Better Description in Writing Fiction
I can't remember if I've yet jabbered about writing description, but this is inspired by an old conversation with![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
marag. Description in fanfic (or media tie-ins) is an odd thing, since fanfic is often (if not always) a narrative medium based on a visual one ... which means that readers likely come to the story already having some concept of what the characters/places look like.
This is both good and bad. Like writing a screenplay for a weekly episode of a TV show, one does not have to approach each story as if one is setting the world and characters from the get-go. It's not a "pilot" episode. Don't tell us each character's full name, title and history in the first line; it's silly (and not advisable even if it is original fiction, for that matter). One important aspect of writing is determining one's audience. In fanfic, we can safely assume that our audience comes in with a certain amount of information. If I'm writing about Cyclops, it's a good bet that any X-fan knows the first X-man. But if I'm writing about Mirage (Dani Moonstar), it's not as good a bet, so I must present her in a different way. Nonetheless, I don't need to explain mutants, or the X-Men, or other details. Thus, I tailor a story to my probable audience. More prominent characters require less explanation. This is true regardless of fandom.
If one is writing a crossover, or posting to a multi-fandom list, then more description is in order since the projected audience is more diverse, but it should be done elegantly. Blunt information dump isn't engaging. But by in large, fanfic is a different animal from original fiction, in which the reader knows nothing and the writer canNOT assume any prior knowledge. In fanfic, a writer not only can, but should assume a certain amount.
The question is, How much to assume?
And the answer to that varies considerably, depending on everything from the projected audience to the genre of the story. But generally speaking, description and worldbuilding are one area in which fanfic isn't particularly helpful preparation for writing original fiction. It can even be detrimental because it teaches a writer to assume too much. I realize that's not going to be a popular comment in some circles, but I stand by it. When it comes to description, beginning writer errors tend to fall into one of two (predictable) camps ... overtell or undertell. And undertell is what fanfic authors can be guilty of, if they're not careful.
It doesn't help that, even in original fiction, the amount of description that's considered adequate and desirable varies from author to author, reader to reader, and even genre to genre. Genres (and sub-genres) have conventions; one must learn to write to those conventions, as that's part of learning to write to one's audience. And among the conventions to learn is the amount and type of description the genre demands. For instance, and taking two genres with which I'm fairly familiar, the level of description in mainstream and fantasy is both fairly high. The TYPE of description, however, is rather different. Let me give two examples:
"Under a crab-apple tree, we find a line of stones, laid flat in the ground -- no ostentatious markers, just a name and two dates -- the sisters and their husbands. With borrowed buckets and a roll of paper towels purchased at a corner store, we set to work, pulling out weeds, washing the dirt out of the lettering. When we get to her mother's name, my own mother leans over, letting the water pour over the stone again and again. The sun catches in the water as it washes over the marble, and my mother leans over, her face tender and open. She caresses the grass, rubbing it down. I used to rub her back, she tells me. The knots were like rocks. Sparrows in the trees around us fall silent as a cloud passes overhead. I pull a dandelion out of the ground and ask her what I have always wanted to know. How did she die, my grandmother -- too young, long before I was born? Officially, she had a heart attack. My mother looks at me. But her heart had already been broken. She died of a broken heart.
From And the Priest Fainted, by Catherine Temma Davidson.
They were all penned in the archbishop's hall: a fine catch of notables in every stage of dress and undress. One young lord was as naked as he was born, and loudly furious. A lissome figure clung to him, darting glances through a veil of hair. If she was frightened, she had it well in hand, and her lover with it, and the cloak which slipped just far enough to bare a white curve of shoulder. Richer would remember that afterwards: the bold brown eyes, the soft white skin amid the bobbing tonsures."
From ARS Magica, by Judith Tarr
What do these passages have in common? Both tell the reader something about the characters via actions. They are NOT expository lumps. They do not inform the reader directly of what either the mother or the mistress is thinking, quite. That is, the author doesn't step in to explain it like a psychology textbook, though Judy's approach is more direct. But this, friends, is what "show, don't tell" means.
