Pumpkin spice everything, leaves, Halloween candy, and the cozy clothes we all packed away in the spring. Except for you Florida folks as you have neither spring nor fall. The time of year when we all pick up a few pounds because the food is so good and so plentiful at the same time the weather becomes less friendly. It's so much easier to curl up on the couch.
So I took my dog for an extra long walk the last few days. We went a few blocks farther, exploring new streets. B loves it. SO many new smells, new neighborhood dogs, new squirrels, new places bunnies might hide. I also like exploring new places and feeling less guilty about the cookies I had instead of a real breakfast. (They were freshly baked and warm and hey - am I made of stone? Clearly not.)
Earlier this year, I spent a semester working with the wonderful Jennifer Vanderbes. She encouraged the use of particular details to tie a scene to reality for the reader. A color or some other sensory image that gives the reader enough to fill in their own imagination around it without doubting the scene's authenticity. For me, the sensory detail isn't the beautiful colors, although they are breathtaking. I've included some images so my Florida friends can follow along since this is completely foreign.
Right? So this is breathtaking and all, but it's not my detail of choice. This weekend, my neighbors were out in their yards raking leaves, mulching, getting in one last lawn mow, and edging before winter comes. (I really need to do all that stuff too, better get on that) Anyway, one of my favorite smells is freshly cut grass. The grass here and the soil it grows in smell completely different from anywhere else I've lived. There's the damp earth, with a little clay, and the wild onions that permeate the lawn. I am reminded of my childhood years here, of basements and their exterior access steps with iron railings, of brick houses, of Japanese maples, of flagstone patios, and of my grandparents.
It's distinct and rich and immediate.
Florida grass is completely different, although also pleasant. The grass is often the very coarse St. Augustine, springy and dense, and excellent cover for ants. It surrounds the swimming pools of my youth and brings to mind summer (nine months of the year), the smell of chlorine, the breezes on screened porches, and citrus and pine trees.
North Carolina has rich red clay, the smell of Lake Gaston which is always mixed with a bit of boat engine exhaust (not as unpleasant as it might seem, it reminds of summers water skiing, and lazy afternoons sipping wine on the pontoon boat in a slow tour of the lake), horseshoe pits, and barbecue chicken, ever so slightly overcooked.
Back to Maryland. At the first hint of chilly weather, the scent of wood burning fireplaces joins the symphony of outdoor aromas. Cinnamon brooms and pine cones decorate, apple and cranberry candles burn, my neighbors and I bake as it is now cool enough to justify the oven time, and we are just breaths from the scent of Christmas trees.
So as I wrap up the final chapters of my WIP knowing that I will just start again at the beginning to refine, solidify, rearrange, and complete with those sensory details, I think about which details bring my own world to life so that I can gift that same richness to my characters.
May your holiday season be full of rich, sensory details of your own. May you be able to transport back to this season with warm, nostalgic feelings tied to tastes sweet and savory, delicious aromas, the textures worn, the beautiful leaves and seasonal decorations, and the sounds of close friends and family unique to your experience.
Happy Holidays!
