Like a lot of writers, I’m not a big fan of research. Not because I don’t like learning about new things or tracking down elusive, little known facts. No, my problem stems from the sheer volume of information out there and the seemingly endless ways to access the facts: Books and magazines, documentaries, internet searches, person to person interviews, even hands-on research.

Want high impact? Go for the nose.

Often, research is daunting because you’re facing an unknown, or something you’re not familiar enough with yet to represent accurately in your writing. How much kick does a .45 caliber gun have? How long does it take to perform an appendectomy using a first aide kit and a hunting knife? How much does a Prada handbag cost if you catch in on the clearance rack at Bloomies?

Getting the answers takes time and patience. Heck, sometimes just figuring out how to phrase the question takes longer than finding the actual answer. And let’s face it. How many readers are really going to KNOW you guessed that your Heroine could remove the Hero’s appendix in under an hour?

While “big picture” details are important in creating a story that allows your reader to suspend her disbelief, it is often the everyday details that permanently lodge a story into a reader’s memory and heart. Want your story to be a keeper? Then don’t forget to “research” the little details of your character’s world.

Your goal as a writer is to absorb your reader into your story, make her feel at home in the story world. How? Tickle her senses. Give her details, facts and descriptions that are so familiar and specific, she’s transported from her couch to your characters world.

Don’t set a picnic “under a grove of trees.” Set it “beneath the two-hundred year old oak growing out of a lush carpet of emerald green grass that had hosted the Smith Family picnic for generations. The tire swing Claire’s father had hung from a low branch still remained, even though the rope had been lengthened several times over the years.”

Looking for a darker setting? “The skeletally thin pecan tree was gray and bare. Her chances of blending or hiding were nil, but if she didn’t stop long enough to cram the stolen pb&j sandwich into her mouth, she couldn’t run another step.”

Two corny passages, I know, but exaggeration is an effective demonstration tool.

Notice the specific details? Not just any tree but an oak and a pecan. Notice the tire swing? PB&J? Two universal childhood experiences that ninety-nine percent of your readers can tap into. Instant, easy reader absorption. And a bonus: no need to TELL the reader the season because your specific and familiar details have SHOWN her!

Want high impact? Go for the nose. Of all the senses, smell is most closely linked to memory. So, what’s in the air? What kind of flowers are in bloom? (Note: Easy research required. Take region and weather into consideration when “planting” flowers and trees in your story world. While an Oleander bush is perfectly at home along the Texas Gulf Coast, you’d have a devil of time growing one in Chicago.)

Put yourself in the character’s place and take a deep breath. What do you smell?

Is someone baking? Tilling land? Mixing noxious chemicals? Wearing too much perfume? Sweating? Is there smog? A fire? New carpet? Smeared crayons? Log these odors, the good and the bad, and again, if possible, tie your descriptions to universal experiences.

Sounds are essential, too. Does your character live next to a train track? Have loud newlywed neighbors? Work around loud machinery that turns everyday conversations into shouting matches? Crowing roosters? Booming radios?

What do the sounds in your character’s world mean to the story? Hear those squeaky shoes? Is that the relief of the nurse coming with pain medication? Or the fear of an unknown person in the house?

The more tactile senses – sight, touch, and taste – may seem like no-brainers when it comes to the details in your story, but wait. Again, study your character’s world, not just the facts but the meaning behind them. Is the shrink’s couch red or maroon? What’s the difference, you ask. Well, maroon is a soothing, professional color, while red is the quintessential color of sex. Does your character trust this “doctor” who wants her lay down on a sexy red couch and spill her deepest secrets? I sure as heck wouldn’t!

I know I’m beginning to sound like a stuck record (does anyone even remember records?), but again, go for the universal experience. A sun-warmed bleacher burning your leg. Beautiful new shoes that are killing your feet. Razor burn. Pepper in your nose. Cool sheets. Itchy sweaters. Lukewarm coffee.

These small details are powerful words. Make them do double, even triple, duty. Don’t just use them to describe, use them to move your story forward. “The sexy red leather Prada boots she’d bought for fifteen bucks off the clearance rack at Bloomingdales had been Claire’s pride and joy fifteen minutes ago, but now, with the icy sidewalk burning a hole through her jeans, she’d give her eye teeth for a solid, ugly pair of rubber boots.”

Another corny sentence, but look how much we learn from the small details. Claire is frugal yet brand conscious. When push comes to shove, she understands the importance of practicality. She lives in an urban environment. It’s winter. And she’s just busted her butt. All in all, not one of Claire’s better moments. Am I the only one who can practically SEE the hero walking up the sidewalk?

Remember, the objective here is to draw your reader in. Don’t overexert your thesaurus. The beauty of small details is their simplicity, their familiarity. Would you have empathized with Claire if she’d landed on the cryospheric sidewalk?

Dawn Temple writes contemporary romances chock full of sensory details. She’s never set foot on a Tennessee farm, but hopes that after reading her debut novel, A Will To Love, you’d swear she’d been born there.

Copyright © 2005 Dawn Temple. All rights reserved. Used with permission.