Yet where the two passages differ (writing style aside) is in the description type. Judy's passage is more simply descriptive. She's telling the reader what is going on, and setting the stage with some memorable imagery, like the last line of the dark eyes and pale skin at the center of the "bobbing tonsures." She sketches, quickly, the scene and gives enough for the reader to see it. She doesn't give too much. She doesn't tell you about the tapestries on the wall, or the nature of the stonework, or what's lying on the floor ... etc. Why? Those things aren't important to the scene and would derail the pacing. Throughout the book, she gives the reader enough description to build the world of medieval Europe. She's extremely good at this; it's one of her main talents as an author of historical fiction and fantasy -- to accurately sketch historical worlds for modern readers. She's "author as tour guide."
Catherine's description serves a very different purpose. She sets the scene with several vivid images, but the description has more levels. She chooses what to tell for its symbolic value. To some degree, she is also a "tour guide," since it's about an American Greek visiting Greece, and her readers are, for the most part, not going to be familiar with that setting. Nonetheless, her primary use of description is not world building but symbology.
Judy sets a stage. Catherine sets a tone/mood. Both use description as the vehicle. I chose these two because, in some ways, they each exemplify the conventions of their genre. Other writers mix and blend to a greater degree. An Elizabeth Hand fantasy novel feels a lot more like literary mainstream due to her stylist choices. She's a genre straddler by choice. I happen to adore her fiction, probably because she combines my favorite genres. By I've spoken to fans of fantasy who find Hand too "thick" to read. And I've talked to fans of lit-mainstream who dislike the fantasy elements. That's the downside to straddling genres -- you don't fully hit the conventions of either, and can lose readers as a result. Personally, I think such novels are more fruitful than problematic, but then, I admire writers who push the envelope of expectations. I don't mind thinking a little, working a little, when I read. Some readers don't want that. They read for other reasons than I do.
But back to description. Where a writer falls in the descriptive heap has as much to do with personal preferences (and writing strengths) as with genre conventions. Even lit-mainstream has a variety of conventions within the larger genre, and figuring out where one falls is important -- a part of finding one’s own voice. We can’t (and shouldn’t) try to write in a style that’s unnatural.
But writing description is one of those things that many writers struggle with, and not only fanfic authors. One of the best things I ever did for my narrative writing was to take a course on poetry. It forced me to be aware of words in a very different way, and to compact meaning. (And it's probably no accident that to this day, my descriptions often have both a literal and symbolic level; not always, but not uncommonly.)
In any case, I thought I'd share some observations I've had about writing various types of description. Note that these observations are colored heavily by the genre conventions of lit-mainstream, but that comes with my territory.
1) Description of Place. Stage dressing. Where does the action occur?
Here, I think writers must guard against two things -- telling too much (and deflating the pacing of the story thereby), or not telling enough, and thus having characters walk around in a Big Gray Void. Finding that balance can be tricky, and simply takes practice, but here are a couple of rules of thumb that work for me.
A. Don't try to describe everything in a room. We don't need to know. :-) Select items, either prominent or distinctive or symbolically useful. As one walks into a room, what draws the eye?
B. Don't neglect senses other than sight. The smell of a room is important, the sound, the sensation of touch -- does something look smooth or rough? Etc.
C. Specificity -- finding the right noun. This can actually take a little effort sometimes, but I personally find it fun. There are books out there that give the proper terms for common objects (and not so common). Hint: children's reference books are often extremely useful for writers because they show pictures and give "basic" information that sometimes isn't so basic! Thus, one can say "wainscoting" instead of "paneling halfway up the wall." A good thesaurus can help here, too. Look up "chair" or "seat" and note how many different kinds there are. Is it a wing chair, a reclining chair, an overstuffed armchair....? Little things like this add a lot to a passage. Color is good, too, although a "red chair" is more conventional (and less interesting) than "an overstuffed, red velour armchair." Don't go overboard. If that chair is sitting off in the corner, it may not need to be described at all, but if the main character is about to collapse into it, exhausted, then a potted description is in order.
