My students are struggling to write effective detailed descriptions so I’ve been tirelessly creating examples that illustrate how to move from generic, nonspecific to specific, vivid details. They just aren’t getting it. I feel like giving up, but the rest of the course is built on this one basic skill. Advice? Can I do more than this?
They write: She was wearing jeans.
I write: She wore jeans so tight they seemed painted on. The dark wash denim was worn and faded at the knees but not quite threadbare. Bright gold stitching across the back pockets called out, “Look at me! Look at me!” People did look, but they weren’t admiring her pockets. The grip of the fabric started to give way at her knees, and the slightly flared bottoms seemed to add a few inches to her 5’3” frame. The bottoms, having scuffed the ground on one too many outings, were beginning to fray and unravel.
They write: The trees were bare.
I write: Autumn had robbed the majestic oak of its foliage, and its naked limbs pierced the gray winter sky. With its bark exposed, every scar was visible—piercings from a woodpecker’s beak, scratches made by unrecognizable claws, and the initials of young lovers carved inside a lopsided heart. The bark was peeling away from the tops of the lower branches where children’s feet had taken their toll on more than one excursion up into its secret heights.
They write: Adrian was a cute black boy with no facial hair. His skin was so soft that I wanted to kiss his cheek.
I write: Adrian’s skin was dark—not ebony like a native Nigerian but a rich, creamy brown like warm milk chocolate. There was a boyishness in his face that was uncharacteristically inviting. Freshly shaven, his cheeks appeared baby soft, inviting the caress of a hand, a grandmotherly pinch, or an innocent kiss.
