested in creative writing. Welcome!

> For the archive of workshop posts click here.

YE ARCHAEOLOGICAL FIND
Yes, this was on my bookshelf and yes, I actually used to consult it.

I have previously posted on my favorite exercises for a fast-acting manuscript Rx, what I call “emulation” or “permutation” exercises, here. (Which one is it, emulation or permutation? Depends. That would be another post.)

The basic idea is to take a phrase or perhaps as many as a few sentences from another writer’s work or from your own manuscript, and play with it in some predetermined way. Sometimes the exercise might prompt a new piece; othertimes it might give you just what you need to brighten up the blah or smooth a rough patch in a draft. Moreover, for my wampum, permutation exercises beat crossword puzzles by a Texas section. (Yowie, that was an orangutang’s tea party of imagery!)

Yes, I am being silly. To play, you have to be willing to be silly! Tell your ego to just take a long cool breath. You, dear writerly reader, do not have to use the results of your writing exercises in your manuscript, never mind show them to anyone else.

Simply, for any given permutation exercise, come up with a bunch of things! Maybe elegant, maybe dorky. Maybe even dorksterly dorkikins dorky. Then circle the one or two results that, for whatever reason, strike your fancy and/or seem apt for your purposes.

In my experience, and that of many of my writing students, doing these exercises is a tiny investment for a mega-payoff. The more often you do these little exercises, the easier they get, and this ease will greatly serve you in your endeavors to write, and in particular, to write more vividly. You will also get practice in generating material you are able to, la de da, discard. And discarding unworthy bits and pieces of a draft, and even whole novels, without attachment, that’s a vital skill for a writer, too.

“IT’S LIKE DEJA VU ALL OVER AGAIN”

There are as many permutation exercises as you can dream up. This one, what I call “Blast Past Easy,” plays with cliché.

How can you spot a cliché? If a phrase sounds familiar and/ or it came to you too easily, it’s probably a cliché.

What’s wrong with cliché? For more discerning readers, whom presumably you would want to have, cliché signals a lack of originality and/or naiveté and/or sloppiness. In sum: mediocrity. There are exceptions– for example, a fictional character or the subject of biography might use cliché (and if they do, that tells us something about them, does it not?) And some essayists use cliché for comic effect. (I’ll be posting about intentional diction drops anon.)

“Like deja vu all over again”– well, you can debate me, but I’m going to call that a cliché, except  as used by Yogi Berra, because he’s the one who came up with it.

Here are a few clichés I happened upon in recent weeks’ reading, and my permutations– four each. If you feel so moved, a good exercise could be to add more permutations of your own.

“Talk does not boil the rice”
Talk does not shampoo the pooch
Talk does not slice the pepperoni
Talk does not iron the shirts
Talk does not roast the turkey

(You might try a permutation of the noun, “talk,” e.g., art; violin playing; texting

“Shoveling smoke”
Shoveling soap bubbles
Shoveling Koolaid
Shoveling fog
Shoveling thunder
Shoveling granola
Shoveling marshmallows

“Bet you dollars for donuts”
Bet you deutschmarks for Dingdongs
Bet you dinars for dinos
Bet you dollars for diddlysquat
Bet you pounds for peanuts

(Part of what makes “dollars for donuts” such an appealing cliché is the alliteration, that is, the repeating “d”s of “dollars” and “donuts.” You might try varying the sound, e.g., silver for Skittles, or, pesos for pips, etc.)

“Let the cat out of the bag”
Let the cockroach out of the bag
Let the bedbug out of the backpack
Let the tarantula out of the pickle jar
Let the worm out of the compost pile

(Another permutation could be to switch the verb, e.g, Put the cat in the bag; stuff the cat in the bag; drown the cat in the bag; swing the cat in the bag, etc.)

“The bee’s knees”
The snail’s tail
The donkey’s ankle
The sloth’s toenail (doesn’t rhyme but, oh well, I like it)
The kitten’s mittens (is that a cliché?)

“A fish out of water”
A mole out of its hole
A horse out of its pasture
A sheep out of its herd
A troll out of his cave
A credit card nowhere near a department store

P.S. Visit my workshop page here. For more exercises, help yourself to “Giant Golden Buddha & 364 More Free Five Minute Writing Exercises.”

Today’s exercise:

“Barrel, Mirror, Telephone”
In three sentences or less describe the barrel. In three sentences or less describe the mirror. Where is the telephone? Describe what happens.

This Writer’s Distraction Free Smartphone (Plus an App Evaluation Flowchart to Tailor-Make Your Own)

From The Writer’s Carousel: Literary Travel Writing

Grokking Plot: The Elegant Example of Bread and Jam for Frances

Find out more about C.M. Mayo’s books, shorter works, podcasts, and more at www.cmmayo.com.