One Second of Detail
By Barbara O'Neal | July 22, 2015 |
One of the great struggles of all writing is to create fresh, vibrant images and metaphors, to avoid the sin of telling and show the reader whatever it is we want them to see. I struggle with it as much as anyone, especially because I’ve been writing novels for a couple of decades now, and I only have my own eyes and ears out there in the world.
Recently, I’ve fallen in love with an app for my smart phone, 1 Second Everyday. The idea is simple—to record a one second video per day. It seems impossible that one second could show anything at all, but you’d be surprised. This is a one second video I recorded this morning.
You know what’s going on, right? I’m picking ripe English peas from my garden. On the surface, that’s a very simple act, but there’s a lot of detail and mood packed into that single second. The vines themselves, vigorous and fecund, the cool, even light of morning in the greenhouse, the pod itself snapping off in my fingers. The fingers belong to a woman who knows to plant peas in a shady place, who knows when to harvest them.[pullquote] Ordinary life is where all the miracles are. [/pullquote]
The app has made me think a lot about detail, about how we tell stories, how we choose from the thousands of seconds available in a single day to capture something. I don’t give a lot of thought to what videos to shoot—I just let my wandering attention settle on this thing or that and shoot it. I end up then capturing the things I care about—my cat trying to get on the roof from the top of the patio umbrella; my dog and I walking the parkways; his orange tail swishing; sage leaves sizzling in a pan to garnish a dish of ricotta and peas. Maybe yours would be a child or a training run or the street in front of your apartment.
I desperately wanted to take a one second video of a man who came into the salon the other day. I was waiting for my stylist, and an old hippie looking dude settled in a colorist’s chair. He was well into his sixties, with long white hair and a long white beard. He wore a long sleeved t-shirt and jeans with the cuffs rolled up and plain red Keds. He was there to get his hair bleached, I think. He looked as if he didn’t care about his appearance, but instead, he cares a lot. I wrote that paragraph to myself, just to capture him because I couldn’t take the video.
Which circles around to the practice I’ve engaged in for a long time, “In the moment….” I’ve used it in workshops and lectures to help writers connect to the present, to listen and observe and record, both on the page and more importantly, in the brain, what is actually happening around them. I use it as a tool myself, while traveling to ground myself in the actual thing in front of me not my irritation at the long lines or the heat. The sound of Hindi in the line at the airport. The blue and gold sari of the old woman speaking. The weariness of her husband with his hunched shoulders and heavy black glasses, looking away from her.
What is happening right now gives us everything we need.
One moment of detail, one second of true observation, can give us a wealth of information about a character, a setting, a charged situation between characters. In your writing, if you focus on a single second, you will naturally avoid cliché, and bring the real life freshness of ordinary life to the work. Ordinary life is where all the miracles are, all the freshness you could ever need to infuse your writing with powerful, original details.
Try it right now. Set a timer for one minute and write, “In the moment…..”
Mine is this: in the moment, I’m writing my column for Writer Unboxed. A cool breeze is blowing in through my window. An airplane from the Air Force Academy is circling on training flights. Finches are singing in the pine tree. It’s hard to stay in the moment because I have a lot to do today in preparation for a trip, but I need to get my work done before I pack.
Now. In this paragraph, I wrote something I’ve never written before, about the training flights. I live very close to the Air Force Academy and this particular sound is one I take for granted, but I never wrote it down. Will I use it? I don’t know. But it’s there if I need it.
1 Second Everyday has given me a greater awareness of the seconds of life. By standing in each moment, I notice all of them. I stand more often right where I am, aware that it is unbearably fleeting, that the seeds will sprout and grow and produce and wither, that the little girl who was a baby the other day will be a woman tomorrow. It gives me a sense of my own fleeting time on the planet, which lends sweetness to every action, every moment, every book read and written.
And that brings a very special power to the work, too.
View the TED talk on 1 Second Everyday.
What practices do you have to keep filling the well with creative details? Do you take time to build observation into daily life, or do you make time for artist’s dates? What detail can you share about your ordinary, miraculous life with us here?
[coffee]
Barbara O’Neal is the author of more than a dozen award-winning, bestselling novels, including the runaway bestseller, When We Believed in Mermaids, which has been published in more than 20 countries and spent many months on the Amazon Charts, as well as the Wall Street Journal, USA Today, and Washington Post bestseller lists. Barbara lives on the beach in rugged Oregon with her husband, a British endurance athlete who vows he’ll never lose his accent and their zoo of cats and dogs. You can find more information on her newsletter and where to find her on social media at barbaraoneal.com.
Thank you for this dose of inspiration this morning, Barbara! Love it. Hungry for peas.
This is something that is so easy to lose in the hussle and running about that is most people’s lives these days. I don’t have any scheduled time or routine that I consistently use, but I do try to take time to look everyday. Sometimes it’s time to listen or smell or touch. Sometimes a mix of them all.
There is a lake a few miles from my home that was created by quarrying. I love driving out there. Usually, if the mosquitoes aren’t too bad, I find a spot to park my car and walk along the edge of the roads that border the lake. I feel the breeze that nearly omnipresent in the midwest. I smell the water and the vegetation. I hear and see frogs and insects and birds. Lots of birds – which is part of why I go out there. I’m a birder as well as a nature lover.
