Writing Exercise: Just How Naked Are They

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The matching question to the white-box syndrome for scene dressing is “Just how naked are they?” for not dressing your characters. I ran across the following question in the Novel November forums this year:

Clothing Question: I’ve recently come to realize that I never describe any characters’ outfits in my writing – I think as an affect of my old effort to not find myself with the My Immortal old fanfic style of going into far too much unnecessary detail on clothes. But now I never mention it at all, so – when do you describe clothes? How do you know which scenes should have it?

For today’s Writing Exercise, we are going to dress a character, but not by describing what they are wearing like an infodump character description, but dropping the information as part of a scene. The full assignment is below in the normal area. Here is my response (mostly- I did add stuff for y’all):

Genre really drives this. How important are the clothes to the storytelling style?

  1. Romance, very much so: part of the fun is dressing up the characters, especially for balls and special events. Barbie doll time!
  2. Science Fiction, pretty often: special environments on distant worlds may require unique clothing solutions (like the Fermin suits of Dune).
  3. Fantasy, sometimes: For example, riding clothing for special animals – heat resistant for riding dragons. Or the shawls of the Wheel of Time indicating status. Nearly always a wizard’s outfit is described; similarly, a fighter’s weapons and what areas are protected by armor.
  4. Mystery, bits and hints: clues are given by what people are wearing, or the damage done to the clothes. “The left cuff had signs of wear where the right cuff did not, indicating they were left-handed. The stabs were clearly from a right-handed person, so the husband did not do it. But since the majority of people are right-handed, this did not narrow the field far. It only removed the most likely suspect.”
  5. Horror: Most of the time the clothes get described as the gore is splashed on it.
  6. Thriller: A great example is 24 (a television show of a season in 24 hours) – what happens when the character doesn’t have time to change clothes, what happens to their clothes during the action-adventure. The damage to the clothes reflects the physical and mental trauma of the character.

Basically clothes reflect the story, the storytelling, and give information about the character.

That being said, story length can impact the clothing description as much as the genre. For short stories, especially flashes, there is no room for clothing unless it is integral to the story (hence, my stories rarely have clothing description). At the other end of the spectrum, epic fantasy tomes pushing two hundred thousand words each (including appendixes) have all the room in the world and each character’s clothing is described in detail.

A final consideration is tropes which can also be fun: inappropriate clothes for activity; overdressed; climate teleport (winter to summer or summer to winter – a favorite of portal fantasies); clothes as a reward; arsenal attire (weapons are incorporated into the clothing rather than just hidden by the clothing); the doomed disguise; cloned clothing (two characters with the same clothing mistaken for each other); stuck in pajamas; grandma’s gift is * magical * (a cursed or blessed family heirloom received without explanation); the list goes on…

Other people also responded with good suggestions:

  1. “When I describe clothing while introducing a character, it’s more a style or vibe, than a list of clothing.” (An example would be: “The new guy wore black like no other color existed in the world.” Or “For lack of a better description, the teen dressed like a goth dunked in a rainbow. And her personality matched.”)
  2. Using clothes descriptions as characterization is a great idea! I can see it helping me think of when and where to describe it, as I’d be looking for character and plot building details rather than ‘oh i should probably say they aren’t naked’
  3. In one case, a person describe about their POV character reacting to other people’s clothing: My judgmental POV character has tons of thoughts about what people are wearing. The descriptions aren’t excessive, just quick descriptions like “argyle sweater”, “grey fedora”, or “floppy blue hat” alongside the snarky thought. (a lot more description cut out) tl;dr: Clothes are great, describe away because they can be used for characterization and plot relevance.

WRITING EXERCISE: Pick a genre and write a scene of about 500 words (does not have to be a complete story like a flash) where the clothing of a character is described but not the typical “They looked themself in the mirror to check their fit.” The clothing description needs to be in the style of the genre.

BONUS WRITING EXERCISE: Choose one of the clothing tropes above and write a flash (500 words or less) around the trope.

READING EXERCISE: In your present read, dissect the most recent chapter for clothing. Does it meet genre expectations? Is there anything there you would call a clothing trope? How does the clothing match the vibe of the story? How does the clothing match the character and helps define them?

My attempt: Long ago, when I was attempting to write Cons of Romance for Novel November, one of my characters was a cosplayer. Her clothing descriptions, while in costume, were involved. Blog: NaNo Day 5, And so it begins (11/5/2015).

