Into the Woods

Here are today’s Wonderful Words:

On the Northwest coast, there is no graceful interval between the ocean and the trees: the forest simply takes over where the tide wrack ends, erupting full-blown from the shallow, bouldered earth. The boundary between the two is unstable, and the sea will heave stones, logs, and even itself into the woods at every opportunity.

The Golden Spruce, John Vaillant, page 7

Background

The Golden Spruce is a story about a man who cut down a one-of-a-kind tree to draw attention to the evils of the logging industry. But the book is much more than that. It’s a history of the Pacific Northwest, the indigenous people who live there, the logging industry, and more. The reader finds these particular sentences early in the story, when the author is helping us get acquainted with the territory where the story takes place.

What makes it wonderful?

This paragraph didn’t tell me about the territory, it thrust me into it.

It took me back to the days I spent hiking through the dense forests of Mt. Rainier National Park.

It took me back to the evenings I spent on the couch with my wife, watching Alone, season seven. Where the cold waters lapped against the boulders on the shoreline while contestants struggled to survive.

It took me back to a place where the cold hand of mother nature won the armwrestling match against the warm hand of civilization.

Vaillant continues:

From the beach you can see as far as height and horizon will allow, but turn inland and you will find yourself blinking in a darkened room, pupils dilating to fill the claustrophobic void. The trail of a person, or the thread of a story, is easily lost in such a place. Even the trees, swaddled in moss and draped in ferns, appear disguised.

He made me feel as if I were standing in the scene from Return of the Jedi where Luke and Leia are riding the imperial speeders through the thick forest.

It’s the exact same way I felt while tromping through the Washington wilderness with my friends.

For Vaillant to describe a place I’ve been before, and for me to feel exactly the same way reading his words as I did standing in the spot—wow, that’s incredible.

Let's get technical

Vaillant is stacking techniques like a pro in these paragraphs. He hits us with a deadly combination, like a boxer landing the final blows of a bout.

First, a jab of imagery: the forest simply takes over where the tide wrack ends, erupting full-blown from the shallow, bouldered earth.

Then, a right hook of personification: the sea will heave stones, logs, and even itself into the woods at every opportunity.

Another jab of imagery: from the beach you can see as far as height and horizon will allow, but turn inland and you will find yourself blinking in a darkened room.

And an uppercut of personification: even the trees, swaddled in moss and draped in ferns, appear disguised. 

Jab. Hook. Jab. Uppercut.

And as the reader, we’re laid out on the mat, blinking and stunned by the description that just hit us over the head.

In a book about a forest, Vaillant makes us feel as if we were there. And it sets the scene for everything that follows. So when you’re writing your next story, try starting with the setting. Don’t skimp. Don’t spare details. Transport the reader from her cozy chair to the middle of your world. Let her watch the story unfold from the center, not from the outside looking in.

Happy writing,

Joe