And why it’s important
The critics said this about my books
“Pleasingly descriptive.” – The BookLife Prize
“Beautifully immersive descriptions.” – Literary Titan
“Vividly painted settings.” – Literary Titan
“[Hagan] has a gift for making ordinary situations—ones as simple as a rock-hunting trip through the woods—seem strange and wondrous.” – The BookLife Prize
“The disturbing narrative’s great strength is in its descriptions of the frequent personal slights and off-the-cuff remarks from family members, friends, and strangers that create an exhausting unease and a permeating, underlying fear.” Kirkus Review
I might have been a strange kid
It was normal for me
Like many, I had a difficult childhood. I was neglected by an alcoholic mother and raised by my sister who was 9 when I was born. My dad was strictly traditional — he brought home the bacon and didn’t have much to do with childrearing. When I was 8, my sister left home to go to college. Then I raised my youngest brother, making sure he got up and got dressed to go to school each day, because my older brothers were already out of the house early to catch buses to middle school and high school. My upbringing made me hyper-vigilant and aware of my surroundings. I was a child with childlike sensibilities who was making decisions that normally would be made by a parent. I inherently knew that left me vulnerable. I didn’t have control, or means, or authority. I became an astute observer: of my surroundings and of people, in order to monitor how safe I was.
Learn to be an observer of your surroundings and of people
You don’t have to have lived my childhood to learn how to be observant. Go sit somewhere and take in your surroundings. Yesterday, I went with my husband out on the lake. He fishes for bass, and I take pictures. But I also observe: how the wind moves the leaves in the trees; how the sun plays on the surface of the water; how the cormorants disappear under the water and pop up someplace else; what the expressions on the turtles faces look like as they sun on logs. I do the same thing at the mall, in restaurants, wherever I go. Take in the details. What are people wearing? What are their expressions? How are they walking? What are they carrying? What are they doing? Talking? Scrolling on cell phones? Zoned out?
Look at the photo of the spider web and list as many details as you can.
Learn to listen
Fishing is a sport of patience. Some people cast and leave the lure in the water and wait for a bite. Ronald is a more active fisherman. He casts and works the bait through the water, making it swim like it’s alive. But you still need to be patient. Although, if you happen upon a hungry fish, you’ll get a bite as soon as your bait hits the water. You may cast hundreds of times a day and only catch a couple of fish. Sometimes we talk about things, like our childhoods. We relive what cartoons we liked, or what cookies our mothers bought– the cheap Hydrox because they knew all those kids (we both came from families with five kids) would only eat them when desperate and they’d probably last the week. Yesterday, we talked about what alcohol of choice our mothers liked. Yes, we’ve had these same conversations before. We know each other’s childhoods so well, we might have been the sixth child no one talked about. His mother liked Harvey’s Bristol Cream. Mine liked Genesee beer.
Then, there are the quiet times on the boat, and that’s when I listen. To the wind; the water slapping the side of the boat; the chatter of the crows; the cranky heron who lost his fishing spot because we got too close; the hungry osprey chicks hoping mom or dad will bring back some food to the nest. I listen everywhere I go. I love listening in restaurants. What does people’s laughter sound like? What is driving the ambient noise? Is it conversation? Clattering dishes? Music? Air conditioning? What are the conversations about? What emotions are being expressed?
Even if you are just sitting at home, take a moment and listen. What do you hear?
Learn to smell
I’m sensitive to smells. Someone decided to go an extra day or two without washing their hair? I’ll know it. Smoked before you came inside? I’ll know that, too. Cleaned your bathroom two days ago? I can still smell the chemicals. Ordered seafood three tables over from where we’re sitting? I smell ya.
You don’t have to become as hypersensitive as I am. It can be a pain. But learn to identify smells. The next time you eat out, see if you can figure out what you smell. What do you smell in the doctor’s office? In the grocery store? At the bowling lanes? Learn to identify it.
Learn to feel
We touch a thousand things a day. Keyboards; phones; towels; steering wheels; door handles; other people’s hands, and more. Unless you are holding a new born baby, or petting a kitten, you probably don’t even think about how something feels. Take a handshake, for example. How does the other person’s hand feel? Is it a strong shake? A touch and pull away? Is their hand soft or rough? Did your hand feel swallowed up by the other hand, or did your hand swallow the other? How about your steering wheel? Or your keyboard? You get the idea. Take some time and think about how things feel.
Learn to taste
I’m sorry American diets have become a wasteland of sugar and salt and quantity over quality. The fine art of tasting and enjoying what we eat has gone by the wayside for the majority of Americans. But all is not lost. You can still learn to taste. Eat a peach. Or a cherry. Drink a glass of fine wine (not the cheap stuff). Then savor the flavor. I promise. It’s a little taste of heaven just waiting for you.
Now what?
Now you’re going to write about it
Start writing. Use a notebook, or create a file for each sense, and write down everything you experienced. Find the words to describe it. And don’t use AI! I call this verbal puking. You are going to write as many words and phrases as pop into your head. The good ones, the rotten ones, the imperfect ones, and the ones that seem to sing. And there will be a few of those in the mix. The more you do this, the better you’ll get at it. You have to train your senses to be aware. And then you have to train yourself to express what you experienced.
You’ll keep getting better
At first, you might struggle to find the right words to describe something. Then, you may overdo it and write a manifesto. You don’t have to use all five senses in every description. But you’ll get better, I promise, at knowing which ones are effective in conveying a given scene. It takes work, but the outcome is writing that draws the reader in and places them inside the story. It’s cinematic and immersive. It’ll make your writing better.
And that’s why it’s important
Your readers’ experiences will be heightened in ways they didn’t expect, and it makes the journey all the more enjoyable. And isn’t that the reason we share our stories?
An excerpt from Creature of Secret Sorrows
Junee and Wilson walked through the family graveyard, carefully stepping around the headstones that seemed all too close to one another. Wildflowers still bloomed, despite the chilly weather. A massive oak tree towered above the headstones, its roots heaving up some of them.
“Out in the cuts,” Junee said, swinging her arms, elation in her voice. She took a deep breath and blew it out. “I love it out here. This is where you become one with nature.”
Wilson inhaled crisp air that carried the aroma of fallen leaves and the promise of renewal after a long, cold sleep. “I agree with that,” he said. He wove a zigzagged path around the small, hand-carved headstones that languished in the encroaching soil, as if the earth were slowly ingesting them.
Junee stopped and smiled at him. “Except for the temperature, this feels like home. We have a family cemetery, too. And it’s older than this one.” She hummed a gospel tune.
Her resonant voice washed over Wilson, leaving him with a rare feeling of contentment. “Was everyone as tiny as Althea?” he asked a few minutes later, half joking.
“They’s buried close to keep each other company until Judgment Day.” Junee urged Wilson to keep moving. “We got a ways to go, now. Vini.”
“It’s awfully quiet out here,” Wilson lamented. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but something was off. The clouds skittered across the sun, then blocked it completely. The air got thick, and Wilson felt his lungs laboring. He smelled musk and earth and decay. He slowed to a stop.
Take a moment to think about what senses that excerpt evoked to set the scene
Now it’s your turn to set a scene. Do the exercises above. Then, start writing!
Creature of Secret Sorrows Kindle edition on sale October 1 – 8 for $2.99!
If the above scene piqued your interest, Creature of Secret Sorrows is going on sale on Amazon just in time for All Hallows’ Eve! Be prepared to be scared!
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