A couple of popular artists, Julian Beever and Kurt Wenner, made their global mark by creating three dimensional pictures on sidewalks.  Despite our intelligence knowing it is only a two dimensional slab of concrete, our eyes convince us it is three dimensional.  Okay, I get it now. Writing 101, have to use the five senses for a three dimensional scene.

“Get in her head, dammit.”  How many times have I had that drilled into me by a trusted CP.  Easier said than done.  I originally thought it a pain in the butt.  Just tell the story.  That’s what’s it’s all about isn’t it?  Oops, used the “T” word. Tell.

Early literature blossomed with well balanced prose and structure that sang.  Every once in a while, a few authors actually told a good story at the same time.  I fell asleep during most of it, and kind of wished I hadn’t now.  Like most guys growing up, I went for sci-fi, fantasy, thrillers … you know … had to have death, dismemberment before you got the girl.  Did the girl have assets appropriately sized for the uniform?  Important stuff.

Where do we start? See John run.  Spot looked at John.  Jane likes John.    Pretty one dimensional, but hey, it was a primer and you got a carton of milk when done.

I watched John sprint past me.  Spot chased John and almost ran into him.  Jane wanted to hold John’s hand.  Two dimensional … typical of my first drafts.  Brain only allows so many milliseconds of story flow before it gets tangled in misfiring synaptic static.  Good for short word count.

Probably one of the more time sucking aspects in writing for me, is getting caught up taking two dimensional action and making it more three.  Did I say it right? Does it make sense?  Did I overstate it?  Have I said it before?  Geez, it’s giving me a headache.  What happened to the story?

His lungs on fire, John sprinted around the corner and nearly face-planted on the sidewalk, his sagging board shorts draped around his knees. Jane’s ears pinked from the scratch of John’s calloused palm.  She’d waited a long time for this moment, though she wished he’d hike his board shorts to cover the Calvin Kline label of his jockey shorts.  Spot un-tucked his head to gawp at the passing bipeds, his nose filled with a scent more alluring than the nether regions of his crotch.

Maybe a little over the top, but you got to admit, it’s sort of fun. So let’s have a little fun.  See John run.   Spot looked at John.  Jane likes John.  Do what Julian and Kurt do with two dimensional sidewalks.  Be a Missourian today.  Show me.

Happy Leap Day.

23 Responses

1. Elizabeth Kelley says:

   February 29, 2012 at 7:40 am

   Thanks for the great pictures, DT. Very inspiring.

   When I first started writing I would tell, then show. After some practice, I would tell or show. Now I working on just get to the show part. This writing journey isn’t easy, but somehow I manage to work at it, work at it hard everyday. There something that is addicting about it.

   I’m just hoping, someday, all the words will click together in the perfect place to create a piece of work that is awesome. Until then I’m despisi….loving this journey.

   Reply
   • DT Tarkus says:

     February 29, 2012 at 9:08 am

     Know your pain, Elizabeth. I too, typically get the story out first, then circle back to fine tune the scene. My problem of late has been getting wrapped up trying to overwork it the first time and losing the flow and efficiency. Sometimes, I just have to walk away for awhile and reclaim the groove.

     Reply
   • Robin Kaye says:

     February 29, 2012 at 10:13 am

     Elizabeth – I was talking to my sister the other day. A few years ago, she had two knees replaced and came to stay with me for about a month after each surgery. She told me she’d always thought she wanted to write a book until she watched me do it. She said it was too damn much work. And it is. I figure if you have a choice whether to write or not, you’re better off not. For those of us with no choice, those of us who are writers at heart–we have a love/hate relationship with the work. But my dear, when it works well, there’s nothing better. Keep at it, you’ll get there, you’re too stubborn to give in and you are a real writer, you don’t have much of a choice so you might as well not fight it.

     Reply
2. Marlo Berliner says:

   February 29, 2012 at 7:55 am

   This is probably rubbish and I’m not sure I used all five senses, but give me a break. I haven’t finished my coffee yet
   John darted toward Jane, legs pumping. Boots pounded the pavement close behind him.
   Whoa!
   Out of nowhere, a spotted dog waddled into his path, nearly upending him. Leaping to his left, he snatched Jane’s hand, dragging her along. He struggled to take half a breath. “It’s now or never, doll.” His eyes flicked to her half-buttoned blouse. “Make up your mind.”
   Her face went a deep crimson, as she gripped his sweaty hand tighter. “Eloping sounds fine,” she panted.
   John glanced over his shoulder. “Great, because your father’s gaining on us.”

