[Tipster] How to Write Setting in a Book: You Need Purposeful Details

 I visited Universal Studios a lot as a kid. One of my favorite rides was The Studio Tour.  

You hopped into a tram and rode through various film sets. One set was a plane crash. Another was a simulated flash flood. And another was a creepy motel.

What made the ride so memorable was the detail in the sets. No longer was I visiting a theme park. Instead, I was at the site of a plane crash witnessing a real 747 on fire. 

Or, I was in a Mexican village about to be crushed by thousands of gallons of water.

Or, I was transported back to the 1950s, dingy Bates Motel. Old car and murderous Norman included!

I remember the motel’s blue, broken roof and the walls yellowed from age. I remember the curtains drawn across all the windows and the cracked porches. I remember Norman leaving one of the motel’s rooms while carrying a sheet-wrapped body.

The details I remember are minimal, yet vivid. (I even remember Norman wearing a dark brown jacket that reminded kid-me of old people.) They made each set memorable.

The detail you put into your book’s setting is just as important as a movie set’s. And yet new writers typically ignore or forget their scenes’ setting.

The White Room Syndrome

I feel like I’m in a white room.

It’s the most common comment I leave on a manuscript.

The “white room” is a metaphor that describes a scene’s lack of detail and spatial awareness. 

I read the scene and I can’t picture the people. I don’t know what they look like because the writer hasn’t described their appearances. (What’s their skin tone? What’s their hair color? Are they taller or shorter?)

I don’t know what the characters sound like because the writer relies on one dialogue tag: “he/she said.” (How do the characters respond to one another? Do they snap or hiss or intone or drawl?)

I don’t know what the characters are feeling because the writer hasn’t described their expressions. (Are their eyebrows furrowed in confusion? Are their lips pursed in disdain? Are they tapping a finger because they’re nervous?)

I can’t picture the room the characters are in because the writer hasn’t described it. (Are they even in a room?)

The “white room” is a problem most writers struggle to overcome. They want to spend all their time in either dialogue or internal monologues. They inadvertently abandon their reader.

But readers want a book that draws them in. A book that makes them feel like they’re a part of the story.

So your job, as the writer, is to provide the necessary details to establish your story’s setting.

The simplest, easiest way to do this is by engaging your characters’ senses, and by extension your reader’s. As you write your scenes, ask yourself:

• What do your characters see?
• What do they hear?
• What can they smell?
• What can they taste?
• What do they feel (both physically and emotionally)? 

These questions will help you develop a visually engaging setting your readers will appreciate.

How Many Are Too Many Details?

When a writer receives feedback to improve their setting, they tend to overdo it.

They bloat their manuscript with the mundane, unnecessary details.

This is a problem.

The details you include in each scene should serve a purpose.

They should provide clarity on the environment. They should set the mood and/or tone of the scene. They should tell the reader something about the characters.

Here’s an example.

Say the main character of a book is a lone-wolf vigilante. We’re inside his house and the author gives a quick rundown: blank, stained walls; tattered couch; broken blinds shuttered; single picture frame on the nightstand of a smiling woman holding a laughing child.

What can we, the reader, surmise from these details?

• From the blank walls and tattered couch, we can assume the vigilante either doesn’t have money or doesn’t care enough about his house to improve it.
• From the broken blinds and stained wall, we can assume he lives in a run-down place to avoid people. (Is he being hunted by the antagonist?)
• From the picture frame, we can assume he became a vigilante after his wife and child died.
• Bonus point: We can surmise, from the assumed-dead wife and child, the vigilante’s main motivation throughout the book will be revenge. 

The details of the house are minimal but provide just enough to 1) reveal important information about the main character, and 2) engage the reader’s senses without overdoing it.

Mastering the details of your setting can be difficult. You don’t want to abandon your reader in a white room, but you don’t want to bore them with long paragraphs of meaningless details. 

As you review your manuscript, slow down and pay attention to each scene. Have you developed your setting? Do your characters have dialogue tags that portray their feelings? Do your details have purpose?

Now buckle up and write.

Allison Parks
Production Manager and Book Coach