Whole Body Immersion

You know that feeling of being so deeply immersed in a story that when you look up from the page, you feel like you’re underwater? Yeah, that’s a good feeling. But how does it happen? In my experience, one of the best ways to fully engage your reader’s body, mind, and soul is to use sensory imagery.

Of course, you say. Everyone and their English teacher knows that. 

I suppose you’re right, but one amazing way of taking that advice just one step further is to focus specifically on the senses of taste and smell.

Take a deep breath through your nose, and notice the scents around you right now!

Take a deep breath through your nose, and notice the scents around you right now!

Whether you get a whiff of a crayon box that transports you back to Wednesdays in first grade or sink your teeth into a sun-ripened peach, these two senses are incredibly powerful when considering memory and the full body experience. These senses are also the ones I seem to have the most trouble remembering to include in my own work, opting exclusively for in-depth visual descriptions and auditory imagery if I’m not vigilant.

To pull myself (and maybe you!) out of this habit, I put together a few writing exercises to help us explore the scents and tastes of our scenes, whether incorporated into a WIP or fresh from the brain pan.

  1. Think of yourself or an original character in the middle of an ancient forest. Perhaps tree roots entangle themselves into intricate mazes, or maybe glowing eyes watch from the darkness. As your character walks between towering tree trunks, their footsteps silenced by a thick carpet of dead leaves, what do they smell? The fresh scent of pine needles? The musk of animal fur? The stench of their own body after wandering for days on end? Record their observations here, and take stock of what details strange scents may unleash. Write for four minutes.

  2. For this one, we’re going to think about taste in an unusual situation, and I invite you to build a scene around it. Consider a place with a particularly strong scent, perhaps a perfumery or an underground sewer. In places like these, the smells that surround us are so powerful that they often seem to invade our bodies and coat our tongues, catching in the backs of our throats for entirely too long. Instead of focusing on smell in this scene, concentrate on taste and on your character’s bodily interaction with the oppressive flavor of your choice. Write for ten minutes.

  3. As a palate-cleanser *wink,* picture yourself or an original character sitting down to your/their favorite meal. Here, you can explore the way smell and taste work with each other, sometimes agreeing and sometimes conflicting. Anyone who was tricked into swallowing a spoonful of vanilla extract as a child knows what I’m talking about. Feel free to weave other sensory imagery into this scene like the clinking of glasses, the texture of a tablecloth, or the colors refracting through a crystal chandelier, BUT always bring it back to taste and smell. Write for eight minutes.

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KAY TEEKELL is Claire’s Summer Communications Associate and fellow creative writer. She has five years of writing and editing experience that ranges from content writing for blogs and magazines to grant writing for nonprofit organizations. Kay is passionate about the power of storytelling and strives to amplify voices that might otherwise be forgotten. She is excited to use her artistic and literary skills in her professional aspirations and will continue to develop her talents for the rest of her life.

Back to Our Storytelling Roots

While TAing the most recent Write NOW event, I had a blast talking about the way characters from our favorite TV shows and films (and even our favorite music albums!) can teach us to create dynamic and beautiful characters of our own.

What is it that strikes us about a particular character that doesn’t let go until our ears ring? Is it the unique backstory? The emotional evolution?

Maybe it’s the highly-specific quirk that makes us feel both called-out and seen.

Remember the stories that first inspired you to create!

Remember the stories that first inspired you to create!

If one of your own characters is struggling to come to life, it can be useful to consider why you’re drawn to other characters and fictional universes. If you notice something you love is missing in your own work, see if including it helps spark an evolution that truly makes your character sing! 

To get started, here are a few prompts to help you explore what makes those characters so addicting.

  1. For many of us, our writing journeys began when we imitated the writers we admired, maaaaaybe even by writing the occasional page of fanfiction. This is an invitation to delve back into that sweet comfort and imagine yourself, someone from your WIP, or a completely new character interacting with one of the beloved fictional characters who impacted you growing up. Consider the children’s books that shaped you, the cartoons that captured your eyes on Saturday mornings, or the comic books you traced while zoning out during class. Write for six minutes.

  2. If choosing a particular character isn’t your style (or if you want some more of that sweet-sweet comfort writing), think of your favorite fictional universe. Are you in a haunted mansion? A wizarding school? A fairy-filled glen? Wherever you are, place yourself or your character into that setting, and see what happens! Write for seven minutes.

  3. Now, a memory exercise with no consequences (the best kind, amiright?). Think of an influential scene in a book, film, or TV show that has stuck with you, for better or for worse. What can you taste? Do you smell fresh rain, unwashed bodies, or the mouth-watering scent of fire-roasted lamb? What can you hear? Now, while it’s fresh, write it down. NO CHEATING to look up the scene before you write, and if you wander from the original, who’s going to know? Write for five minutes.