   Reply
   • r r smythe says:

     February 29, 2012 at 8:19 am

     LOL fantastic marlo. Lovely pics dan…and…my brains are fried from edits, and I’ve had to give up caffeine, so I can’t show or tell. It’s literary electro-convulsive-shock-therapy…so….heres all i have.

     The smell. The muser’s wrinkled their collective noses at the scent of burning gray matter; a repulsive mix of sulfur and exhaustion. They knew it was rr, and shrugged. “Eh, she’ll rally.”

     Reply
     • DT Tarkus says:

       February 29, 2012 at 9:21 am

       Okay R, I’m outing you as the one who taught me to “get in the head”. You are the master of visual and a privilege to be your padawan. Back at ya.

       The air reeked of ozone from hours of synaptic static, frizzing R’s auburn hair with troll-like streaks of white. Words blurred on the page. A scream tore at the tissues of her throat. “It’s alive …alive.”

       Gave up coffee???? What the …? I just finished my third.
   • DT Tarkus says:

     February 29, 2012 at 9:13 am

     Great stuff Marlo. Love the hint of “shot gun dad” chasing them.

     Here’s a question for the team. Is it necessary to use all five senses at once, or is it okay to see in one scene, feel in another, smell in yet another?

     Reply
     • r r smythe says:

       February 29, 2012 at 12:11 pm

       Ur killin me…which is the norm. And yes, i do travel with a permanent ozone cloud, so good of you to notice.
3. Grace Burrowes says:

   February 29, 2012 at 8:46 am

   I am not going to try to top Marlo’s spectacular effort–I’m due in court shortly, and my genius is seldom evident in my first three drafts. Some of us hit it out of the park on the first at bat, others (moi) need to put seventeen coats of varnish on each scene.

   I find though, if I can think of one scent to associate with the scene, then I’m more likely to participate in it rather than just observe. For example:
   The scent of fresh cut grass started the ominous tickling in John’s lungs that would soon turn into a wheeze.
   Or, the scent of Jane’s lily of the valley perfume slammed into his brain one nanosecond before he would have flattened her to the sidewalk…

   The tactile senses works the same way, at least for me. Probably has to do with waking up the old brain, which can’t tell the difference between memory, fantasy, and reality.

   Reply
   • DT Tarkus says:

     February 29, 2012 at 9:29 am

     Ah Grace, I spend so much time in the redraft paint store, I’ve become a confused, walking Sherwin-Williams. Too often I want to splash a coat of Navaho white and call it done (that’s an actual color BTW and currently the neutral shade of choice by Real Estate agents trying to sell a house). Then I remember iconic authors like Barbara Kingsolver, who writes with a Michelangelo pen. If only …

     Reply
4. Gail Nichols says:

   February 29, 2012 at 8:48 am

   Those are beauriful pictures. I never had that kind of talent but,my daughter loves to draw like that. I still wonder where that talent came from.I know it is a gift from God but I wonder where the talent was in our family.

   Reply
   • DT Tarkus says:

     February 29, 2012 at 9:49 am

     Perhaps talent is akin to it being ten percent inspiration, ninety percent perspiration. Yes Gail, I have to believe creative thinking is an inherent spark within, but a spark is not a fire itself. I think I just made that up. Never ceases to amaze me the artists who put hours, days, weeks or months into a project, only to see it sold on the street for a few bucks. It must be a primordial need to rub two sticks together on a rainy day to nurture that fragile spark to a warming blaze, even if it risks burning the skin of cupped palms to keep it from extinguishing. Got to have passion.

     Reply
5. Sharon Wray says:

   February 29, 2012 at 9:45 am

   I can’t even begin to compete with Marlo’s example, but I can feel your pain. That’s why I end up writing over ten drafts of every manuscript. Each revision I end up focusing on one character or one sense, trying to fill in all the holes and make a complete picture. But is sure is time-consuming, not to mention hard.
   I’d love to see one of those sidewalk paintings in real life one day. They are amazing.

