The Perspiring Writer Magazine

Simply put, attentiveness is the art of staying in the present moment and observing that which otherwise might pass us by. It has been used throughout the centuries by a large range of people, anywhere from ascetics to professional athletes. 

Perhaps, you remember a common example of it in the cliché, “stop and smell the roses.” I’ve heard another example of the principles involved, applied to eating an apple. Merely taking the time to look and feel the outer skin, to smell the aroma it releases, to sense your mouth watering in the anticipation of the fresh taste and to hear that little snap as you bite off a piece. So, why not apply it to writing?

In this age of multi-tasking, is it possible that we are accomplishing more than we are experiencing? I think so. Can we write about our eating the apple as well as we should if we’ve eaten it while text messaging one person, carrying on a conversation with someone else, and doing both while attempting to watch television? I think not. 

Does that mean we should do only one thing at a time? No, that’s not practical, but being even slightly more aware of things by adopting the basic principles of attentiveness as we rewrite can improve our capabilities as a writer in the future. Our apples will taste better too!  Here is what I mean.

Next time you sit down to rewrite a second draft, reread it first. Pick one specific setting in which your character has been placed, one that you know you can actually relive. Maybe, it’s one that seems weak and in need of a descriptive booster shot, but it doesn’t have to be. It can be as simple as sitting out on a patio like your character does, or going into a grocery store.

In this case, Peanut, your female protagonist, is doing that exact thing; she’s going into a grocery store (whoa, how did that ever work out?). I’ll call this Circumstance A. The door opens: there is instant noise, the smell of produce and cleaning agents, and the coolness of air conditioning. Peanut side-steps the person in front of her, who has stopped to say “hi” to a friend, and continues her shopping. 

Now, to help your imagination do everything possible for your future writing, revisit a grocery store (or the patio, or wherever) and apply attentiveness by being aware of all the human senses. Get right down into the moment—dance the dance. As you enter the store, stand for a moment and truly observe, as if this were the first time you have ever been there. 

Open all your senses, slow down that little clock in your brain and “be there” (don’t look too weird as you “be there” or you’ll be thrown out). Then, casually walk through the isles, taking mental notes of what the people are doing, what you smell and hear. With practice, this part of the process is something that will develop on its own, and you’ll form good observational habits.

After you’ve done that, sit down at your computer and rewrite that particular sequence of events. I’ll call this Circumstance B: Peanut hears a mother coaxing her child into leaving, interrupted by an intercom calling a clerk to help at the registers. The fresh scent of cantaloupe stacked next to the doors, mixes with the smell of ammonia as an employee wipes down the front window. The coolness of the air-conditioned store gives Peanut a chill and she shivers as the perspiration on the surface of her skin causes goose bumps to form.  

She dodges the person in front of her who has stopped to hug a friend; smelling the combination of smoke and cologne as she passes. The odors seem so thick she can almost feel it coat her tongue, and she unconsciously moistens her mouth and continues  shopping.

Take a moment and reread both Circumstance A and B (I’ll wait right here). See the difference? You might be thinking that all I have done was to be more descriptive. You’re correct; I have, but don’t confuse the two. Being descriptive is presenting the picture whereas being attentive is the process which has helped me to present the picture more descriptively.

We write best from what we’ve experienced, research more or less fills in the gaps. One advantage that we writers seem to have is the ability to be intimate with things that have become familiar, the average person casually walks by without noticing them anymore. 

It seems we can also reach deep into our experiences and find that certain innate awareness that has melted in with our imagination. However, it’s easy for us to grow lazy and to skip a few details here and there in the name of experience or deadlines.  

As we rewrite a single scene, and practice a little more attentiveness by reliving the episode as it warrants, we can refresh our creative reservoirs. It will also enrich our future writing by helping us develop improved observational skills. In doing so, we accomplish the goal of what a writer sets out to do—to fully get down on paper what we want the reader to experience. 

What happens to Peanut? Well, she has to walk all the way to the back of the store just to buy milk. They do that on purpose, you know. Not being fully aware of things, she grabs a frozen turkey by mistake.  What a frozen turkey is doing in with the milk, she’ll never be able to explain (me either). She gets all the way home before she realizes she was supposed to be going to the hardware store to buy a hammer. Can you hammer nails with a frozen turkey?

Bio:

Bill Canavan is a part-time freelance writer and author, published throughout the U.S. and twice in Canada, which includes magazine circulations in Australia, Korea, Japan and throughout the UK. He has also written greeting card copy for several card manufacturers. Most recently, he has been published in Yesterday’s Magazette and The Perspiring Writer Magazine. He is currently working on a novel titled Frampton and Fobb.

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