D. Related to specificity -- finding the right word period. It's far more interesting to say "The microwave stand abutted the pantry so that the door constantly knocked into it." Not, "The microwave stand was right next to the pantry .... The other advantage of this is that it often cuts down on needless wordiness. The above subs one word for four. This will also help cut down on needless adjectives and adverbs. Prose is better with more specific verbs and nouns, and fewer adjectives and adverbs.
D. Last, not every room or place needs to be described every time -- especially not if doing so would interfere with the pacing of the story. Pacing isn't something that's easy to explain; it has to be felt. The amount of description needed will also (logically) lessen as a novel progresses, since places don't need to be described and re-described. E.g., if I describe a drawing room once, I won't do so again and again, although I may make mention of certain objects in it, at need.
2) Description of Character. How to help readers see characters.
Please, please show some creativity here. It can be very easy to get stuck in the "obvious" -- hair color, eye color, height, weight, even skin color.
Instead, think about a character's most distinctive features ... which may be none of the above. For instance, does your character have a notably deep space between nose and upper lip? Earlobes or no earlobes? Sharp jaw or soft jaw? Deep-set eyes or slightly protruding? Also, not everyone is attractive ... or should be. And not every character will have unusual coloring, either. It's perfectly okay to give a character brown hair, or dirty blond. (Although I think Marvel is allergic to the notion of a woman with normal haircolor.)
Description of characters, like place, may include non-visual sensory input. If a character hasn't showered in a while, that's notable! So, incidently, is "halitosis" (not a description I see much in fanfic ... but people DO have bad breath in RL). The sound of a voice in terms that go beyond high or low. Is a voice gravely or bell-pure? Last, beware of extended description of a wardrobe. I really don't give a damn what Character X is wearing unless it's particular and unique and lends itself to characterization. This is, admittedly, somewhat a matter of genre convention, but please don't go off on repeated, extended description of attire. It's boring to many readers. (There. Brutal but honest.)
Overdoing description can be a problem, particularly when it's the description of a known actor. I remember noticing this a lot in X-Files, but I've seen it in X-Men, too ... exaggerating character description. Now, (Scully) Gillian Anderson's eyes are not that startling a blue -- a pretty light grey -- but I can remember authors inventing all manner of exaggerations for them. By contrast, (Cyclops) Jimmy Marsden's eyes are a shocking shade of flat blue. But Marsden's hair is a kind of unexciting brown. Which is FINE. Let it be "plain brown." By contrast, (Magneto) Ian McKellen has quite striking silver hair (not least because he still has it!). If someone's coloring really is exceptional in some way, then it's worth noting, but otherwise ... don't overstress it.
3) Descriptions of action. Make sure it's physically possible ... and the dots connect.
I do think that some rigorous plotting is often in order, and even a little play-acting. Is the scene physiologically possible? Find a friend and run through it in slo-mo. This simple trick sometimes helps clarify (or even eliminate) scenes that require the contortions of a gymnast. Also, if the action is intense, making a flow-chart isn't a bad idea, especially if one is new to writing action, as it can help an author avoid accidentally leap-frogging over events and confusing a reader. Don't jump from A to D, remember B and C along the way.
4) Expository lumps. The dreaded information dump.
Almost any extended narrative, particularly of novella and novel length, will necessitate occasional use of exposition, and exposition is tricky. In my own experience, exposition is among the hardest narrative techniques, and my very best advice is simply to read authors who handle exposition well, to get a feeling for how they do it.
The key is to keep it rolling. When exposition bogs down or becomes too dense, it's sludge to slog through. Some simple tricks that can help include:
A. The use of alliteration ... that is, words that begin with the same sound. It's a trick snatched from poetry, but it works. (Just beware of overdoing it, or it starts sounding silly.)
B. Varying sentence structure. Again, a very simple trick that authors should be working on in any case, but it becomes especially important in extended blocks of narration.
