Word painting could be described as

Mostly a waste of time—

There are some useful advice and exercises, I admit, but after about page 100, it loses focus and starts to ramble on about topics that are MUCH better dealt by other books, such as characters, point of view, setting, and plot. It actually made me angry and frustrated to be reading about something that, to me, had little to do with «description.»

Her useful advice can be listed as follows:

-Use descriptive, not explanatory or labeling words
-Use sensory, concrete details
-Describe an object in motion; if not try using active verbs
-Consider describing something by negation and try to find something surprising about the object you are describing
-Try providing sensory details other than visual

That’s the gist of the book. On second thought, her useful tips and pointers are pretty commonsensical and I doubt it’s worth the price to be reminded of.

The first four chapters are the most relevant, the fifth chapter on metaphors is pretty much impractical (try finding your «constellation of images»), the subjects of Chapters Six and Seven are much better treated by Orson Scot Card in his Characters and Viewpoint, Chapter Eight is mostly useless, Chapter Nine presented a few useful techniques (quickening the pace by adding sensory details, sprinkling details for effect, and delaying revealing details to increase tension), and the last Chapter is a sustained rumble on mood, tone, psychic distance, and The Big Ear, which we are encouraged to cultivate.

Another minor yet personally important grievance involves her absurd claim that «physical description of a character is such an important element of most fiction» (p.119) and I must say that, au contraire, physical description is the LEAST important element. Who the hell cares what the main guy’s nose looks like (ahem, Maltese Falcon) or the color of his or her eyes or hair? Those are the LEAST memorable, too.

I’m more of a believer in showing characters through action (Card seems to think so too). Another example: Heinrich von Kleist, one of famous German writers/playwrights, did away with physical description and showed them through their action. And his stories are dramatic and riveting.

Don’t waste your time or money on this.

This was an excellent guide for someone like me, who has always been much better at writing action and dialogue and plot than at description. If you’re one of those people who always has to pare down your writing, then this may not be for you.

You can tell right off the bat that McClanahan is a poet. I’m not overly fond of much poetry, but to read a writing book from the perspective of a poet was immensely helpful in taking me outside of my usual habits and prejudices so that I could actually learn how to be a better writer. McClanahan is thorough in her analysis of descriptive writing, and for me that thoroughness was entirely necessary to drill into my head that I need. To. Write. More. Descriptively.

One of the best ideas that McClanahan hit on over and over was the idea of the «fictional dream.» When a reader comes upon your book or poem or essay, he is allowing himself to be overcome by this fictional dream. However, you need to maintain this dream through the detail and nuance of your writing — otherwise he may snap out of it, which nobody wants. As a go through to write the second draft of my current work in progress, I will certainly keep the idea of the «fictional dream» in my mind at all times.

Again, I highly recommend this book to any writers who, like me, struggle to really flesh out their worlds and characters. It can get repetitive at times, but it’s been well worth it for me.

Rebecca McLanahan has produced a book that is both useful to writers and a great pleasure to read for its own sake. She manages this partly by her judicious selection of examples, but perhaps even more so by her graceful descriptions of her own writing techniques, subtly toned and coloured with touches of autobiography.

She gets the details right too. Consider, for example, this modest little paragraph:

‘Much of our writing energy is expended not in illuminating the deep mysteries of theme and symbol but in simply performing the physical tasks of the story, such as moving a character from the bed to the refrigerator. Or describing a small black button.’

She nails the writing task so well there. As writers, even when (or especially when) we know the things we do, we get a thrill to see them expressed so insightfully.

Reviewer David Williams has a regular writer’s blog http://writerinthenorth.blogspot.com

Absolutely stellar; I would recommend this to all writers of all genres looking to add that extra and necessary “something” to their works. McClanahan expertly imparts her wisdom on the beauty and vibrancy of description—or as she calls it, Word Painting.

