Enrich Your Writing with Sensory Details

Using sensory details in your writing is one of the best ways to capture your reader’s attention. This is because incorporating sensory details empowers a reader to create a vivid mental picture of the scene.

Not only do sensory words capture our imaginations, they create an immersive experience which can strengthen our emotional bonds with the characters and the world.

Sensory details enrich your world building and can anchor a reader to an otherwise unfamiliar setting. We may not know what it feels like to be in a spaceship, but we can imagine following the scent of bacon down unknown corridors.

Last, when you write what you know and include sensory details you are familiar with, you’ll add authenticity to your tale.

Use Your Senses!

One novel that does an amazing job of involving the senses is Life of Pi by Yan Martel (Affiliate links: Amazon | Bookshop.org). If you’ve never read it, it’s like a masterclass in sensory writing. To illustrate what I mean, all the quotes in this article are from Life of Pi. Note, the novel (and quotes) use the UK spellings of many words.

Sight

When most of us write a scene, we describe what the setting looks like. But besides naming the objects present or what a character sees, consider describing the colors, shapes, shade and/or brightness, and visual textures of the setting. For example, “Tristan hesitated when he saw the door.” is less visually descriptive than, “Tristen hesitated when he saw the arched blue door.”

“I am not one to hold a prejudice against any animal, but it is a plain fact that the spotted hyena is not well served by its appearance. It is ugly beyond redemption. Its thick neck and high shoulders that slope to the hindquarters look as if they’ve come from a discarded prototype for the giraffe, and its shaggy, coarse coat seems to have been patched together from the leftovers of creation. The colour is a bungled mix of tan, black, yellow, grey, with the spots having none of the classy ostentation of a leopard’s rosettes; they look rather like the symptoms of a skin disease, a virulent form of mange. The head is broad and too massive, with a high forehead, like that of a bear, but suffering from a receding hairline, and with ears that look ridiculously mouse-like, large and round, when they haven’t been torn off in battle. The mouth is forever open and panting. The nostrils are too big. The tail is scraggly and unwagging. The gait is shambling. All the parts put together look doglike, but like no dog anyone would want as a pet.”

Touch

Touch can illicit pain or pleasure, discomfort or ease. If you need to add more tactile descriptions to your story, consider where you can add texture, temperature, pressure, and motion to your scene.

“Salt-water boils—red, angry, disfiguring—were a leprosy of the high seas, transmitted by the water that soaked me. Where they burst, my skin was exceptionally sensitive; accidentally rubbing an open sore was so painful I would gasp and cry out. Naturally, these boils developed on the parts of my body that got the most wet and the most wear on the raft; that is, my backside. There were days where I could hardly find a position in which I could rest. Time and sunshine healed a sore, but the process was slow, and new boils appeared if I didn’t stay dry.”

Taste

Food is a strong shared experience, and extremely immersive. Food descriptions can evoke memories (both pleasant and unpleasant) and trigger emotions. When describing taste, you can describe the nature of the flavor (sweet, salty, bitter, sour, or umami) and the strength of the flavor. This also gives you an opportunity to describe how the food affects the character’s emotions or memories.

“I bit into it. My chops were in for a shock. The inner tube was bitterly salty, but the outer was not only edible, it was delicious. My tongue began to tremble as if it were a finger flipping through a dictionary, trying to find a long-forgotten word. It found it, and my eyes closed with pleasure at hearing it: sweet. Not as in good, but as in sugary. Turtles and fish are many things, but they are never, ever sugary. The algae had a light sweetness that out did in delight even the sap of our maple trees here in Canada. In consistency, the closest I can compare it to is water chestnuts.”

Smell

Nothing evokes my memories more quickly than scent. I’ve often experienced the eerie sensation of being transported in space and time to me as a child in my grandmother’s house by a long-forgotten smell. When describing smells, we can consider the scent, the strength of the smell, and the impact of the scent on the scene.

Scent is contextual too. Although I might enjoy the fragrance of a wild rose while walking along an ocean bluff, I’ve found the same aroma (when worn by old ladies at a funeral) cloying and unpleasant. And like taste, adding smells to your scene provides you with an opportunity to explore if (or how) a scent affects your characters.

“I remember the smell of the spent hand-flare shells. By some freak of chemistry they smelled exactly like cumin. It was intoxicating. I sniffed the plastic shells and immediately Pondicherry came to life in my mind, a marvellous relief from the disappointment of calling for help and not being heard. The experience was very strong, nearly a hallucination. From a single smell a whole town arose. (Now, when I smell cumin, I see the Pacific Ocean.)”

Sound

Sound is one sense we often forget to include in our writing. When describing sounds, consider the volume, pitch, and rhythm of the noise. You can also investigate the reason for, or absence of, sounds.

“The first hours are associated in my memory with one sound, not the one you’d guess, not the yipping of the hyena or the hissing of the sea: it was the buzzing of flies. There were flies aboard the lifeboat. They emerged and flew about in the way of flies, in great, lazy orbits except when they came close to each other, when they spiralled together with dizzying speed and a burst of buzzing. Some were brave enough to venture out to where I was. They looped around me, sounding like sputtering, single-prop airplanes, before hurrying home.”

Use Sensory Details to Improve Your Writing

Sensory information is useful for describing characters, setting, and while recounting memories. You can also amplify the power of sensory details by describing multiple details together. For example, the sound and sensation of velvet crushing beneath your fingertips. Or the texture and flavor of a plump raisin squashed between your teeth.

You can use sensory details to add tension to your scene. This is especially true when they pop up in places where they are not supposed to be. For example, the scent of cotton candy is normal at the fairgrounds. And totally creepy when encountered while exploring an abandoned hospital.

Like any literary device, using sensory details in your writing gets easier with practice. A common exercise is to describe your setting using all five senses. This practice is as simple as jotting down sensory notes for your surroundings anytime you have a few free moments. If you need help to describe a sensory detail, a quick search online will reveal many lists of sensory-related words.

Do you include sensory details in your writing?

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