Experimenting with your characters’ senses

This entry is part 9 of 10 in the series Writing the senses

In my freshman writing class (I think), we read this really amazing autobiography by a man who began a French Resistance group as a teenager in WWII. After a few years, the Gestapo found him and he was sent to a concentration camp for nearly two years. But his story was more than just a story of survival—he was unique not because he survived, but how.

The how is kind of hard to explain, but the basic reason was because saw a type of “light” within his mind that allowed him to discern about people and situations. If he heeded the guidance from that divine light, he was always able to find a way through difficult times.

And the biggest reason he was able to be in tune with this light? He was blind. Being blind also helped him to develop his other senses to compensate, so his hearing was sharper than others’, etc.

Our characters’ senses can be their strengths—but they can also be their crutches (or ours!). Especially when we’re trying to focus on non-dominant senses (i.e. taste, smell and touch), one way to bring these senses out is to deprive our character of other senses in the long term or short term.

You might try this as just a writing exercise, or as a scene to use, but here are just a few reasons a character might lose a sense for a time:

  • It’s dark.
  • He’s blindfolded.
  • Close-range loud noise (gunshot, anyone?)
  • She has a cold. (That can affect smell, taste and hearing. Oh the joys.)
  • Medical procedure, such as eye surgery.
  • She’s wearing hearing protection, ear plugs or even earmuffs.
  • Shock.
  • He lost his glasses or contacts. (I’d be legally blind without mine.)

You can rewrite an old scene or create a new one where your character doesn’t have access to the full range of senses. If you deprive your character of a dominant sense (sight or hearing), how will her other senses compensate? Does she listen for his tone more carefully or is he especially attuned to the scent of her perfume?

This is an idea I had while writing this series, but it’s not something I’ve had time to try yet. So if you’re up for it, let us know how it goes!

What do you think? How else would senses compensate for a lots one? How might a character temporarily lose one or more senses?

Photo by Mirko Tobias Schaefer

How to dress your story with style

This entry is part 10 of 10 in the series Writing the senses

by M. Deane

There is one more element to writing with a story with all five senses—style. Years ago, I discovered this hidden element when I took a second job as a dog trainer. My mentor insisted I read books about how humans learn so I could have a better understanding of how to reach our students. What I found out was fascinating—there are three very distinct learning styles.

First, there is the visual learner. Most people are visual learners; these people think in pictures, love lectures where there are diagrams and slides, and usually sit towards the front so they can get an unobstructed view.

Next up is the auditory learner. These are the people who learn through hearing; they like to read aloud or listen to books on tape, and often have to talk through things to grasp a concept.

The last is the kinaesthetic (or tactile) learner. These are the people who learn through touch and movement; they take a hands-on approach to understand what they are learning, and can usually be found fidgeting or doodling during lectures and meetings.

What does this have to do with writing?

Well, there is a two-fold answer to that. Most writers tend to describe things in their own learning style. This can be both a strength—and a weakness. I am a kinaesthetic learner, so I love to throw in action and tactile words. I have no problem describing a couple getting up in the morning, having a conversation while they go through the mundane tasks of brushing their teeth and getting dressed and making the bed. On the other hand, I generally fail to describe visual and auditory cues, such as facial expressions and sounds. I learned this lesson the hard way when I finished a book and then realized I had never once described the color of the truck the main character drove!

The second part of the answer is that writers generally create characters who all share the same learning style. Once I discovered learning styles, I realized that this is another way I can break out of my own viewpoint, and create more depth. Perhaps I am writing a story where I will be exploring the same scene from several points of view. One subtle way to make those viewpoints distinct is to give the characters in the scene distinct learning styles. Perhaps one character walks in, looks around with his hands in his pockets, and immediately notices the unusual burn marks on the wall. The other character, though, puts on gloves and kneels, and begins to examine the remains in the middle of the room.

What is your learning style? Do you think there might be an element missing in your writing because you lean towards your learning style?

Learn more about learning styles

About the author
M. Deane started writing the minute her first grade teacher pressed a pencil in her hands. She currently lives in Central Texas, and works in the IT field. Poetry is her true love, but her muse keeps insisting on making strange forays into fiction. She keeps an online journal, including some writing samples, at http://calamitycrow.dreamwidth.org/.

Photo by djneight