When you're writing a novel or short story, always keep in mind your five senses: smell, sight, hearing, taste, and touch. Your character, unless blind or deaf, has these senses and how you use them makes a huge difference in whether you have a bland story or one that makes your readers feel like they are with the characters in another city or world. Visualization is key. You want color and texture.
For me, the story plays out in my head as if I am watching a movie. I see everything. I feel like I am in the background listening to their conversations. I eavesdrop and quickly write down what is going on. Later, when I am revising, the places come alive in my mind again. Only now that I have down the initial story can I take my time to flesh it out more.
Devils' Den is my novel about a teenage boy (Justin McKnight) who gets lost in a haunted cave (Devils' Den) and finds himself in another realm. It's a world of elves, dwarves, fairies, and an evil wizard that wants to take over the Underworld. Here's an excerpt:
---The air inside Devils’ Den was damp and
cool. The wet cave walls glistened. Water dripped into small blackish pools along
the edge of the pathway.
Justin’s light dimmed, brightened,
dimmed, as he walked deeper into the cave.
He tapped the back of the light several times. He assumed the light suffered more from a bad
connection than dying batteries because the batteries were new. The flashlight flickered but his burning
curiosity lured him deeper into the cave.
He no longer looked for the bullfrog. The amphibian should have become too sluggish
to travel this deep into the cave. It had
probably squeezed into a hole that he had stepped over without noticing. On his way out, he’d look among the wet rocks and
crevices for it.
The flashlight dimmed. Justin slapped the end harder than
before. The light’s intensity increased
several seconds before fading again. He
decided to turn back and get the larger flashlight. He didn’t understand why his grandfather had
dramatically exaggerated about the cave.
Nothing he’d seen so far had proven to be dangerous. The snake at the pond had scared him worse
than the cave.
The path’s gradient grew steeper with
each step he took, but he had not come down a descending slope. The path had been level without any deviation
and now it was strangely different. The
wall formations didn’t look familiar, either.
He wished he had marked the walls with a piece of limestone to guide him
back to the entranceway. The glow of the
flashlight didn’t reveal any scuffed footprints left by his tennis shoes.
A cold, howling breeze flowed from the
cave depths. It brushed past, chilling
him. His short sleeve shirt wasn’t
enough to keep him warm.
Justin wondered how deep into the cave
he had walked. No outside light filtered
in. He was certain he hadn’t traveled more
than twenty yards. Turning off the flashlight,
he stood in pitch-blackness. Now the
darkness frightened him. Without the
assurance of a quick exit from the cave, he feared he was lost. He turned the light back on and hurried up
the path.
Tears of desperation heated his eyes
when he came to a crossroad of intersecting paths he hadn’t passed earlier. He was lost.
He didn’t know which path to take. If he chose the wrong direction, he’d wander
in complete darkness after the flashlight eventually stopped working.
The wind swirled and moaned. Drifting in the air was the soft whispering,
anguished cries of tortured souls. Their
pain-filled chorus was faint and in languages unfamiliar to him.
Justin shone the flashlight down each
tunnel. Shadows slinked deeper out of
the light’s reach. He wanted to believe
the flickering light played tricks with the darkness, but he remembered the
drawing, the solemn threat, and that the tree he had drawn towered outside the
cave. He no longer felt alone. Something else lurked inside the dark
tunnels.
The frigid air hung still, silent. Fog escaped his mouth as he contemplated
which direction to take. He chose the
path straight ahead and hoped he found the entrance before darkness swallowed
him.
The path descended, narrowed, and
turned sharp to the right. The tight
crevice required him to squeeze and contort his body. Midway through the turn, he was wedged and
unable to move. He sucked in a deep
breath and bent slightly back, freeing himself.---
There's a lot of description based on Justin's five senses, which adds texture and enlivens the cave's environment and Justin's emotions.
I hope this is a tip that will help you while writing your novel.
Best,
Leonard D. Hilley II
Devils' Den Currently $0.99 on Amazon Kindle
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