A writing tip I live by

Giving writing advice is tricky business. Just like life advice, no writing rule is sacred or unbreakable. But, I still love hearing what other writers do to hone their craft and find their groove. At some point, a piece of advice may come back to help me at the right moment in a future project. With that mindset, I humbly offer one tip that has been working for me.

One of the curses of writing is that you spend countless hours creating a vibrant, detailed world full of complex, intriguing people, and in the end, you have to keep most of it to yourself. It's a cruel and unusual reality of creative work.

You know every inch of your protagonist's bedroom. You know the exact hairstyle they prefer, the way they take their eggs, every item in their wallet, and what song lyrics get stuck in their head when they're in a good mood. You know every crack and scrape of faded wallpaper in the haunted mansion you're writing about, and you know everyone who ever lived---or died---within those walls. You've built an elaborate world, full of intricate magic spells and a rich matriarchal lineage, and you want everyone to know the reason the castles have six turrets and the bricks are painted green every third year.

Everyone has a different tolerance for reading description. But, generally speaking, it's a good practice to avoid thick sections of description, no matter how beautifully written (and fascinating) it may be. The reason for that is twofold:

1) Too much description distracts the reader from the actual events of the story. You run the risk of losing their interest and muddling your intentions with the story.

2) Readers like to read because they want to imagine the world inside their own heads. If you do all the work for them, the possibilities diminish rapidly, and you may find that fewer people can see themselves in the world you've built.

But without description, your story loses some of its punch. So how do you decide what to leave in and what to carefully cut and paste into your document full of scraps that you secretly hope to revive somewhere else in the book?

Here's one of my favorite strategies for inserting meaningful description that doesn't take anything away from your overarching story: make the thing you're describing (a mansion, a spell, a sweater, a character's nose, whatever) part of the action.

For instance, while a character's clothing choices can say a lot about them, it's usually boring to read a blatant description of someone's outfit. When I want my readers to know what my character is wearing, I look for ways to insert the clothing into the scene in an emotional or action-driven way. For instance, your character might pick at the string hanging from the edge of the tattered throw pillow. In a moment of frustration, your character might stomp her three-inch heels down the marble hallway. If you want to show a cultural or magical ritual, can the character perform that ritual while having an intense conversation, learning vital information, or while overcoming a plot-related obstacle?

You should still be discerning and pick items to describe that really show something about a character, the world, or the theme you're writing about. Tell your readers the details your character notices because what they notice and interact with should be important---either showing the character's mood or pushing forward some piece of the plot.

I'm always surprised how much work one sentence can do to build context. The goal is to share singular, specific details that will make your world and characters vivid, while leaving space for the reader's imagination. As hard as it may be at first, we can all leave our paragraphs of description in our drafts.