C. The use of startling juxtaposition: "He watched the sway of her hair, unbound, rippling like their choices." What follows "like" isn't the simile one expects. How can choices "ripple"? But of course they do in the world of metaphor. Yet as with alliteration, this is a trick not to take too far. The startling juxtaposition won't work if it becomes too strained.
D. The use of whimsy. Things that are just mildly humorous flow more easily.
E. Including commentary and observation, not merely the relaying of facts. "Workhorse" descriptions are boring. They may give the information, but they're deadly dull to read. Throw in a little observation, though, particularly if it's insightful or whimsical, and it adds flare.
In addition, one can employ many of the tricks listed under place description ... notably particularity of language. But like writing good dialogue, ultimately, good exposition comes from a combination of ear for language, perception about people, and plain practice.
5) Words that fall off the page.
Most authors have a couple of these. They're words an author loves too much ... and overuses, often without realizing it. Be aware they happen and watch for them. Some are more obvious than others. A good friend of mine and a professional author (who shall remain nameless) has -- or at least had -- a special fondness for "kindled." Eyes "kindled." Passion "kindled." Temper "kindled." It got old fast. :-)
6) Sex.
Oh me, oh my, sex is SO easy to write badly. Of course, 'bad' is somewhat in the eye of the beholder -- one reader's turn OFF is another's turn on. It's also a matter of what one's goal is. The point of a sex scene may not be to arouse the reader ... it may be exactly the opposite. Or sex may be one means to character description or development. Nonetheless, sex is like any other form of description ... seek creative descriptions and avoid cliches. What does ___ really feel like? That will require a certain amount of honesty on the part of the writer, and not every writer is comfortable with that. Also, because the point of sex in fiction may be primarily to turn on readers, some writers will resort to "trigger words," whatever their own may be. (We don't all respond to the same words, of course.) But trigger words can be cliches, and should be guarded against.
------------
I'm sure I've forgotten something, but those are rules of thumb I use myself, and also that I share in workshops on writing. Description in particular is something that I think writers improve as they mature. A writer may handle good dialogue, or good characterization, or good action ... but does she or he handle good description?
I can't remember if I've yet jabbered about writing description, but this is inspired by an old conversation with
marag. Description in fanfic (or media tie-ins) is an odd thing, since fanfic is often (if not always) a narrative medium based on a visual one ... which means that readers likely come to the story already having some concept of what the characters/places look like.This is both good and bad. Like writing a screenplay for a weekly episode of a TV show, one does not have to approach each story as if one is setting the world and characters from the get-go. It's not a "pilot" episode. Don't tell us each character's full name, title and history in the first line; it's silly (and not advisable even if it is original fiction, for that matter). One important aspect of writing is determining one's audience. In fanfic, we can safely assume that our audience comes in with a certain amount of information. If I'm writing about Cyclops, it's a good bet that any X-fan knows the first X-man. But if I'm writing about Mirage (Dani Moonstar), it's not as good a bet, so I must present her in a different way. Nonetheless, I don't need to explain mutants, or the X-Men, or other details. Thus, I tailor a story to my probable audience. More prominent characters require less explanation. This is true regardless of fandom.
If one is writing a crossover, or posting to a multi-fandom list, then more description is in order since the projected audience is more diverse, but it should be done elegantly. Blunt information dump isn't engaging. But by in large, fanfic is a different animal from original fiction, in which the reader knows nothing and the writer canNOT assume any prior knowledge. In fanfic, a writer not only can, but should assume a certain amount.
The question is, How much to assume?
And the answer to that varies considerably, depending on everything from the projected audience to the genre of the story. But generally speaking, description and worldbuilding are one area in which fanfic isn't particularly helpful preparation for writing original fiction. It can even be detrimental because it teaches a writer to assume too much. I realize that's not going to be a popular comment in some circles, but I stand by it. When it comes to description, beginning writer errors tend to fall into one of two (predictable) camps ... overtell or undertell. And undertell is what fanfic authors can be guilty of, if they're not careful.