Overwhelming at first, but extremely practical by the time I finished. Slow reading if you do the exercises. Now to apply all I learned…

A decent book with a lot of good advice, but man can it be long-winded at times. It starts to drag about halfway through and entirely loses focus by the end, delving into territory that’s covered much better, and in greater detail, by other books.

Honestly, if this book were half as long it would’ve been twice as good, because the beginning is actually pretty great. I loved the section on metaphor, simile, and other figures of speech, for instance, but the absolute best thing I took away from this book is «the proper and special name of a thing» which is something McClanahan stole from Aristotle, though I do not begrudge her for it because she lays it out so perfectly and so clearly (and also because she flat-out admits that fact right away). It is the relatively simple and, one might think, obvious idea that naming something, properly, does more to implant the image of that thing in the reader’s mind than a paragraph of description would.
That concept, and phrase, which is almost like a mantra, just clicked with me in a way that so few things do, and I will never, ever forget it.

Inspiring, helpful, clear as well as encouraging poetic and sensory description, McClanahan’s own writing is never dull. The examples she uses are from books I was mostly unaware of, which was great. I could not put this down as it was so pleasurable to read, a lovely journey from one section to the next and I could’t wait to try the exercises or improvise them into my work before the day’s editing.

Tough to get through but there are some gems in there if you want to improve your writing.

The book, valuable for writers who want to write more descriptively, is worth reading for the examples alone. Definitely new takeaways for me. My chief issues: 1) the author, at times, forced quotes about writing into arguments they weren’t well suited to; 2) I accidentally read the older edition, and so I can’t speak to whether the non-woke passages have since been revamped.