   Reply
   • DT Tarkus says:

     February 29, 2012 at 10:00 am

     To conceptualize those sidewalk paintings is indeed amazing, Sharon. It’s a talent rivaling MC Escher. Physical talent in the form of art, music, or building things, has never been a talent I possessed. I have a contractor relative who builds architecturally stunning homes. His ability to translate a one dimensional line drawing to breathtaking three dimensional structures is nothing short of inherent genius. I have trouble building a birdhouse.

     Reply
6. Robin Kaye says:

   February 29, 2012 at 10:12 am

   I write one draft, but then I go over each scene at least ten times layering. I write dialogue and action in one pass and any internal dialogue that pops in my mind, then I go in and work on setting, senses, movement, visceral reaction and the last thing I do is add a few rhetorical devices to punch up the parts that need to make an impact. Still, for me, doing it scene by scene makes it a whole lot less overwhelming. I can’t having to revise a whole book! My head would explode.

   Reply
   • DT Tarkus says:

     February 29, 2012 at 11:11 am

     Good point, Robin. I read the last chapter/scene to get in the groove. This is where I tend to alter the scene. Still, I find myself going through the entire MS in the end, reading aloud to myself in hopes no one hears me. Maybe that’s why I get migraines.

     Reply
7. Claranne Perkins says:

   February 29, 2012 at 11:05 am

   Thanks for the pictures and exercise which others have done far better than I could off the top of my head. I’m more like Robin. I get the dialog and other things down in my “first draft” then go back and layer in other thigs lke senses, descriptions and emotions. It takes foreer, but that seems to be my process.

   Reply
   • DT Tarkus says:

     February 29, 2012 at 11:20 am

     Time, it’s not just for breakfast (or lunch, dinner, midnight snack). If I was to point to one aspect that enhances my “visual impairment”, Claranne, it’s time, or lack thereof. The efficiency monster in me wants to utilize the allocated time in the story. I track new words, not “redone” words in my goal setting. A tip of the ole fedora to writers with day jobs, who must squeeze the process between the limited spaces of working and/or raising a family. Too bad we can’t write in our sleep. Some really neat stuff rumbling around sedate moments when the brain goes safely insane.

     Reply
8. Robin Kaye says:

   February 29, 2012 at 11:53 am

   LOL Dan – My critique partners and I meet at Starbucks and read everything aloud. Always interesting during a sex scene–we look around and make sure there aren’t any kids within hearing distance and give everyone else good stuff to listen to!

   Reply
   • DT Tarkus says:

     February 29, 2012 at 1:22 pm

     Now it’s my turn to LOL. I read Livia’s new erotic ebook, Fire in My Blood, on a full plane where the neighbors are up close and personal. I don’t blush easily, but that one had my ears on fire and thankful it wasn’t an audio book.

     Reply
9. Livia Quinn says:

   February 29, 2012 at 12:02 pm

   OMG, Robin. I can just picture that.

   Marlo, you rock!

   Dan, You’re right about the sleep mode. I get some of my best scenes and ideas at 4am and I swear the second my throw the covers back and air hits my skin, it’s gone. When I try to write on my bedside table it’s unreadable. If I get up and go to the computer, the dog bugs me to go out and then it’s gone. Lots of challenges to writing, lol.

   Reply
   • DT Tarkus says:

     February 29, 2012 at 1:31 pm

     I have an ability Liv, to recall with detail some of the insane dreams I get, depending on how much adult beverage I’ve imbibed. Some of my best ones are when I’ve been teetotaling (which isn’t often).

     BTW, I downloaded FIMB on my DW’s IPAD. She hasn’t seen it there yet and I’m wondering if it will hinder or help. How much you want to bet what the answer will be if I put it to a vote with fellow musers?

     Reply
10. Hope Ramsay says:

    February 29, 2012 at 4:38 pm

    John loped down the embankment, his boots kicking up pebbles that pinged against the tin roof of the Spot’s doghouse. The dog was there, staring up at him, growling, saliva running from his mouth. He looked pretty hungry. How the hell was he going to get those rubies for Jane without losing a leg or some other part of his anatomy. He was quite attached to his body parts. He sighed. Really, he needed to give up this fascination with Jane’s boobs. They were getting him into more trouble than it was worth.

    Fun exercise, DT.

    Reply

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