It doesn't help that, even in original fiction, the amount of description that's considered adequate and desirable varies from author to author, reader to reader, and even genre to genre. Genres (and sub-genres) have conventions; one must learn to write to those conventions, as that's part of learning to write to one's audience. And among the conventions to learn is the amount and type of description the genre demands. For instance, and taking two genres with which I'm fairly familiar, the level of description in mainstream and fantasy is both fairly high. The TYPE of description, however, is rather different. Let me give two examples:
"Under a crab-apple tree, we find a line of stones, laid flat in the ground -- no ostentatious markers, just a name and two dates -- the sisters and their husbands. With borrowed buckets and a roll of paper towels purchased at a corner store, we set to work, pulling out weeds, washing the dirt out of the lettering. When we get to her mother's name, my own mother leans over, letting the water pour over the stone again and again. The sun catches in the water as it washes over the marble, and my mother leans over, her face tender and open. She caresses the grass, rubbing it down. I used to rub her back, she tells me. The knots were like rocks. Sparrows in the trees around us fall silent as a cloud passes overhead. I pull a dandelion out of the ground and ask her what I have always wanted to know. How did she die, my grandmother -- too young, long before I was born? Officially, she had a heart attack. My mother looks at me. But her heart had already been broken. She died of a broken heart.
From And the Priest Fainted, by Catherine Temma Davidson.
They were all penned in the archbishop's hall: a fine catch of notables in every stage of dress and undress. One young lord was as naked as he was born, and loudly furious. A lissome figure clung to him, darting glances through a veil of hair. If she was frightened, she had it well in hand, and her lover with it, and the cloak which slipped just far enough to bare a white curve of shoulder. Richer would remember that afterwards: the bold brown eyes, the soft white skin amid the bobbing tonsures."
From ARS Magica, by Judith Tarr
What do these passages have in common? Both tell the reader something about the characters via actions. They are NOT expository lumps. They do not inform the reader directly of what either the mother or the mistress is thinking, quite. That is, the author doesn't step in to explain it like a psychology textbook, though Judy's approach is more direct. But this, friends, is what "show, don't tell" means.
Yet where the two passages differ (writing style aside) is in the description type. Judy's passage is more simply descriptive. She's telling the reader what is going on, and setting the stage with some memorable imagery, like the last line of the dark eyes and pale skin at the center of the "bobbing tonsures." She sketches, quickly, the scene and gives enough for the reader to see it. She doesn't give too much. She doesn't tell you about the tapestries on the wall, or the nature of the stonework, or what's lying on the floor ... etc. Why? Those things aren't important to the scene and would derail the pacing. Throughout the book, she gives the reader enough description to build the world of medieval Europe. She's extremely good at this; it's one of her main talents as an author of historical fiction and fantasy -- to accurately sketch historical worlds for modern readers. She's "author as tour guide."
Catherine's description serves a very different purpose. She sets the scene with several vivid images, but the description has more levels. She chooses what to tell for its symbolic value. To some degree, she is also a "tour guide," since it's about an American Greek visiting Greece, and her readers are, for the most part, not going to be familiar with that setting. Nonetheless, her primary use of description is not world building but symbology.
Judy sets a stage. Catherine sets a tone/mood. Both use description as the vehicle. I chose these two because, in some ways, they each exemplify the conventions of their genre. Other writers mix and blend to a greater degree. An Elizabeth Hand fantasy novel feels a lot more like literary mainstream due to her stylist choices. She's a genre straddler by choice. I happen to adore her fiction, probably because she combines my favorite genres. By I've spoken to fans of fantasy who find Hand too "thick" to read. And I've talked to fans of lit-mainstream who dislike the fantasy elements. That's the downside to straddling genres -- you don't fully hit the conventions of either, and can lose readers as a result. Personally, I think such novels are more fruitful than problematic, but then, I admire writers who push the envelope of expectations. I don't mind thinking a little, working a little, when I read. Some readers don't want that. They read for other reasons than I do.