  4. For the meta-minded among us, consider a favorite fictional character, either your own or one borrowed from another creator. What would they do if they realized they were a character in a story? Would they fight to break free or work to follow the plot? Perhaps they would rally the other characters into a boycott or use this knowledge to subvert their enemies. Write for seven minutes.

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How did it go? Did you dig it? Subscribe to The Fool & the Page for more guided writing and cosmic conversation.

KAY TEEKELL is Claire’s Summer Communications Associate and fellow creative writer. She has five years of writing and editing experience that ranges from content writing for blogs and magazines to grant writing for nonprofit organizations. Kay is passionate about the power of storytelling and strives to amplify voices that might otherwise be forgotten. She is excited to use her artistic and literary skills in her professional aspirations and will continue to develop her talents for the rest of her life.

Coming Home

In my conversation with friend and fellow writer Marilyse V. Figueroa, we really got into this question of timeless characters—the ones who won’t leave us. And why should they? HA!

Sometimes we stick with characters because they feel timely for the world, and sometimes we stick with characters because they are timely for us.

Either way, it’s helpful to imagine the concept of home for these folks.

What is our character coming home to?

What is our character coming home to?

We should always be posing the question: What does my character want? But sometimes it’s useful to pose something even more specific.

The question of home for our characters can be a crucial element to their transformation. What are the little homes that anchor them throughout their journey? And is there an eventual spot, perhaps at the bend in the river, where they want to hang their hat?

You can apply these prompts to a brand new character, a character from your WIP, or yourself!

Guided Writing Inspired by Ten of Cups

  1. Imagine the perfect house—YEP—either for you or a character you’re working on. What does that mean to you or them? What does the notion of a perfect home look like? How many windows and doors? Are there any windows and doors? Imagine this home using all the senses. Explore every little nook and cranny. Where does it live and what does it contain? What does it feel like to sit down inside this place? How does it sound? Write for seven minutes.

  2. Now, consider your life as it is in this present reality (or your character’s). What are the little homes that live in your (or their) world? What are the daily cottages at the bend in the river? What are you always coming home to—whether it's an idea, a person, a passion, or a place? Keep in mind that if you want to use these prompts for your WIP, you can pose these questions to a character, especially one you want to get to know a little better. Write for seven minutes.

  3. Imagine yourself—or your character—building the ultimate maypole, whatever that means. The point is to create something that celebrates a season of returning to warmth, or growth, or waking up. It’s a physical structure to celebrate having made it through a winter of some kind. How and where do you build this, and what do the pieces look like? Tell the page everything about this process, and who’s involved. And try and lead up to the moment when you sit back and observe it and really pause and drink it all in. Write for 12 minutes.

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Challenging our Characters to Tell the Truth

In this recent Fool & the Page interview with author Carolyn Cohagan, we chatted about her new novel Ida and the Unfinished City, how Carolyn creates both thorny characters and spooky creatures, how she’s learned to come home to the power of telling her own story, and much, much more—plus, we pulled King of Swords as an ally and creative guide.

This card invites you to consider: What is my unique power as a storyteller? As a truth teller?

Oh, and how can I sink into that power, as opposed to questioning it? How can I write boldly and bravely?

Challenge a character who thinks they know everything and encourage them to tell the truth!

Challenge a character who thinks they know everything and encourage them to tell the truth!

It’s fun to rethink our way into story alongside an overly confident character. Even the strongest characters falter—and they have to! Otherwise, we wouldn’t be so interested in them.

Even the characters we know so well can struggle to see things clearly—a notion that inspired Carolyn and I to create the prompts below. Writing these characters’ journeys into truth can teach us a lot about the story as a whole, and maybe even something about ourselves as creatives, as storytellers, and truth tellers.

  1. Imagine a character—from your work-in-progress, or someone who wanders into your head right now—who is a know-it-all. Think self-assured, confident, unafraid.

  2. Tell us everything about how they look, dress, move. How do they smell? How do they speak? Give us the details. Write for eight minutes.

  3. Now present that character with something totally unexpected—it could be scary (a house everyone claims is haunted), or challenging (a confrontation with another character), or surprising (maybe something isn’t quite as they thought it was), and they have to DEAL. Write a scene in which they're forced to confront this unexpected happening and navigate that weirdness. How does their arrogance get in the way? Write for nine minutes. 

  4. How does that character find a way to tell the truth after this whole experience? How do they communicate to the world—and that includes themselves—that they've learned something? Or accepted something? Or learned to face themselves? Write a scene in which this character owns up to the truth, letting this character lead you down whatever winding path comes with it. Write for eight minutes.

  5. Take a deep breath. Sit up tall. Stretch your arms to the sky. Thank yourself for taking the time out to write and reflect!

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Traveling in Darkness

In this recent episode of The Fool & the Page, I pulled The Moon in response to a listener request from fellow writer and fabric artist Casey Bernard. Thanks, Casey!

