Clunky... Eh, maybe. But it's also the convention of the form. It's like having "London, 1969" flash up on screen at the start of a movie. You have to get this message across somehow and it'll never be seamless. Everyone in the scene already knows where and when they are, there's no reason why they'd say it. Same as the people meeting a new character can see their hair colour. You could get all "...Well I always preferred a red head..." but that's a bit forced too. Exposition is a necessary evil. You can dress it up and you can make it better but you can't make it not be exposition that's there for the reader's benefit. And the reader understands that, I think. Once you've got those first few things out there, then you can take your time with the rest as and when it becomes important. Once we have that image in our head then we can slowly see the rest of them. That's when you can wax lyrical about their cheek bones and how those blue eyes sparkle and so forth.
I don't really mind exposision myself and find it far more awkward when it's forced into the character interactions or something like that. I describe some of my characters more than others depending on the importance of it all. Other than that I like to give my reader a bit of a seedling to imagine what the main characters look like no matter what. Hair, skin tone, build, height, and some distinguishing features as well as their dress habits.
I give just enough for the reader to see them as they want to, and never ever put an image of the MC(s) on the cover, thus not preconditioning the reader to what they look like. I am a less is more kinda guy, unless there is a reason to go into more detail to describe a character since they are not your standard human (or basic humanoid type).
I think it highly depends on writing style. I pepper character description throughout my stories such as if the character is touching a piece of clothing then I describe that clothing item (". . .the fabric, soft and subtle, slid through the porcelain fingertips. . ."). If they're looking at someone or something of importance, I describe their eye color (". . . storm grey eyes settled upon muddy waters . . ."). I enjoy description to the point of Stephen King and I have devoted paragraphs to describing characters, but only when the writing style calls for it. I like my description to come up naturally (as someone else said) so it's often not all at once because that's not generally my writing style. Eye color and hair color are usually the first to be described, though. Those are easiest to use in body language and movement. (My examples are awful, but they're just basics to what I like to do.)
Nothing turns me away from writing when I see in the first page a list of adjectives describing the character(s). I'm for less is more, and letting their dialogue and actions characterize them without me having to fill in all the blanks. That's the challenge and the fun of writing fiction.
I think there's a fine line between going too far and not far enough when it comes to physical descriptions. This is something I really struggled with and I don't think will ever be natural for me. I was lucky enough to have a very accomplished writer who met with me on a regularly teach me how to write description and where to insert these things. It's not easy. I remember in one of my earlier workshops people saying they couldn't tell the characters apart really. This is when I started to rethink my bare-boned approach to description. And there are plenty of books, I think, with lavish descriptions that don't get boring. Example: Elizabeth Graver's End of the Point. Graver's got description of everything and it's quite beautiful along with being a storytelling master. She's got the most description that truly work that I can think of from modern day authors. I think maybe description can mess up new writers so they learn to write without it, but then we can also reach a point where where it won't hurt to try to bring some of it back. It's such a fine.
Way back in nineteen fifty nine, four of us left a neighbour tavern in southeast Oakland - was around ten in the evening. We were on our way back to our boat, a Coast Guard woodend hulled eighty three footer - our home away from home, and for the time, in drydock. We had a good hour - considering the ballast - to walk the plus minus two miles. Couldn't have been more than three blocks from the tavern when this dog came running out between two houses, barking like his short hair terrier tail was on fire. That fifteen - plus or minus pounds - of dog, put on the breaks ten feet in front of us. Thanks to the street lites we could see his eyes held an unusual color, for a dog. Well, had anyone came by us two minutes later they would have seen four young men, ranging from short and tubby - our seaman, to long and lanky - our gunners mate, crawling towards that dog, A minute later were fanned out, not a foot from his nose that he had pointed towards us, while giving us a peak of how clean his front teeth are. I'm staring at his pink eyes, yes both of them, pink as can be. That's about the time that pink eyed dog reached out and licked my clean shaven face, from my chin up to my nose. We had to get up, in order to resume out walking - such as it was. That terrier, turns out he was white with random black spots. One of them did a good job of camouflaging his right eye, cute little feller for sure. That dang pup we figured he would head back the way we came, beings we were a good ten feet past his house - least we though it was. Well, to make a short one out of this. That dog followed us to the eighty three footer. He was having a fit trying to get aboard, what with the boat in drydock, so we helped him. Figured we would hauling him home the next day - didn't happen. Pinky, yea we named him Pinky, stayed with us. That dog had some sea legs. One of the many things he loved to do, was walk the gunnel while we were underway. The gunnel on that boat was ten inches wide. Well he made that eighty three footer his home; he was there when I was reassigned in late sixty.
