Description

I have found that descriptions are all too often a cliche, especially when I begin working on a project. The bar is smoky, the shadowy figure lurks in the corner, He shook in his boots like a wet puppy dog. I do notice, however, that as I get into a project, my descriptive voice tends to reject the cliches more easily. This is a thing I need to practice.

My secondary project, Ghost Singer, arose in part from a descriptive exercise where I decided to describe a singer's voice 10 ways. It was actually one of 2 similar exercises, another one I spent time listening to one singer for a while, then trying to convert the feel of the voice to words on a page. This exercise however, was a series of metaphors and similes. Two in particular struck me as story worthy. See if you can find your own story in these descriptions...

1. His voice was like a fleece lined denim jacket flecked with lint, old and ratty, but full of warmth.
2. Her song rang through the convent courtyard, birds took to wing as the echoes startled them from their slumber.
3. He sang off key, like an old pickle, just a bit too sour.
4. She began so gently and melodiously that the forest stilled its own leaves so as to be able to hear each note as if it were the only one.
5. He rang the bell, then matched the tone with an ascending sequence of clear notes, held long past the point of breathlessness.
6. She held her hand over her mouth and sang quietly, afraid to be heard, even though her notes were balanced.
7. He finished with a bellow, the roar of an ox driven to pull a too heavy cart.
8. She held her note, wavering, siren like, until the last echo of the pipe organ drifted into the night, then collapsed her voice in a rasping gasp for air.
9. He raised his voice in a tinny falsetto, shrieking his words against the clatter of the bar. A single drunk raised one eyebrow in irritation at the harshness of the note.

10. Her dulcet tones echoed through the graveyard, wide and soft and bright, such that even the wraiths of the night came forth to listen in awe, through the song each ghostly spirit remembered a time before the pain and despair of their existance. When the song ended, they held the joy for a heartbeat, then the anger returned stronger with jealousy.

Numbers 4 and 10 interested me the most, and after working on them more, became the root of a character description, a protagonist whose voice could still a forest, or calm the walking dead. From there, I needed a plot, a source of the power of her voice, and a setting. So, Inn of the Stumbling Friar, are you ready for the ungrateful dead that rise from the past to haunt you?

Clear skies,
Jim