The Moon begs the question: How can you move through darkness with grace and ease? How can you stay there?

And in my experience, it’s also asking…How can you lean into your weird?

Sometimes a formless phase can be freeing!

Sometimes a formless phase can be freeing!

In the Pagan Otherworlds illustration highlighted here, we see the wild and the tamed sides of the mind embodied in the dog and the wolf, howling or gazing up at a somewhat disinterested (or loving?) Moon.

The prompts here are inspired by the idea that sometimes our stories feel too big and wild for us, but that’s okay.

  1. When have you (or your character) been in a formless phase, when you didn’t know what would happen? If you could describe this phase as an actual place, what would it look and feel like? Write for eight minutes.

  2. What about your current project gives you pause because it doesn’t make sense right now? Are there many things? Jot down the words or phrases that represent these things, so it could be: main character’s relationship with mother, OR my inability to write anything about such-and-such, OR my reluctance to sit down with my loom these days, I mean, it could be anything. Write for eight minutes, eventually focusing in on one element that is formless or dark or weird and just spend some time with that character or problem, letting them speak to you and letting yourself sink into the unknown of that.

  3. What sources of light do you or your character have in your world that illuminate the path for you? These could be physical things or other characters/people or places. Jot down a list of three potential sources of light and then CHOOSE ONE to sink into and explore, and write for nine minutes, telling the page everything you can about that one, sweet source of light.

  4. Take a deep breath. NICE. Thank yourself for taking the time out to write and reflect!

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Pausing Under the Archway

In this recent episode of The Fool & the Page, I pulled Ten of Pentacles in response to the question: What is here for the writing in transition?

So what does a card that’s all about stability—a culmination of great effort, a harvest of sorts—have to say about transformation or transition?

Lots.

Your work now, and how you evolve it, is a culmination of all the energy, effort, and experimentation you’ve put into your writing so far.

Your work now, and how you evolve it, is a culmination of all the energy, effort, and experimentation you’ve put into your writing so far.

In the Aquarian deck illustration highlighted here, we see a family looking out at a castle. I like how they’re pausing on their way, stopping beneath this archway to view this beautiful thing from afar.

The prompts here are inspired by that idea of mindful arrival. Enjoy!

  1. How do you, or your character, best love to celebrate? Is it on your own, heading out on a beautiful hike, is it in a group of people at a loud, raucous gathering? (This is some wild imagining here, not suggesting that you hang out in a group of people anytime soon, but we can imagine it!) This is a great prompt for fictional characters, because you can really let your character speak, and it’s fun for self-reflection, too. Describe your ultimate celebration, down to the smallest details—what are you wearing, what is the air like? Is their music? Quiet? Conversation? Write for eight minutes.

  2. Imagine that you or your character pauses beneath an archway. Focus on the archway first. What is is made of? What is it like to touch it? How does the air feel in this space between things, on the cusp of something? Write for eight minutes. 

  1. Now look beyond the archway, either from your POV or your character’s. What is in the distance? Is it an object? A structure? A landscape? Describe how it looks to view it from this high point. How do you or the character relate to what you see? What makes you nervous? What do you hope for? Write for nine minutes.

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Let the Character Pause and Breathe In Deep

Let the character pause and ponder, as you pause and ponder.

Let the character pause and ponder, as you pause and ponder.

In my latest Fool & the Page interview, I had the privilege of speaking with Trista Edwards of Marvel + Moon. We talked about her brand new book of poetry SPECTRAL EVIDENCE, the importance of ritual baths for water signs—and every sign, I guess—the concept of hearth craft, anxiety about beginning and completing projects, creating magic in a chaotic home, new scents that will transport you to a witch’s autumn kitchen, and how to shift your physical space into a creative sanctum by striking a match and lighting a candle.

Trista’s life and work are both so passionately and beautifully about celebrating the things we love—material things we love, natural things we love—and yet we both came round to this idea (through pulling Eight of Swords), that it’s necessary sometimes to shove these things aside. You have to clear yourself a space to create, and make room for your ideas, and find balance. And that is a choice.

It means defining your boundaries, owning your own story, and making your own light.

So here are the prompts we came up with to reflect both Trista’s power with creating magical scents as well as the need to pause and ponder.

  1. FIRST, do a sensory check of your space. Pay attention to your immediate surroundings. What is there to smell, touch, feel, taste, and hear? Pay attention to the smell and the feel of the air around you. Look for objects with texture. Imagine how it might feel to pick them up, and jot down your first thoughts. Write for four minutes.

  2. SECOND, post a wild and wonderful question to your character. This can be someone you’ve just dreamed up, or someone in-progress. What does the moon smell like? Have your character respond in their voice, writing for six minutes.

