The next time you have a vague idea for a story, or even a clear memory you wish to impart, first stop to meditate upon the five senses involved.
When we write entirely from a cerebral lens, noting the mechanics, rhetoric and unfolding events, we miss half the fun of writing. We will always benefit from initially tapping into our sensory world. Connecting to the sensuality of a story can drive more potent images, a poetic style, and infuse your writing with spiritual energy.
Sit in a comfortable position. Breathe deeply for several minutes.
Focus on the setting of your story. Begin with the larger scope, landscape, architecture, colors, and climate. Stay there. Say singular words aloud or in your mind to identify this world.
Breathe mindfully some more.
Sight
Sight is typically our first go-to sensation. Therefore, allow the visuals to gain focus. Sizes, shapes, surfaces, light and shade, natural and fabricated. Pay attention to movements. Do these details create a particular vibe? What tone do you wish to set? List singular sight words and phrases now: yellow, floating, blood spray, gleam, city, mountain, etc….
Sound is next.
Distant sounds, such as trains and ships, or immediate sounds, like a knock, a splash, voices, and wind. What are all the sounds that make up this scene? Is any sound a movement, or erratic and random? What words describe these sounds?
Don’t forget we are breathing steadily now. Soften your jaw. Close your eyes, or softly gaze upon the floor just ahead of you.
Touch enters now with textures, temperatures, and what aesthetics are at play.
How do these stimulations impact one’s experience? Pleasure, or pain? Fur, ice, cement, or glass. Do these tactiles impact one’s mood? Breeze, rain, sunshine, a comb, a hot pan. Do they comfort or strain, leaving the skin itchy, soothed or hesitant?
Smells are neglected in the English language.
Because of this, we almost always focus only on food. But there are lots of nuanced smells in the air, on our bodies, inside a room, sometimes pleasant and sometimes repugnant. Where do they come from, and what does it often imply? My grandparents entrance was into the walkout basement in the woods. The first smell was sour mothballs, which kept the mice from settling into the lower level. To this day, mothballs provide a deep, safe nostalgia, despite their unpleasant smell. Same with cow manure – our family farm – a wonderful memory. Be careful with your smells, since your readers might not share your sentiments.
Taste is tricky.
Tastes in English provides even less words for our use, aside from foods, so perhaps stick with food as metaphors, and its abundance of tastes, gourmet or basic, whichever matches your story.
Side Note: Do your best to avoid using the specific words “sight, sound, touch, smell and taste” as it tends to be unnecessary. The sound of a horn is easily just “a horn” or “a honk” or “a blare.”
Now that your list is swirling about the ol’ noggin, and you can better apply sensory language to your opening scene!