Other Cool Blogs: Magical Words December 9, 2015

Book Cover for How to Write Magical Words

Cover from Amazon

Fictional Holidays

I love Magical Words as a reader, writer, and editor. Member bloggers include self-published, small house published, and big house published individuals. And they know their craft.

For example, Gail Z. Martin’s December 9, 2015 post on world-building. (see http://www.magicalwords.net/really-i-mean-it/world-building-with-holidays/ 

Adding the layer of Holidays to your world can help define the values of your world, what they spend money on, and how they celebrate.

WRITING EXERCISE – After reviewing the above blog, create a fictional holiday for your world and/or work-in-progress.

My present work-in-progress, Cons of Romance, is set in contemporary America and actually has some world-building based on holidays. A lot of conventions cluster about holidays, because the long weekends allow people to take time off. I tried to tie my fictional conventions to real American holidays, which made added an interesting twist for my world-building.

The first convention is located in Maryland during March. I will come back to it.

The second convention, “GearFest,” is set in North Carolina during June and is only a two-day convention because it doesn’t fall on a holiday weekend. I specifically wanted this to be a short convention.

The third convention, “Tea Party,” is set over the July 4th weekend and is located in Boston.

The fourth convention, “WyvernCon”, is located in September over the Labor Day weekend and runs nearly five days. 

Again all conventions are fictional and created specifically for this romance novel.

Back to the first convention. I had decided the convention started life on the main character’s, Tara Miller, college campus and was tied to a holiday in Maryland. I wanted the convention to happen before June but after the weather started to get warm. Something that wouldn’t interfere with finals but warm enough people wouldn’t get snowed in. Low and behold Maryland Day is March 25th. Thus my fictional “ConButtony” (a Cross Buttony appears on the distinctive flag of Maryland) was born.

YOUR TURN – Comment below about your use of holidays in a work-in-progress or, if you are a reader, a book you enjoyed specific for the holidays such as Hogfather by Terry Pratchett.

Blog: NaNo Day 5, And so it begins

Book Cover for Cons of Romance

Cons of Romance
Words 758 – I would like to take a moment to thank ghunchu’wI’ and Felix Malmenbeck, two people who responded on the Klingon Language Institute forum, for their help in translating the words used by the Klingon Master of Ceremonies.

Klingon Stomp – Dance Floor Entrance

I squeezed his arm as we stroll to the ballrooms entrance, where music blasted out in throbbing waves. “My dear Mister Aleman, where on Earth did you get the idea that Klingons would have a slow dance to close their ball?”

“It’s the closing dance?” Jason eeped behind Brent.

I wish I had a fan to tap the boy with for speaking out of turn, but I hadn’t gone with that accoutrement in this year’s costume and I had already secured the opera glasses for what was to come. “I promise not to break him,” I assured, pulling my dagger out of my bustle where I had moved it last potty break. “See it is still in its sheathe and peace-tied.” I wiggled the red leather and gold metal encased weapon at him

Jason’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He passed my escort the pirate’s knife, resplendently colored with black and red before the plastic blade curved into the tacky dull gray of pretend steel. My sheathed blade was a little longer, which was one of the reasons I recommended the toy from the spread of weapons the Klingons made available to their guests when we initially arrived at the ball. With his height, I needed all the reach I could get.

“Just what exactly is the dance?” Brent asked with trepidation.

I glanced up flirtatiously through my waterfall of curls and wide-brimmed hat. “Well, we are at a Klingon Stomp.” Getting the last word in before we were swallowed by the techno-thrash music. Brent let himself be guided to the dance floor, having a facial expression just like Alice must have had after falling down the rabbit hole.

We had reached the edge of the raised wooden area when the master of ceremonies projected “mev!”; instantly the music stopped. Quiet pulsated against the inner eardrum. Most of those on the dance floor rushed off in an orderly-disordered evacuation: the green-skin women, the fur-cloaked barbarians, the black-uniformed Manticorian Navy, and the white-armored stormtroopers. A few of the people who had been supporting the wall all night ascended the dance floor with their partners. 

“What have I gotten myself into, Miss Timepiece?” Brent asked, guiding me to the center of the floor. We were only one of two Non-Klingon couples on the floor by the end of the exchange of dancers, and the other couple looked like escapees from the Mortal Kombat franchise, Liu Kang and Mileena if I wasn’t mistaken.