Oh, geez. As usual, you've nailed it, Peach! That's fabulous 'description. It's the opposite of lazy writing. That's the essence of what makes a character's personality as well as looks pop straight into view. It's the opposite of a laundry list, isn't it? It might be fun to play with the idea of writing a description of a movie character using this technique. Just for practice.
I think that's what you should really be looking for; a way to cement a character in someone's head with one line of description. Not making them unique by being so detailed and telling us a huge list of adjectives, by filling in the one detail that makes them pop into your head. If there are little details I include when I introduce a character it's these little facial features that you get across in a few words. This character has impish freckles to go with her playful, irreverent sense of humour, that one has high predatory cheekbones that make her looks haughty and cold. The acrobat who's the love interest in my next book has overtones of panther in his description because he's graceful, strong and fearless (and dark haired). Just a couple of words that make them pop off the page; literally three or four very pertinent words that makes them feel unique.
I'd say none. Take me. Would you rather I tell you I have a cleft chin, green eyes, and thick eyebrows, or that I fought in Afghanistan as a US Marine? Is it more important to describe the subtle wrinkle of my forehead when I'm thinking, or more important that I avoid talking about my dad? Each word is special. Golden haired big-eyed anime boys are for TV. Use your words to tell me about the person, not their skin.
You probably need a little description - just saying you're an US marine who doesnt talk about his dad doesn't paint a picture in the readers mind ..... saying you have green eyes, a cleft chin and fought with the USMC gives the reader enough description to begin to imagine you.
I still say that's too much. Describe your character as briefly as possible then get into their head: "Zoup was a soldier, but he'd fight you if you called him that. He preferred the title Marine, but the distinction was just a formality after WWIV." In the book Ender's game the uniform worn by officers of the united humanity space program is described as "The only uniform that mattered anymore." That's pretty much it. No time is spent describing medal placement, or trouser flare, or shoulder width in comparison to whatever. The point is Graff's manipulation of Ender began the moment they met, and Ender only thinks he chose to fight the bugs because it felt like pennance for bullying his school mate. What Graff or his clothes look like don't matter.
...He had one of those faces that no-one could ever describe, hair that could be any colour. He could be standing behind you right now and you'd never know it. I agree that we should keep description as short as possible. But, well, is Zoup an adult? An old man? Has he stayed physically fit and kept the jar head hair cut after leaving the service? Or has he really let himself go? I don't ask for a lot but I'd like my readers to at least get some physical sense of the characters, something so at least that when we see two people walking down the corridor we know which one is our hero, you know?
Yeah but was he one of those Muscles are Required intelligence not essential" types who topped out at lance, and that only through attrition, or did he get a field promotion to lieutenant and end his first tour as company commander after the captain conducted a sniper test ?
Hehe Zoup was the sort of orb-shaped knot of a man that you would never suspect was a threat until he was standing behind you. Evasive, ordinary, relentless; middle age had slowed him the way it might slow a boulder. He'd never admit why he joined the military, because the truth was he didn't really remember anymore. Moose had spent his life taking no man's wrath without returning just, dispassionate revenge. He carried an awareness bought by decades of mistakes and triumphs; if the world had more like him it would not be so terrible a place to live. Service was a requirement brought by honor and loyalty- one of the few things Moose would kill for. Losttheplot was a blorphous cytoplasm from the planet Trex'nedon. These metal-clad humanioids made him nervous, but peace was a requirement for his mission.
Description can be wonderful if you make it so... me, I can live without knowing that a character simply has dark hair, brown eyes or a reddish skin because that is dull in itself and lends nothing to their personality. But I'm not sure I'd want to live without: "Even at normal times Aunt Dahlia's map tended a little towards the crushed strawberry... She looked like a tomato struggling for self-expression." Description, like anything else, is a tool and can be used to unwittingly drag the writing, or enrich and make it shine. It's all in the choice of words, imagery and adjectives As you can guess, Wodehouse is one of my heroes in this, as it Raymond Chandler: "She had pewter-colored hair set in a ruthless permanent, a hard beak, and large moist eyes with the sympathetic expression of wet stones." "The little blonde at the PBX cocked a shell-like ear and smiled a small fluffy smile. She looked playful and eager, but not quite sure of herself, like a new kitten in a house where they don't care much about kittens." (Great way to have a minor character immediately but not too memorable, btw)
Something else struck me while reading through this thread, besides what I've already said. I would be very wary of over-hyping description of characters, because it so often sounds silly and very 'beginnerish.' By over-hyping, I mean things like 'raven hair' rather than 'black hair.' 'Flame' coloured hair. 'Emerald eyes (my current 'grrrr...') instead of 'hazel' or even 'green' eyes. 'Azure' instead of blue ...you get the idea. There is no need to describe people's attributes as if they were a box of crayolas or the offerings in a jewelry store window.