But back to description. Where a writer falls in the descriptive heap has as much to do with personal preferences (and writing strengths) as with genre conventions. Even lit-mainstream has a variety of conventions within the larger genre, and figuring out where one falls is important -- a part of finding one’s own voice. We can’t (and shouldn’t) try to write in a style that’s unnatural.
But writing description is one of those things that many writers struggle with, and not only fanfic authors. One of the best things I ever did for my narrative writing was to take a course on poetry. It forced me to be aware of words in a very different way, and to compact meaning. (And it's probably no accident that to this day, my descriptions often have both a literal and symbolic level; not always, but not uncommonly.)
In any case, I thought I'd share some observations I've had about writing various types of description. Note that these observations are colored heavily by the genre conventions of lit-mainstream, but that comes with my territory.
1) Description of Place. Stage dressing. Where does the action occur?
Here, I think writers must guard against two things -- telling too much (and deflating the pacing of the story thereby), or not telling enough, and thus having characters walk around in a Big Gray Void. Finding that balance can be tricky, and simply takes practice, but here are a couple of rules of thumb that work for me.
A. Don't try to describe everything in a room. We don't need to know. :-) Select items, either prominent or distinctive or symbolically useful. As one walks into a room, what draws the eye?
B. Don't neglect senses other than sight. The smell of a room is important, the sound, the sensation of touch -- does something look smooth or rough? Etc.
C. Specificity -- finding the right noun. This can actually take a little effort sometimes, but I personally find it fun. There are books out there that give the proper terms for common objects (and not so common). Hint: children's reference books are often extremely useful for writers because they show pictures and give "basic" information that sometimes isn't so basic! Thus, one can say "wainscoting" instead of "paneling halfway up the wall." A good thesaurus can help here, too. Look up "chair" or "seat" and note how many different kinds there are. Is it a wing chair, a reclining chair, an overstuffed armchair....? Little things like this add a lot to a passage. Color is good, too, although a "red chair" is more conventional (and less interesting) than "an overstuffed, red velour armchair." Don't go overboard. If that chair is sitting off in the corner, it may not need to be described at all, but if the main character is about to collapse into it, exhausted, then a potted description is in order.
D. Related to specificity -- finding the right word period. It's far more interesting to say "The microwave stand abutted the pantry so that the door constantly knocked into it." Not, "The microwave stand was right next to the pantry .... The other advantage of this is that it often cuts down on needless wordiness. The above subs one word for four. This will also help cut down on needless adjectives and adverbs. Prose is better with more specific verbs and nouns, and fewer adjectives and adverbs.
D. Last, not every room or place needs to be described every time -- especially not if doing so would interfere with the pacing of the story. Pacing isn't something that's easy to explain; it has to be felt. The amount of description needed will also (logically) lessen as a novel progresses, since places don't need to be described and re-described. E.g., if I describe a drawing room once, I won't do so again and again, although I may make mention of certain objects in it, at need.
2) Description of Character. How to help readers see characters.
Please, please show some creativity here. It can be very easy to get stuck in the "obvious" -- hair color, eye color, height, weight, even skin color.
Instead, think about a character's most distinctive features ... which may be none of the above. For instance, does your character have a notably deep space between nose and upper lip? Earlobes or no earlobes? Sharp jaw or soft jaw? Deep-set eyes or slightly protruding? Also, not everyone is attractive ... or should be. And not every character will have unusual coloring, either. It's perfectly okay to give a character brown hair, or dirty blond. (Although I think Marvel is allergic to the notion of a woman with normal haircolor.)
Description of characters, like place, may include non-visual sensory input. If a character hasn't showered in a while, that's notable! So, incidently, is "halitosis" (not a description I see much in fanfic ... but people DO have bad breath in RL). The sound of a voice in terms that go beyond high or low. Is a voice gravely or bell-pure? Last, beware of extended description of a wardrobe. I really don't give a damn what Character X is wearing unless it's particular and unique and lends itself to characterization. This is, admittedly, somewhat a matter of genre convention, but please don't go off on repeated, extended description of attire. It's boring to many readers. (There. Brutal but honest.)
