The Importance of Details in Narrative Writing

In, “The dog ran in the rain,” “dog” is the subject and “ran” is the verb. Other than a brief comment about the weather, understood to be the most fascinating subject of conversation, that is all we know. Perhaps, that is all we need to know.

Humor me for a moment, and let’s try to begin this story in another way, setting a new scene.

“Ruthie, the golden retriever, trotted clumsily through a light drizzle, reveling in nature’s new and exciting smells.”

In this narrative, the oh-so-exciting rain has turned into something magical, partly because we are seeing it through the eyes of a golden retriever. Maybe she’s on a walk and pulling her leash in all different directions. Maybe she’s never been out in the rain before.

We get a picture in our minds from the addition of the word, “trot,” that she’s most likely happy and doesn’t mind the mud getting on her paw pads.

Now, we have a wealth of information, and it all started by naming our simple dog running in the rain Ruthie.

A favorite tool by Roy Peter Clark in Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies for Every Writer, “Get the Name of the Dog” describes an ideal relationship between a writer and their character, world, and scene and the way that relationship is shown in writing.

This is, in short, the way that writers convince their audience to care about what they have to say. They identify specific, seemingly innocuous elements of their narrative and devote a little time to them, making them real even though they might not have direct bearing on the plot.

In The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida, Shehan Karunatilaka builds out the life and death of his photojournalist turned investigator:

“You met Jaki five years ago in the Casino at Hotel Leo. She was twenty, just out of school, and losing pathetically at baccarat. You were back from a torrid tour of the Vanni, unhinged by the slaughter, breaking bread with shady people, seeing the bad wherever you looked, and wearing your notorious red bandanna. You had sold the photos to Jonny at the Associated Press and cashed a welcome six-figure cheque. Even in Lankan rupees, six figures are better than five.”

Jaki is important, not because she was playing baccarat, but because she was “losing pathetically,” and to lose, but to still play, is human.

Maali (in this case, “you”), we have come to learn, gets his story and the pictures to prove them regardless of the risk. He is clearly affected by what he sees when he's on-site as a photographer, but to get the pictures is his mission.

His red bandanna makes him vulnerable to the outside world, particularly those who seek to suppress what he exposes. He’s recognizing vulnerability in Jaki, speaking of her as a contrast to “seeing the bad wherever you looked.” As readers, we build out the story of Maali’s relationship to Jaki, but not in the way that’s expected.

Maali’s photography is his mission and his livelihood, and even though “Jonny at the Associated Press” does not have bearing on Jaki or solving the murder, we’ve built out the world a little more by giving Maali a connection to someone he knows at a widely recognized publication.

In one paragraph, Karunatilaka has accomplished so much by adding so little. It doesn’t feel forced. It helps us to identify, understand, and form a connection to the written world and people.

It all started by putting a name to even the simplest of our experiences.

Exercises

1.)   Take a scene that you’ve written from your own work. A paragraph will do. Consider both mood and senses (sight, sound, smell, taste, touch). In what way have you developed the scene, and what mood did you intend to set? How, specifically, have you conveyed that intention? Rewrite the scene with the words, “identify” and “describe” in mind. If there is a person you haven’t yet named, if appropriate, name them. Include details like coiled paper in vases on a mantlepiece, the smell and sound of the fire in the fireplace, a character’s expression after they've been told a piece of news, even if the news wasn't for them. 

2.)   Try to describe the room that you’re in right now. How are you going to help your readers to understand exactly what you are seeing in the same way you’re seeing it? Use your five senses and language that conveys the atmosphere. Are you in a slightly disorganized family-owned bakery with a shiny blue plate and textured white mug next to your computer? Are you trying to pretend you aren’t eavesdropping on the people next to you on the bus? Describe as much as you can, and don't leave out the little details.