“I fear this shall make or break you GOH reputation for all time.” We moved into traditional waltz starting positions. Only difference was my left hand securely grasped the outside of his right where he gripped the toy blade loosely, while my weapon hand rested on his shoulder. A fair trade I thought since his left hand was on my back and had control of my center of gravity. “There shall be two minutes of slow dance, where couples may speak quietly as is right and proper. After which the music will change and the dance will become a little more…how shall I put this…freeform? The one who is able to press a knife to her partner’s throat and keep it there when the music stops wins.”

“Wins, my lady? And what are the stakes?”

“For the Klingons, honor and battle glories. Be careful when we move around; you lose face interfering with another couple on the floor. I would be most put out if you step on the wrong person’s foot.”

“Well then, I should thank you for choosing a knife as my weapon.” He nodded his head to the cartoonish naval dirk favored by pirates in movies. “I shall find it much easier to maintain a close dance with this blade.”

I loved Brent’s ability to slip into my cosplay. A few failed dates from outside the con community didn’t get it. I don’t just put on a costume, but a whole persona. Me, but an eighteenth century version of me. “You are most welcome Mister Aleman.”

“But I must point out, I am not a Klingon. Battle glories are not stakes I would play for.” He smirked at me in challenge.

The MC’s shout of “may’ Qav!” forced me to pause before responding. “Then what would you suggest Mister Aleman.”

“A kiss, my lady.”

I exhaled with a hiss. “You presume much, Mister Aleman.”

“And yet,” his smirk deepened, “I do not hear a no.”

The head Klingon hit a large drum for the first time that night and bellowed “moq!” ending our banter.

Blog: NaNo Day 4, Deleted Scene (Klingon Stomp Entrance)

Picture of plastic swords

Image from http://www.mardigrasimports.com/DZ-19-PIRATE-KNIFE-5230-TR233

[Blog: NaNo Day 4: Deleted Scene (Klingon Stomp Entrance)]

 

Cons of Romance
Words 343 – A Deleted Scene. Just didn’t work for the book, but the scene itself is too cool not to share.

Klingon Stomp

Either side of the entrance to the ballroom were white draped tables covered with knives and swords, colorful plastic and foam toys. The hosts of the Stomp must had wiped out dollar stores for miles around to get this large of an assortment. In front of each table stood a tall Klingon warrior in full gear, arms crossed, appearing menacing as only Klingons can. The music emanating through the doors physically assaulted us, and I gained renewed respect for my fellow cosplayers; had I such duty I would have created an earplug of some sort, wax or …

I would need explore white noise backwash possibilities limited by eighteenth century technologies. An interesting challenge I think Sally will love. I made a mental note to talk to the vixen.

“Weapons?” The right one growled at us.

Both my hands rested lightly on the crook of Brent’s arm. I leaned against him, laying my head against his shoulder, my curls cascading forward just shy of the moving gears on my corset. “No, thank you sir-ah, I have brought my own.”

The Klingon nodded approval then looked at my escort. “Weapons?”

“Umm.” Brent glanced down at me for instruction.

“I think a knife would be lovely.” I suggested, nodding towards the playthings. Gently I drew the con’s Guest of Honor over to the spread. “Ah, this should do nicely.”

Brent seemed bemused as I handed him a curved plastic blade, the cartoonish pirate weapon resplendent in red, gold, black, and the tacky pretend-gray of toy steel. My poor man looked very much like Alice must have after falling down the rabbit hole.

Returning my gloved hands to their proper location on my escort’s arm, I asked “Shall we dance?”

“Sounds wonderful Miss Timepiece.” His relieved answer indicated his uncertainty about arming guests entering a party did not extend to his feelings about spending time with me. Tucking the blade into his belt so he could place his left hand over mine, he clasped me firmly to his person as we both entered the Klingon Stomp.

Blog: NaNo Day 2, They Meet

Book Cover for Cons of Romance

Words 65 from NaNo: They Meet

“ConBottony?” The polite combination of confusion and certainty – after all, T-shirt with the word stretched over my C-cups – tinged the pleasant baritone voice and melted my insides for a second.

“Mr. Aleman?” I responded.

He sighed with relief, sticking out his right hand, his left carrying a military duffle bag. “Please call me Brent.”

Oh, he is so not going to fit in my car.