The White Room
March 28, 2021
"I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night, I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like."
– Taylor Swift (You Belong With Me)
How often when I'm writing do I skip straight to the action I want or the dialogue I'm excited about and forget that these characters occupy an environment? I create a White Room Syndrome for my audience, who I have not taken the courtesy to invite into the space.
It's easy for some writers to get caught in the trappings, just as it is for others to get caught up in the sheer momentum of the story. For those like me who tend to rush headlong into the thick of things, it's important to pause and remember that, although this world has been jostling around in my head, the reader needs a peek behind this curtain too.
Tell them what your character sees, tell them what he feels, if she's cold outside at night, or if he thinks the wallpaper is gaudy. You don't have to tell them all at once. I walk into a new room and hardly tend to notice more than the essential things that stand out to me. I have never walked into a new house and instantly noticed or was later able to recall what the trim looked like. But I gather enough information about my environment to ensure my safety, to navigate it, or to entertain my mind if there's something unusual or interesting about the space. My readers need a peek, maybe even if it's just enough to navigate the space so they're not tripping over sheer disorientation every chapter.
It's when the reader can picture a world, hear a world, even feel a world, that they itch to come back to it again.
March 28, 2021
"I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night, I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like."
– Taylor Swift (You Belong With Me)
How often when I'm writing do I skip straight to the action I want or the dialogue I'm excited about and forget that these characters occupy an environment? I create a White Room Syndrome for my audience, who I have not taken the courtesy to invite into the space.
It's easy for some writers to get caught in the trappings, just as it is for others to get caught up in the sheer momentum of the story. For those like me who tend to rush headlong into the thick of things, it's important to pause and remember that, although this world has been jostling around in my head, the reader needs a peek behind this curtain too.
Tell them what your character sees, tell them what he feels, if she's cold outside at night, or if he thinks the wallpaper is gaudy. You don't have to tell them all at once. I walk into a new room and hardly tend to notice more than the essential things that stand out to me. I have never walked into a new house and instantly noticed or was later able to recall what the trim looked like. But I gather enough information about my environment to ensure my safety, to navigate it, or to entertain my mind if there's something unusual or interesting about the space. My readers need a peek, maybe even if it's just enough to navigate the space so they're not tripping over sheer disorientation every chapter.
It's when the reader can picture a world, hear a world, even feel a world, that they itch to come back to it again.