Overdoing description can be a problem, particularly when it's the description of a known actor. I remember noticing this a lot in X-Files, but I've seen it in X-Men, too ... exaggerating character description. Now, (Scully) Gillian Anderson's eyes are not that startling a blue -- a pretty light grey -- but I can remember authors inventing all manner of exaggerations for them. By contrast, (Cyclops) Jimmy Marsden's eyes are a shocking shade of flat blue. But Marsden's hair is a kind of unexciting brown. Which is FINE. Let it be "plain brown." By contrast, (Magneto) Ian McKellen has quite striking silver hair (not least because he still has it!). If someone's coloring really is exceptional in some way, then it's worth noting, but otherwise ... don't overstress it.
3) Descriptions of action. Make sure it's physically possible ... and the dots connect.
I do think that some rigorous plotting is often in order, and even a little play-acting. Is the scene physiologically possible? Find a friend and run through it in slo-mo. This simple trick sometimes helps clarify (or even eliminate) scenes that require the contortions of a gymnast. Also, if the action is intense, making a flow-chart isn't a bad idea, especially if one is new to writing action, as it can help an author avoid accidentally leap-frogging over events and confusing a reader. Don't jump from A to D, remember B and C along the way.
4) Expository lumps. The dreaded information dump.
Almost any extended narrative, particularly of novella and novel length, will necessitate occasional use of exposition, and exposition is tricky. In my own experience, exposition is among the hardest narrative techniques, and my very best advice is simply to read authors who handle exposition well, to get a feeling for how they do it.
The key is to keep it rolling. When exposition bogs down or becomes too dense, it's sludge to slog through. Some simple tricks that can help include:
A. The use of alliteration ... that is, words that begin with the same sound. It's a trick snatched from poetry, but it works. (Just beware of overdoing it, or it starts sounding silly.)
B. Varying sentence structure. Again, a very simple trick that authors should be working on in any case, but it becomes especially important in extended blocks of narration.
C. The use of startling juxtaposition: "He watched the sway of her hair, unbound, rippling like their choices." What follows "like" isn't the simile one expects. How can choices "ripple"? But of course they do in the world of metaphor. Yet as with alliteration, this is a trick not to take too far. The startling juxtaposition won't work if it becomes too strained.
D. The use of whimsy. Things that are just mildly humorous flow more easily.
E. Including commentary and observation, not merely the relaying of facts. "Workhorse" descriptions are boring. They may give the information, but they're deadly dull to read. Throw in a little observation, though, particularly if it's insightful or whimsical, and it adds flare.
In addition, one can employ many of the tricks listed under place description ... notably particularity of language. But like writing good dialogue, ultimately, good exposition comes from a combination of ear for language, perception about people, and plain practice.
5) Words that fall off the page.
Most authors have a couple of these. They're words an author loves too much ... and overuses, often without realizing it. Be aware they happen and watch for them. Some are more obvious than others. A good friend of mine and a professional author (who shall remain nameless) has -- or at least had -- a special fondness for "kindled." Eyes "kindled." Passion "kindled." Temper "kindled." It got old fast. :-)
6) Sex.
Oh me, oh my, sex is SO easy to write badly. Of course, 'bad' is somewhat in the eye of the beholder -- one reader's turn OFF is another's turn on. It's also a matter of what one's goal is. The point of a sex scene may not be to arouse the reader ... it may be exactly the opposite. Or sex may be one means to character description or development. Nonetheless, sex is like any other form of description ... seek creative descriptions and avoid cliches. What does ___ really feel like? That will require a certain amount of honesty on the part of the writer, and not every writer is comfortable with that. Also, because the point of sex in fiction may be primarily to turn on readers, some writers will resort to "trigger words," whatever their own may be. (We don't all respond to the same words, of course.) But trigger words can be cliches, and should be guarded against.
------------
I'm sure I've forgotten something, but those are rules of thumb I use myself, and also that I share in workshops on writing. Description in particular is something that I think writers improve as they mature. A writer may handle good dialogue, or good characterization, or good action ... but does she or he handle good description?
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