My fav quotes (not a review):
-Page 7 |
«the pneumatic wheeze as a bus rounds the corner, the rhythmic clackclackclack of a roller skater counting each sidewalk seam.»
-Page 7 |
«the world of the book I am reading has become, for the moment at least, more real than the world at my elbow. Books this good should carry a warning: Your quiche might burn, your child escape his playpen, the morning glory vine strangle your roses, and you’ll never know.»
-Page 10 |
«Theoretically speaking, description is one-third of the storytelling tripod. Exposition and narration are the other legs on which a story stands. Exposition supplies background information while narration supplies the story line, the telling of events, leaving description to paint the story’s word pictures.»
-Page 17 |
«Amazing grace, it appears, is bestowed not on the perpetually sighted but on those who «once were blind but now can see.» Just as youth is wasted on the young, eyes are wasted on those of us who see. Or think we see.»
-Page 26 |
«quiet attention or «looking with awe and wonder.» She says that if she looks long enough and hard enough at a painting—even one she doesn’t like at all—it begins to take on a life of its own and she is able to see why it’s considered a great work of art. I imagine what she’s seeing with her imaginative eye is something akin to Hopkins’s «inscape.»»
-Page 33 |
«If I’m a passenger, I record my images on paper; if I’m driving, I record them on cassette. The car is my floating studio, though the view passes more quickly than Monet’s view and is more tightly framed. If you want to engage your gliding eye, set up a floating studio or set yourself in motion while the world rushes by.»
-Page 34 |
«Man’s maturity, wrote Nietzsche, is «to regain the seriousness that he had as a child at play.»»
-Page 38 |
«Blow-by-blow descriptions of dreams are interesting only to the teller. If you don’t believe this, try recounting last night’s dream to your co-worker while you wait in line at the copy machine, and watch his eyes glaze over. Suddenly he glances at his watch, remembers a meeting he just has to attend, and is out of there—and just when you were getting to the good part, too.»
-Page 39 |
«For literary examples, read Theodore Roethke’s «Child on Top of a Greenhouse,» William Carlos Williams’s «Nantucket,» or James Wright’s «Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota.»»
-Page 48 |
«The short i is a bantamweight vowel, the lightest, most childlike sound in our language. A more weighty choice would have been a word like stone or root or nobody. Is there a vowel more heavy or sad than the long o?»
-Page 69 |
«For instance, instead of writing, «I feel a heavy guilt every time I go home,» you could write, «Guilt comes in the door with me, dragging its heavy suitcase.»»
-Page 72 |
«Smell is why real estate agents advise sellers to bake something—preferably bread or chocolate chip cookies—before a prospective buyer comes to call.»
-Page 82 |
«First, following Aristotle’s suggestion, she accurately names the objects of the story’s world: rattail comb, little teeth, bristles, strand, tiny nylon nails. Then she describes, patiently and precisely, the act itself. The hair isn’t merely brushed and combed; it is tugged, parted, scored, separated, nipped, untangled, lifted. The writer breaks one broad generic act into its specific and significant steps,»
-Page 83 |
«During the preliminary parting and scoring, the sentences are broken into short segments. Then, as the brushing continues and the narrator gives in to the sensual experience, the sentences grow longer, more leisurely, suggesting the rhythms of sex—which happens to be the subject of a subsequent section of Adams’s novel.»
-Page 85 |
«My favorite was plinkle, which the boy invented for a story about his sister plucking violin strings. When I questioned him about why he didn’t use pluck, he shook his head adamantly. «Pluck is too deep,» he said. «Hers is more like the way an angel would do it. You know, plinkle.»»
-Page 88 |
«What does a sun look like going down over the ocean? It’s like touching a rose after it has rained.»
-Page 89 |
«Freedom is like putting three strawberries in your mouth at a time, touching the wet coldness of it, looking at the redness, hearing the crisp wonder in the air. Tiffany, 3rd grade»
-Page 93 |
«Keep a sensory journal for a month, devoting each weekday to one of the five senses. For example, if you choose Monday as «scent day,» then every Monday during the month you’ll describe in detail three things you smelled that day. If Tuesday is «sound day,» describe in detail three sounds you heard that day.»
-Page 94 |
«Visualize the egg. Then ask yourself questions about it. Where is it? In a straw basket lined with dish towels? Beneath a broody hen? On the top branch of a tree? On the embroidered panel of a child’s Easter dress?»
-Page 95 |
«Describe a place or a person by mixing two or more smells—like my description of my college boyfriend, who smelled of motor oil, cigarettes and Dial soap.»
-Page 95 |
«Employ synesthesia. Describe an object, place, person or idea by using one sense to suggest another. What color is the silence in your bedroom? What is the shape of your grandmother’s laughter? What smell emanates from fear?»
-Page 96 |
«Reality is a cliche from which we escape by metaphor —Wallace Stevens, from Opus Posthumous»
-Page 99 |
«It derives from the Greek metaphora, which breaks into two parts: meta («over») and pherein («to carry»). Moving vans in Greece are often marked with the word Metaphora to suggest the transfer of items from one place to another.»
-Page 106
«In metonymy, we refer to something not by its own name but by something closely related to it. The President is «the White House.» «From birth to death» becomes «from cradle to grave.» And who’s watching the baby? Not a mother, but «the hand that rocks the cradle.»»
-Page 108
«Anna Karenina throws herself under the wheels of a train, Cinderella’s stepsister slices off her toes so her foot can fit into the slipper, and Hemingway’s Kino finds the pearl of great price.»
-Page 123
«Wideman’s description also passes the third test of «the proper and special naming of a thing.» It is musically appropriate. «Spiked,» «bristle,» and «clipped» appeal to our ear as well as to our eye. The repetition of «i» provides musical unity, while the harsh, brittle consonants reinforce the brusque treatment both the grass and the prisoners receive.»
-Page 124
«For instance, from the list above you might combine nibble and kites to form «kites nibble at the sky.» Blossom, sorrow and song might form «Sorrow blossoms into song.» Once the metaphorical connection is made, you can reword your metaphor: «Yellow kites take bites of the sky» or «Sorrow’s song is a blossom.»»
-Page 144
«Those of us who write for the page can travel to places a camera can never travel, the internal landscape and mindscape of our characters and ourselves.»
-Page 145
«Reading Kundera, I always feel I’m living inside the characters rather than watching them move, bodily, through the world.»
-Page 159
«It’s as if the forest is alive, wrapping itself around both speaker and reader. The two sentences that follow, on the other hand, are objectively reported, as if spoken by someone totally removed from the scene. The psychic distance between the two voices is staggering. Any shift in point of view—in visual perspective, psychic distance or a shift from the vantage point of one character to another—must be carefully executed.»
-Page 177
«Since a godlike narrator is capable of infinite knowledge, it seems natural that he would want to impart this knowledge to his readers. Exposition appeals more to the mind than to the senses;»
-Page 177
«Generally speaking, description shows; exposition tells.»