If I can’t get to the lake, I look out my windows, or at things in my home. I watch my cats.
Sometimes, too often I’m sure, the hard part is getting back to work writing. ;-)
Love the idea that focusing on the detail can help us avoid cliche — and, oddly, the more specific we get in description the more universal it feels (which is what writers are going for when they use cliches, I think).
My one second/one minute: As I was reading your piece, I was sitting on the couch with my morning tea, my mug (full confession, my WU UnConference mug) nestled just below my diaphragm, between the halves of my ribcage — exactly where my mother and my grandfather rest their warm cups of tea and coffee when they’re sitting in their comfortable spots.
I love the specificity of your ribs. Just like that,so fresh and real.
The woman speaking Hindi. Her husband turning away. This short description struck a chord for me. It’s a poignant moment full of depth and intimacy. It set my imagination loose filling in their backstory! Very powerful. I walk around the pond every morning and try to notice what’s there without running a mental narrative through it all. That’s a practice in itself! And yes, artist’s dates. Little rewards for a good day’s work. The kid in me really likes those. But the takeaway for me is that moments, even seconds, aren’t as linear as we think they are. They run deep. Thanks for reminding me!
Thanks for the insightful article Barbara. You’re right – the miracles happen right under our noses every day. We just have to pay attention to them.
Hello Barbara. Your post today concerns that feature in writing all scribblers depend on to distinguish excellence from mere competence: the treatment of detail. In my view, it can’t be emphasized often enough, and the examples you provide make just that point. Discovering the drone of a training plane overhead from the Air Force Academy, something there all along, but only now noticed. The cameo of the old hippy in a beauty salon (done beautifully and economically from memory–I assume you didn’t have your phone out), the tired husband in heavy glasses.
We can conscientiously read craft books, go to conferences and workshops, join writers’ groups. But when push comes to shove, how the writer approaches detail can only be refined through sharpening her observation, and close reading of good authors.
About apps and smart phones: I can’t defend my distrust of “capturing” reality in the way you describe–whatever works is good, as the pragmatist says. But I do distrust it. I remember being with my grandchildren at Disney World. Everywhere we went, I saw parents and grandparents making videos to be viewed later, in the family room or the hotel. Is the experience of the moment diminished by experiencing it as material through a camera lens? Does the process of capturing “the moment” in this way alter it? I think it does. But you are a successful professional novelist of longstanding, so who shall say you nay? If this new technology serves your purpose in terms of detail, more power to you. For me, though, your handling of the old hippy from memory says that, in that moment, you got everything you needed all on your own.
Thank you.
Barry, I do think we have to be careful about using technology and devices because if that danger of losing the moment. If we treat it like a sketchbook or a diary, it can be useful. You’re right that I didn’t take a picture or record details if the old hippie, nor the woman and her husband. Training the mind is the most useful tool of all.
Loved this post! In this second I’m waiting to get my teeth cleaned, TV music singing in the background writing to you. Awesome awareness!
Barbara-
More and more I admire your mind. Speaking of fresh, that’s how you come at story. You always have an angle that is craft-wise but also heart-wise.
The topic of detail has been on my mind a lot too. Why does it matter? As you say, it is part of connection. It’s one way we hook into the reality of the story. But I think there are tricks to it. For instance….
As I look down at my hands on the keyboard, I see that my forearms are red-brown from the sun. Outside, there is the sound of construction on West 27th Street. A new hotel is going up. If I squish my toes in my sneakers I can feel grains of sand. I am just back from southern California, my imagination alive in two places at once.
Honestly, I don’t think there is anything interesting or connective about my sunburn. No one particular cares about the construction noise in my corner of New York City this morning. But when those two things come into opposition, when I’m torn in two directions, there is a smidgen of tension.
In selecting and deploying detail, it may be important to consider whether it is adding notes of harmony or conflict–or nothing in particular at all. What do you think?
(Coffee coming your way.)
What a wonderful and inspiring post, Barbara – and another clue as to why I always find your books so enjoyable to read. Thank you!
“One moment of detail, one second of true observation, can give us a wealth of information about a character, a setting, a charged situation between characters.”
This is going on the board above my desk. Thank you.
I love this full-of-wisdom post, Barbara. Thank you.
(Typing replies on my phone today, so everyone please forgive typos)
Don, thanks for that rich glimpse into your world. Introducing conflict or harmonic influences like this is s brilliant way of using detail to subtly direct the reader.
I’m downloading the app right now.
Barbara,
What a simple and profound post . . . just like the technique you describe. The beauty of noticing even just one detail is the subsequent sense being immersed in vitality, in the whole (that ‘thing’ which eludes us when we’re not aware.) And so it is for readers, too. One detail immerses them in their version or our story world.
It doesn’t get better than that . . or your post. I’m going to slap this on my computer.
Love, love, love this post! The one-second exercise is a beautiful way to be “mindful.”
I love this idea of a one second video. Such little effort for a jumping off point for new stories or existing work. Thanks for including this!
