Write More Vivid Stories With This One Method

Crowd throwing coloured

Photo: John Thomas

Writing involves descriptions. You can’t just drop characters in a formless room and have them, say, swinging swords at each other without interacting with their environment.

That said, you can’t just wax lyrical about the surroundings and forget that you have a story to tell. Personally, I fall into the white-room category, often choosing to err on the side of too little description.

No matter what you choose, though, you should know that there’s a way to instantly spice up your writing, and that’s the use of concrete language. This concept is fairly new to me, and it’s changed the way I look at descriptions, so perhaps it could help you as well.

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This Is A Sucky Title But You’ll Still Click On It

Confused man looking at laptop

Photo: Bruce Mars

We’re always told to never judge a book by its cover, but we always do. We can’t help it. It’s how we survive. For instance, what goes on in your mind when a stranger approaches you in a dark alley?

First, you’d probably call yourself an idiot for wandering in dark alleys. Next, you’ll be sizing up this person to see if they’re a threat.

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WRITING PROMPT: A Birthday Wish

Birthday Cake.jpg

Prompt: You are in your twenties. You wake up to find yourself in your eight-year-old body. You are in the time and at the place you were when you were 8, but with all the memories and mannerisms of your twenty-something self.

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The smell of bacon roused Jess. It’s a smell that took her back to her eighth birthday; the most memorable one of her life. Dad had said that she’d become a big girl, and Jess had to agree.

She was certain that it was that exact day, because underneath the salty tang of the bacon was a hint of whiskey, a combination that’s involuntarily etched in her mind like a badly-drawn tattoo.

Barbie dolls and My Little Pony colouring books were strewn about her room, remnants of love from her late mother.

Wait, mom’s still alive, isn’t she? Am I dreaming?

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WRITING PROMPT: Eye For An I

drunk-person-on-bench

Prompt: You’ve accidentally killed the Devil. God makes you the new Devil to replace the one you killed.

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Amos had few regrets for taking to the bottle. He literally pissed my life away, but the haunting memories still remained. Sara and Janey. How I yearn for them. How old would Janey have been? How long has it been since I the accident?

Long enough, he concluded. He’d had enough of the cold, the hunger, the panhandling so that he could score another bottle to keep away the shakes. Tonight, he’d end it all—he was hopping back on the wagon. Going cold turkey. Committing suicide.

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NON FICTION: My First Tinder Date

Photo credit: Thomas Leuthard

Photo credit: Thomas Leuthard

I remember the days before I had a blog. Days where my friends were free to humiliate themselves in my presence without asking if I was going to write about them. Things have changed; today they treat me like a reporter waiting for his big scoop. They think I’m secretly documenting their every tic for a grand exposé, soon to be read by millions. Well joke’s on them, because first of all, nobody reads my blog.

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