This is a fantastic read. McClanahan has created a readable, informative and practical guide to improving a writer’s descriptive power. I was attracted to the title and cover, «Word Painting» and a reproduction of Manet’s impressionist look at Monet and his wife on a boat. I had never connected writing to painting. While admitting that they are both a form of art, I was always too intimidated to consider painting, I can’t even draw a nice stick figure person. Anyway, as I started to read I realized that not only is the information in the book extremely well thought out, nicely organized and very practical, I noticed that her writing style uses all of her advice throughout the book. She is a poet so her prose feels very lyrical, but she also utilizes descriptive techniques she teaches.

McClanahan discusses point of view, physical and psychical distance, Aristotle’s ideas of active description, how to have your full work have plenty of description in the appropriate places (not in chunky blocks or just dropped in because you feel you need some description here), using all of our senses in describing, being a careful and obsessive observer, warnings about cliches, problems with tone and attitude and a great review of literary devices (theme, motif, atmosphere), and figurative language such as simile, metaphor, symbol, metonymy, etc.

Reading this list may make it seem as though her attention is scattered around the literary world, but it isn’t. Everything goes back to description. She also provides exercises at the back of each chapter. I read it straight through but I am keeping it as a reference guide.

This book offers an in-depth study of how to write an effective description. And there’s no single way of accomplishing the task. Though the author provides some basic “rules” such as avoiding filter words and passive sentences, most of the book takes a deeper look at descriptive writing, including but not limited to, how point of view impacts description, the use of simile and metaphor, establishing tone, and how to write active versus static passages. Numerous examples from well-known books illustrate each descriptive technique.

This is not a quick read, but it is thorough, and a good “textbook” for the serious writer. At the end of each chapter are numbered suggestions for both broadening and pinpointing a writer’s observational skills and for practicing the techniques presented in the text. I read this as a kindle book, but with the advantage of hindsight, recommend the paperback version for writers intending to refer back to the text for ideas or practice at a later time.

There were a few really good tidbits, but you have to slog through so much abstract wordiness to get to them, nothing sticks.

I bought this book because «writing descriptively» is one my favorite aspects of writing. But the 260 pages of flowery theory were a chore to get through. Sometimes it seemed so abstract or off-topic that it went over my head, and sometimes it seemed so duh that I wonder if that was actually going over my head too.

As much as I love a creative comparison or original description, the over-enthusiasm in this book felt, to me, like the author had a list of all these clever metaphors that she had to use up somewhere, and a list of book passages to rave about, so she splattered them all together on a wall and called it a painting.

When the student is ready, the master appears. I started this book several years ago but never got through it. Fast forward, I decided to start over on this about a month ago and I can say the wisdom imparted in this book is something that will stay with me for the remainder of life. It’s beautifully written for one, also it gives you all the tools and techniques you need to start writing more thoughtfully, lovingly and descriptively.

This just took too long to say things, and when she did it was things that I already knew, which was probably why I was bored.

I do wish I’d read this a year ago, but the things in this book are the things that my editors have beat into my head.

I do think new writers would learn a lot from this book, but they would need to be patient with long-winded discussions.