  3. NOW, give your character the moment to ponder something strange (in addition to the smell of the moon, yes). This moment does not have to move the plot forward. It does not have to include an encounter of any kind. It is simply a time to let your character pause and consider something. To daydream. Write for seven minutes.

  4. Lastly, respond to the question: What is controlling your character and what do they need to let go in order to move forward? As always, this question can be used for self-reflection. You can insert yourself into the space of the character and use this time to consider the things that may be holding you back. Write for eight minutes.

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ICYMI: Write This—Images + Prompt

Write this. Take eight minutes to write what you see. Simple as that. Double the time if you like.

Write this. Take eight minutes to write what you see. Simple as that. Double the time if you like.

Images are great story-starters, but sometimes it’s hard to get as excited about a photograph you find for yourself, or one you know really well. When it’s expected or familiar, it loses some of that luster for the writing prompt.

One of the ways you can harness the possibility of potential luster/fun/intrigue/wonder in photographs-for-writing is to simply swap images with friends. Agree on a date/time to email your writing partner with an image for writing.

The surprise factor can make all the difference.

So here’s an image for every day of the coming week.

(Or one image for every couple days, or once a week—whatever you have time for).

For each image, open it up and study it for a couple minutes. Then write what you see and feel in this image.

  • Let this image guide you in the writing for eight minutes. You may come up with a character who isn’t pictured; you may focus on the place itself.

  • If you have more time than eight minutes, great. Double it. Triple it.

  • Schedule an image per day to make the most of your daily writing time (ten minutes, twenty minutes, whatever).

  • Tell me about it on Twitter or Instagram. I’d love to hear how it goes!

BONUS

  • Keep it going! Agree to swap images with a friend once a week to fuel your writing time.

New Old Words

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I’d been looking for this book for ages. In our move this spring, it got nestled into a box of breakables and left in the garage until my husband cleared out the last of the packing supplies. The Beginning Place is one of my favorite novels, if not my most favorite novel. Doesn’t the cover look so unapologetically FANTASY it breaks your heart?

A while ago—in 2009—I got to hear Ursula K. Le Guin speak at the 92nd Street Y in conversation with Alan Lightman. They talked about how dreams shift and change depending on your writing process; they talked about blurring the genre lines, and how genres are basically useless outside industry speak. I stood in a long line to get my book signed. UKLG was chatty and kind to everyone, but when she mentioned how “well-loved” my book looked, I just blushed and laughed nervously and muttered something that might have been “thanks,” but I’m not sure. Oh, well. My failure to charm her at a 30-second signing doesn’t impact my love of her work and her incredible writer brain.

I’ve shared the last line of this novel with lots of folks, so bless you, dear hearts, if you’ve heard it before. Here it is again. I love it so.

There is more than one road to the city.

Now that’s a good last line.

I’m thinking for this writing prompt, let’s celebrate our favorite lines in literature, even if we haven’t seen them in a while.

  • Find your favorite book (don’t worry; the others won’t get jealous!). It doesn’t have to be your favorite one for all time, but pick a favorite for now. See the BONUS section post-prompt to use more than one.

  • Read the first line, even if it’s very brief, like dialogue. Even if it’s a single word. Meditate on that line for a moment. Why is it powerful? What does it say about what’s to come? Jot down your ideas for two minutes.

  • Now head to the last line of the book and do the same.

  • Now make a mash-up: Combine the two lines by 1) taking the first half of one and combining it with the latter half of the second, or 2) starting with whatever word you wish and tacking on a phrase from the other line. Do whatever you like! Take only two minutes to do this and then commit to your mash-up.

    • The first line of The Beginning Place is dialogue: “Checker on seven!”

    • So I could come up with…There are seven roads to the city. Or…There is more than one checker…or…One road to the city on seven.

  • Use your mash-up line as the first line in a scene—you can create new characters, or work with characters from your work-in-progress (and even memoir subjects). Write for 6 minutes, letting the first line guide you forward.

  • Now create a new mash-up line and try a new scene—or continue what you’ve been working on so far. Write for 6 minutes, letting this new mash-up line be your jumping off point.

  • Look back at both scenes and choose a leading emotion in either piece (pick the emotion that really rings out, echoes, vibrates).

    • Does the writing feel happy, fearful, or sad? Does the scene speak of nostalgia, or anxiety, or longing?

  • Attribute this emotion to one of your current characters, or a brand new character, and write a scene in which they move from this emotion to its opposite. They could go from fearful to relieved, or from sad to happy, or from nervous to calm.

  • Write for 12-18 minutes, whatever you have time for. Experiment with moving across this emotional spectrum with your character. See what happens!

  • Tell me about it on Twitter or Instagram. I’d love to hear how it goes!

BONUS

  • Take your two most favorite novels and do the same, only using the first line from one novel and the last line from the other. Come up with as many variations as you can, experimenting with the blending of the two author voices!