Someone already invoked ~glistening emerald orbs~ right? I definitely used to overdo my descriptions, not only going into minute detail but getting really purple with it as well. Don't be twelve-year-old Izzy. Just call'em eyes and move on.
It's interesting how many people do the 'emerald eyes' business. So much so, that I was motivated to check this out at one point, and googled 'green eyes photos.' What came up were a few pictures with people obviously wearing contact lenses, some obviously retouched photos with heavy makeup, etc ...and a few normal eyes with a slightly greenish cast. I mean 'slightly' greenish. You just don't find people running around with emerald eyes. https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=green+eyes+photos&client=firefox-b&dcr=0&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiOq_Hm_qHYAhWrIcAKHUQkCegQsAQIJg&biw=1206&bih=766 I suppose fantasy writers can do whatever they want. But if you're writing about the real world, this just seems fakey and melodramatic to me. Here's another interesting link about eye colour in general. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eye_color
How many others here really don't give a damn what colour eyes or hair characters have, unless somehow relevant to the plot? It's just so uninteresting.
I don't think there's any one formula for good character description. Though I may have read too much Neil Gaiman for my own good, as I do wax whimsical when it comes to that one passage I dedicate to each important character in the story. I love describing people using animalistic terms... and, giving animals such traits as would befit a person. I'm writing Historical Gaslamp Fiction, so I'm free to get purple with my prose when the time seems right. I want the reader to have peek into the character's soul. (Gael: about 50, Scotsman) For a middle-aged man, Gael retained a tireless vitality. The man who managed animal acts at an opera house in decline — and at present, with a twelve-year-old girl in tow — resembled a disheveled lion that had an appetite for bourbon and brothels. A deep scar cut across his left cheek, a souvenir he had acquired on one of his travels; whether it was given him by a leopard or bear, one could not be certain, for the details, embellished always with wine, had a habit of changing from one telling to the next. Only the perpetrator herself — a jealous lover, a Negress from one of the southern islands — knew the full truth. (Claire: late 20s, actress/opera singer... her partners' are in reference to two Nile crocodiles) She wasn't a fetching beauty, but as the plainest of songbirds often sing the prettiest of songs, so it was with Claire — a little sparrow that possessed the wounded melody of a nightingale. As the consummate performer, she was destined for a fourth time to suffer a tragic and gruesome death by these wild beasts. Though she was sure of her performance in the play, she was starting to have doubts about her partners’ ability to convince a jaded audience. (Hugo: mid 30s, Frenchman) The second floor backrooms were known to every member of the theatre company as, “Hugo’s Palace”. Indeed, the tailor strode his domain with the deliberate gait of a parade horse. There was such an absurd sincerity to his pretentiousness that it made him almost intolerable. Yet underneath the pretense there was another man, one who took in destitute women and trained them to be seamstresses. His first profession had been that of a low ranking officer and field surgeon in the Royal Army, until an ill-advised affair with the second lieutenant’s mistress ended his military ambitions and returned him to the family business. That sewing flesh and fabric required the same prowess was not lost on the actors who were frequently jabbed by his pins. (Valerie: mid 20s, French Courtesan) “Yes, and other things too...” Valerie removed the lid from the hat box. “We only see the ornaments of creation — we go down to the seashore and dip our toe in the surf, and believe we know the ocean. Perhaps Monsieur Seneca suspected as much.” She took the hat and put it on, cocked it to one side, and stood in front of the wardrobe mirror. “Oh dear, this is preposterous!” She was an aristocratic young woman with fierce, gray-yellow eyes, like those of an owl they were unnerving. She had full cheeks and thin lips, and rolls of dark curls that tumbled onto her shoulders. But at the moment it was the hat, worn at a dangerous rake, that transfixed the senses; folds of pink silk spun into a turban atop a plum-colored brim from which iridescent peacock plumes fanned a single scarlet ibis feather. So outrageous was its length that its red tip brushed the ceiling.
I agree with Bayview. There are too many examples of lots, little, in-between, that any reader can hold up as evidence of a given take on the matter. My personal take is to remember the POV. Whose eyes are we looking through to get the description and how much description would that person (not me, the writer) really be noting? But not everyone agrees with that take. I'm reading ASoIaF right now (Book 3 at the moment), and Martin doesn't follow my advice... at all. Every third paragraph is an episode of Project Runway: King's Landing Edition. And his books are written in serial 3rd person close, so it seems a bit intrusive on the writer's part that every character should be so sensitive to other people's raiment. But, he's got an HBO show and I don't, so... *shrug*
I try to describe what the point of view character would notice. If it's his little sister who mysteriously came back to life after sixteen years, he's going to be noticing a lot about her. His police partner he's worked with for ten years? Probably not so much. It's also going to effect how the characters are described. He's going to describe his newly resurrected little sister in a much more positive light than the main villain, regardless of how they actually look.