This book is geared more toward the budding writer. Experienced authors won’t find anything new here. On a side note… the fact this author chose passages using the N word is unacceptable. I also noticed the author has a major problem with “fat” people as she uses the term or passage examples repeatedly. Same goes for sex. Her own “word painting” told a tale of a woman with many prejudices.

‘Like painters, writers are the receptors of sensations from the real world and the world of the imagination, and effective description demands that we sharpen our instruments of perception.‘

Rebecca McClanahan is the author of ten books — ranging across poetry, fiction, memoir and non-fiction — and has won a list of prizes for her works. She is also an educator in creative writing, as an instructor at the MFA program in Queens University of Charlotte, North Carolina. She was approached by the editors of Writer’s Digest Books in 1998 to write a book on description. ‘Word Painting‘ is the resultant text.

Writing description is hard. Writing in my journal, I’m more at ease in the harvesting of self-reflection or the prognostication of speculation. But this is a narrow way to be in relationship with the world. The dimensions of people and the contours of the world are exciting, but my writing, although touching on events, never feels truly comfortable in their relaying (or at least, until I picked up this book). To keep a journal that records events does not necessarily require a descriptive oomph, as can be seen in David Sedaris’s ‘Theft by Finding: Diaries (1977–2002)‘. His entries are enjoyable, detailing his life in Chicago and New York, without the need for scintillating description. A contrast to this is Sylvia Plath’s Journals, who writes at such length per entry and with such density of imagery and description that one can only resign themselves to an exhalation and a nod of the head in respect for her ability. I would like to be somewhere in the middle. Mainly, I want to enjoy describing meeting up with friends, and sketching the ordinariness of the everyday. I want there to be a creative fulfillment to it and to be surprised by the outpouring of my scribbling pen. ‘Word Painting‘ and Natalie Goldberg’s excellent ‘Writing Down the Bones‘, have greatly helped in this wish.

What separates McClanahan’s book from other texts that I’ve read on writing is its focus on description, which the title ‘Word Painting‘ is a synonym for. This part of writing is mentioned in passing in Stephen King’s ‘On Writing‘, and is barely touched on deliberately in William Strunk’s classic, ‘The Elements of Style‘. Having a book then dedicated to this component is invaluable. The first five chapters offer a definition of description, visual description, the essential usage of the other senses and figurative language. For those interested, the chapters are:

‘Chapter One: What is Description?
Chapter Two: The Eye of the Beholder
Chapter Three: From Eye to Word: The Description
Chapter Four: The Nose and Mouth and Hand and Ear of the Beholder
Chapter 5: Figuratively Speaking: A «Perception of Resemblances»‘

Given my aim outlined above, I am at this stage less interested in the second half of the book. The author dedicates this to the makeup of writing fiction and components like POV, the development of characters, setting and plot. This part still offered excellent perspectives on writing fiction, which I haven’t found elsewhere. For completion, the chapters are:

‘Chapter Six: Bringing Characters to Life Through Description
Chapter Seven: The Eye of the Teller: How Point of View Affects Description
Chapter Eight: The Story Takes Its Place: Descriptions of Setting
Chapter Nine: Plot and Place: How Description Shapes the Narrative Line
Chapter Ten: The Big Picture‘

As there are so many different exercises that I enjoyed and employ in my own writing. I will list some of them below with a small comment:

If there is a payment for good description, it is attention. A scene does not reveal itself all at once:

‘Description begins in the beholder’s eye, and it requires attention. If we look closely enough at something and stay in that moment long enough, we may be granted new eyes. Or ears. On his album Noel, Paul Stookey (of Peter, Paul and Mary fame) discusses his process of writing songs: “Sometimes,” he says, “if you sit in one place long enough, you get used. You become the instrument for what it is that wants to be said.”‘

As an exercise in attention, McClanahan gives us an exercise in using our naked eye (which she distinguishes from the imaginative eye):