Barbara –
Your observations are vivid.
I absolutely agree about being more mindful of those “in the moment” moments. Sometimes they’re like finding gold.
Years ago, I was waiting in a parked car and saw a woman pass who was wearing a crucifix around her neck. She was turning the metal cross between her thumb and forefinger as she walked by. That one gesture is what I still remember about her today, a gesture that was almost enough to launch a good character sketch, maybe more.
Thanks for reminding us of the power of observed details. And thank you Don for connecting tension to these moments when conflict might be present, which with the lady and the crucifix it might have been.
This is such a great idea, Barbara. I want to try this for an extended period of time, without looking back, then see if the entirety of the moments pulls together in a meaningful way, the tiny everyday details of life perhaps inspiring a larger story I would have otherwise overlooked. Not the point of the exercise maybe, but the thought intrigues me. Thanks.
That’s a wonderful idea, Brunonia.
Loved this post and the Ted Talk! I was amazed at the insight I found from watching the accompanying video of 1 second moments in his talk and from your one second video. Vibrant, beautiful moments captured. Also love the idea of the one second trigger memories and how that helps to remember entire days and longer. I can’t wait to apply it to my writing, both in written and video form. Thanks so much for sharing.
In my current novel, the protagonist is a small woman who, because of a number of circumstances, became a U.S. Marine MP.
It occurred to me that virtually all former active duty Marines and other military personnel would not accept the premise that a small woman could subdue or put down a larger, sometimes a much larger, opponent than herself.
So I made her a student of Tomiki aikido–a martial art that teaches one how to use wrist locks and other movements to defeat larger and meaner people. I decided it would give credibiliity to my character to describe in slow motion detail her fights and arrests, rather than simply take a Smith & Wesson collapsible baton to a bad guy’s knee, that that can work extremely well. But the slow motion movements I describe–after watching videos over and over again–show how she is able to take down a guy charging her, his knife drawn. As he thrusts forward–. Well, let me just say that it only takes 24 psi to break the tough guy’s elbow. Tomiki literature and sensei say that the pain from such a break is so horrific that the subduees usually end up crying, screaming, and barfing their guts out. (Sorry to be so graphic.) In my research, much of it furnished by my son, a Tomiki brown belt, I discovered that Tomiki combatants very often put down the taekwondo and karate guys.
So the descriptions of the movements are challenging to write. But they seem to work well.
Your post is a potent reminder that our senses can lead our hands to the keyboard. The observations during a brief walk, performing a chore or engaging with someone in conversation can become powerful words on the page. In those dry periods, even photographs in a book or a few lines of poetry can stimulate creativity and thought. The tension or harmony comes from where it fits in the flow of your work. Thank you.
A beautiful post, Barbara. I’ve always admired authors who have this knack for using “telling details”, those perfect moments that make us bond with the character. Now, thanks to your post, I realize I can train myself to do the same, by paying attention to I Second details. I hope it will inspire me to see the story in everyday events like waiting in line, or watching a light change, or picking peas.
Thank you.
Beautiful post, Barbara. As writers, it’s so important that we celebrate the tiny wonders and bring them to life in our own work – not only because it will help us hone our skill, but also because sometimes, readers need the reminder. There is so much inspiration around us, and it’s our job to find it and put it into words. I think that’s what makes the world a more luminous place.
Thanks for the great post! tweeted it. :D
I have been traveling a lot this summer, and while I might not have time to finish many writing projects, I’ve been writing down the things I observe. Especially, the ways people walk, facial expressions, and the ways cultures differ from my own.
“Ordinary life is where all the miracles are.” Thank you for this reminder, Barbara, and for the suggestions of techniques and a tool to notice and save them. I love this post. I love your examples of the hippie, the couple in the airport, the sage leaves. And I love your “In the Moment . . .” practice. You’ve given me new ideas for deepening my writing. Thank you.
Beautiful, Barbara. Thank you. My one minute this morning was to think of you in your garden, in absolute bliss. wonderful.
Dee Willson
Author of A Keeper’s Truth and GOT
In the video, how the green bush wavered its limbs as one creature yielding one pod. It’s happening all at once – nice post.
Bookmarking this post to read again. What insightfulness. There is such peace in mindfulness and when we can harness our wandering minds, our readers certainly benefit. I’m going to do my first tinyCoffee thing for you!
Coming late but I love the idea of this, Barbara. It’s like a short daily date with mindfulness.
In May, I jury-rigged a 5-year journal with 5 years of July 23rds visible on one medium-sized Moleskine journal. I use it to record that day’s crucial details. I’m curious to observe life’s rhythms and changes in miniature over a prolonged period. But I can see the appeal of a different medium for sure!
Well done! What a concise beautiful reminder of how the details tell the story. Thank you for sharing.
Love how you put this together. It’s the way my mind thinks, but this helps me be more deliberate about it! And the one-second video idea–brilliant–just brilliant!
Thank you so much for this. I am a fledgling novelist and have often wondered about what I consider the “fillers”. The details that make the reader “be there”. I have learned so much from this post and this website and will hopefully with all the knowledge I’ve gained here, I will one day be published. :)