The Devil’s in the Details by Annette Dashofy

As I’m sure everyone knows by now, it takes a while to write a novel. Some of us take longer than others. I’m not here to debate how long it should take. If you write four books a year, cool. I’m envious. If you write one book every couple of years, cool. I totally get it. 

While it takes a considerable amount of time to write the book, the story usually takes place over a matter of days or weeks. Let’s face it, most of us don’t write family sagas set over decades and generations. 

James A. Michener is not one of our fellow Writers Who Kill. 

My current WIP is set in mid-August, in the very area where I live. Convenient as far as getting all the sensations correct. It’s hot. It’s muggy. It’s sunny, but occasional thunderstorms pop up, dump a bunch of rain, and then the sun comes back out and turns the puddles into steam. There are also bugs. Cicadas buzz in the trees. Spotted Lantern Flies have returned. Orb Weaver spiders construct amazing, often huge, webs. The birds have fallen largely silent. 

Much of this will make it into the book to anchor my readers in this place and time.

However, I started writing it in April. I’ve frequently written stories set in the dead of winter while sweating in July. And vice versa. Since it takes me nine to twelve months to complete a novel, I do usually find myself working on part of it during the actual season in which it’s set. Like my current WIP. But I’m also starting or completing it in a totally different time.

How do I make sure to get the details of setting and all five senses correct? Of course, I’ve lived through enough summers, falls, winters, and springs to remember what they’re like. But will I remember the tiniest detail that might offer the biggest impact? Maybe. Maybe not. (I intentionally forget how annoying Spotted Lantern Flies are.)

Here’s my trick. I already have a folder for story details. Character names and what they look like. What kind of car they drive. Where they live. Their favorite foods and beverages. It’s a simple matter to add a weather/season file. I may have no clue what will happen or what I’ll need to know, so I create a document that resembles a daily diary, except it only includes the little stuff. Chilly mornings, fog lying in the valleys, the mockingbird serenading me from the maple tree, the sweat trickling down my back, the itchiness of bug bites, the smell of fresh cut grass.

Of course, my winter diary is totally different.

Dear readers, do you enjoy the minutiae that place you squarely in a story’s world? And fellow Writers Who Kill, do you have any tricks for including (and remembering) sensory details for your settings?