‘To train your naked eye to see more intently, try this exercise in observation. Choose an ordinary object in your home. It might be something you use every day—a comb, a blanket, a salad bowl. Or it might be an object that’s been around forever but is seldom used—your mother’s wedding pearls, a hammer hanging on a Peg-Board, the avocado-green fondue pot from your first marriage. Set a timer for ten minutes, and don’t move until the time is up. During these ten minutes, your only job is to study the object. Stare at it. Notice every detail—its color, its shape, each part that contributes to the whole.‘

The advice that has most altered my own writing is the so-called imaginative eye. McClanahan tells us that rather than view, say, a coffee shop only with our naked eye — whose contents could feasibly be jotted down by several observant onlookers — we must launch our imagination to unlock more of the scene. She writes that this is achieved by engaging in associative thinking and seizing the bodies of memories. Additionally, she gives us another excellent activity that inhibits the tendency to see only what is in front of us:

‘After you’ve described the object’s qualities in concrete, sensory terms, you may wish to explore qualities only your imaginative eye can see. During your ten minutes of observation, did your mind wander? Did the object remind you of something else? Did you recall a memory associated with the object? Meditation often takes us into reverie, memory, digression, and even dreamlike states.‘

‘After studying a photograph, describe it as precisely as possible, using concrete and specific detail to show what your naked eye sees. Then engage your imaginative eye. Employ negative space, describing what you can’t see. What might lie outside the borders of the image? Who do you
imagine took the photo? Who or what is missing from the scene? What happened right before the photograph was snapped, or right after?‘

‘Another focusing activity is the “third eye” exercise I learned from Kenneth Koch’s Wishes, Lies, and Dreams. At first I used the exercise only with children in my poetry-in-the-schools work, but I discovered that the third eye concept works equally well for adults. Imagine that you have a third eye in the middle of your head, an eye that sees only what your other two eyes cannot see. Your third eye can see into any dimension of time and space, penetrating unseen mysteries. It possesses unlimited power. Well, almost unlimited. Remember, it can’t see what the naked eye sees. The only way to engage your third eye is to refuse to use images perceived through the naked eye. Sometimes the best way to describe our world is with our eyes closed. Daily life clouds our sight and our insight, especially when we spend time before televisions and various computer devices, where the visual world is frantic and fragmented, breaking into images lasting only seconds. Overwhelmed by visual stimuli, we can take in no more. The world has become a blur, each color and shape vying for our attention. Our naked eye becomes so filled that our inner eye refuses to see.‘

Another very practical exercise is to change visual POV in a scene. Rather than look at the layout of the coffee shop from one’s POV, look at it from the POV of the steaming mug or from the row of delectable cakes that sit next to the till:

‘Change your visual point of view. Stare at the same scene from several different focal points—lying flat on your back and looking up, peering through a peephole, looking down from a mountain, airplane, or diving board. Or frame an ordinary scene in new ways. Look through a window. Roll a sheet of paper into a tube and study the scene through a new lens. Distort a realistic view by looking through prisms, kaleidoscopes, or 3-D glasses. Then describe the scene through the lens of each eyepiece.

Deconstruct a ‘whole’ into its parts. We tend to see people or objects as unitary things but McClanahan encourages us to break that tendency:

‘One way to focus on details is to describe the various parts that make up the whole. A tangerine, for instance, consists of rind, juice, seeds, fruit, pulp, grainy membranes, stem, blossoms, and leaves. Describing each of these parts will force you to notice details you might otherwise overlook, what Chekhov called the “little particulars.”‘

Following an excerpt from Jane Brox’s essay, ‘Bread‘, McLanahan emphasises the need to properly name things and use strong verbs. One only needs to read Sylvia Plath’s collection of ‘Ariel‘ to see that someone as gifted as she repeatedly employ strong verbs and the specific names of objects:

‘More basic even than Brox’s strong verbs and sensory detail is her use of concrete, specific nouns. By naming the items of the baker’s world accurately and precisely, providing what Aristotle called “the proper and special name of a thing,” she invites us into the literary dream: flour, dough, enamel scale, disk, oven towels, muslin, olive, fresh cheese, slice of lamb. Each noun anchors us, keeping us firmly planted in the world being described.‘

On the chapter on figurative language, McClanahan gives us two exercises which allows us to make more metaphorical leaps and personify the abstract:

‘The object of the exercise is to trick your mind into making metaphorical leaps. Once you’ve filled your word basket, select at random four or five cards, spread them out on your desk, and combine two or more to form a simile, metaphor, or other figure of speech. For instance, from the list above you might combine nibble and kites to form “kites nibble at the sky.” Blossom, sorrow, and song might form “Sorrow blossoms into song.” Once the metaphorical connection is made, you can reword your metaphor: “Yellow kites take bites of the sky” or “Sorrow’s song is a blossom.”‘

‘Write a description of a natural object, idea, or emotion using personification or animism. Again, verbs are natural entries into both figures of speech. If you’re animating greed, for instance, ask yourself how greed moves or acts. Does it grab, clutch, or seize? Does it devour? The verbs might be enough to suggest personification or animism, or you can allow the verbs to lead you further in the writing process. If greed grabs, perhaps it has tentacles. If it devours, it might have a mouth. What kind of mouth? Using paradox, write a description of one of your characters. You can apply the paradox to a physical description of your character or to your character’s motives or emotions. In either case, choose two qualities that seem to be contradictory; then place them side by side. For instance, you might write that Eloise’s face was “scarred and beautiful” or “beautifully scarred.”‘

Lastly, McLanahan gives an excellent metaphor for why we can’t rely solely on the visual sense, and the importance of the other four:

‘Yet to ignore the other four senses in your writing is comparable to sitting in a gourmet restaurant wearing earplugs, work gloves, and a surgical mask over your nose and mouth. Sure, you can still read the menu. You can even enjoy the artist’s palette, the purple radicchio curled on top of the mixed greens. You can hold your wineglass to the light and admire its fluted stem. But you can’t hear the clink when you raise the glass for a toast. Or the sibilant intimacies from the couple in the next booth. And what about the hot, crusty roll the waiter just placed with a tong on your bread plate? It looks hot, it looks crusty, but how will you know unless you pick it up with your bare hands, feel its weight and shellacked surface, break it open, and feel the steam escaping from the soft center? You swirl the butter knife in the white crock, spread a smear of herb-speckled butter on the bread, lift it to your mouth. Were you not wearing a mask, you might detect the scent of rosemary even before the bread touches your lips.‘

I had been longing after a book on how to write description, and McClanahan’s surpassed my expectations. In my own writing, I wanted to be surprised more often, to gawk at unplanned directions or word choices that can emerge from the practice. This book has given me the tools to do that. A big thank you to the author for accepting that request all those years ago!

As a writer of fantasy, it can be easy to turn one’s nose up at literary fiction and, by extension, writing books that focus on literary fiction (McClanahan does include some passing references to sci-fi/fantasy and historical fiction, but it’s clear this is far outside her area of expertise). However, learning to write vivid, precise descriptions of people, places, and things can help set good fantasy apart from the merely mediocre, and thus writers of genre fiction can certainly benefit from opening this book. Some of the writing exercises have already proved useful.

One thing I particularly liked about Word Painting was that McClanahan fills her book with examples of authors who write well. I feel that it is entertaining, but also all too easy, to fill one’s ‘how-to-write’ book with examples of how NOT to write. While it is fun to laugh at the mistakes and foibles of beginning writers, it doesn’t teach you how to do it better. But McClanahan has chosen genuinely good examples of the points she wants to make, and readers and writers alike benefit from her thoughtful analysis.

This book was a pleasure to read. Not only was it informative, it was well written. Although aimed more towards the literary, there is no reason why the well structured advice cannot be applied to genre fiction. In fact, genre fiction is probably where it is most needed. How many times have we read a good thriller or crime novel that keeps us turning the page because of intrigue or action, only to feel detached from the characters, or get that icky feeling when the emotion of a scene jars with the setting or tone? Then the novel comes across as unpolished even though it might be technically error free. This book goes beyond the nuts and bolts of writing, and for some, will open up a world of true creation and inspiration. It shows why good writing is a craft. I highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys writing, whether they intend to publish or not. There are multitudes of examples of the topics discussed and numerous writing exercises to help a writer develop.

If you read one book on writing, this should be it!

Word Painting goes beyond just «painting» a scene for your readers using adjectives. The author goes into great detail of how to use language itself to demonstrate to readers your theme, setting, atmosphere, everything a good story will need. The book even delves into how to use the art of what remains unsaid, the tool of silence, in writing to convey a description.

Bring a highlighter and your journal along while reading this book. Word Painting is not just a «how to write» book; it’s also an inspirational manual as well. If you’re a writer, you’ll itch to try out some of the techniques in your own style. Furthermore, there are plenty of opportunities to flex your writing muscles with great exercises at the end of each chapter. I can’t wait to do some of them for myself.

Overall, a great book that teaches how to use language in an artful way. If you’re a writer, I recommend this book ten times over.

Without a doubt, Word Painting is worth reading if you want to continue working on your descriptive writing techniques and development of Setting. There is a lot of useful information and the exercises are well thought out and helpful. McClanahan is an enjoyable author to read and uses a lot of personal stories to create analogous relationships to writing.

The book still has problems. It rambles, structurally at times it is incoherent, and the analysis of som writing could be better. Since this is a book on writing it becomes a big deal. Is it worth the read? Sure. But don’t feel bad flipping through areas that feel mundane (for me the last chapter was almost pointless, but that may also just be me)

It has taken me three tries to finally finish this book.
The advice is great. It is obvious from the start (with the description of apples) that the author knows her stuff. But as the book progresses, it becomes more and more difficult to keep engaged with the words.
The first half is absolutely useful. I learned a lot from it.
The second half… not so much. The author starts going on tangents and giving abstract explanations instead of the precise simple ones she was giving at the beginning.
Not a bad book, comparable to Description by Monica Wood, although I liked that one better only because it kept me reading without needing three tries to finish it.

Great advice. The author sounds like a literary author from her style, seems to write «literary type things» and often quotes literary type authors (like the total snob Gardner blech) but she is not at all rude about genre fiction when it is mentioned. Basically, she offers a lot of good advice for if you want to have the richer, deeper descriptions that are found in literary works more often than in genre fiction, but doesn’t put down genre writers. It is really refreshing to see this, and I’m glad for it, being a genre writer who enjoys rich description

This is a good book about writing, particularly fiction writing.
Author of the book details the important challenges one feel in writing like description, role of five senses, using the right word, influence of author’s point of view.
This book tries to point out all the challenges one feels subconsciously while writing.
Though too much examples are derailing the concentration. One thing I dislike about books is the exercise, and this book has at the and of each chapter.

At the end of the book, author placed a very good list of book references categorized into Eye, Word, Story

This was an excellent read. For those looking to improve the descriptive quality of their writing—both fiction and non-fiction—this is a must read. I initially read through it for a Creative Writing class, but I will definitely be revisiting this writing guide. The book contains many useful tips as well as helpful exercises to practice what you have learned in each chapter. It’s worth every penny spent on it!

This book is geared more toward the budding writer. Experienced authors won’t find anything new here. On a side note… the fact this author chose passages using the N word is unacceptable. I also noticed the author has a major problem with “fat” people as she uses the term or passage examples repeatedly. Same goes for sex. Her own “word painting” told a tale of a woman with many prejudices.

Best book about writing description. Get it!

Interesting look at writing via descriptions. I’ll use the suggestions to bring freshness into writing.