Pit Bulls, Fingers, Velociraptors

The art of imagery.

Here are today’s Wonderful Words:

This is what you get when you pair the agility and appetites of a cat with the mass of an industrial refrigerator…Picture the grotesquely muscled head of a pit bull and then imagine how it might look if the pit bull weighed a quarter of a ton. Add to this fangs the length of a finger backed up by rows of slicing teeth capable of cutting through the heaviest bone. Consider then the claws: a hybrid of meat hook and stiletto that can attain four inches along the outer curve, a length comparable to the talons on a velociraptor. Now, imagine the vehicle for all of this: nine feet or more from nose to tail, and three and a half feet high at the shoulder. Finally, emblazon this beast with a primordial calligraphy: black brushstrokes on a field of russet and cream, and wonder at our strange fortune to coexist with such a creature.

The Tiger, John Vaillant, page 25

Background

The Tiger is the true story of a man eating tiger terrorizing the people of a tiny town in remote Russia. The author spends a lot of time describing the history and tendencies of the Amur tiger. This passage begins the description.

What makes it wonderful?

We’ve all seen a tiger. Whether it was at the zoo, on Tiger King, or in the Google Images search results (go ahead, take a second and refresh your memory), we’ve all seen one somewhere.

But imagine for a moment that you’d never seen a tiger. Then imagine, instead of looking at a picture, you read this passage.

The picture you would form in your head is almost identical to the picture I linked to above. And that’s incredible. Few writers can describe something you’ve never seen before in a way that makes you picture it precisely.

It’s a gift—or more accurately, a skill to be learned.

Let's get technical

The beauty in this writing stems entirely from the imagery. As we’ve discussed many times, imagery is a vivid description that appeals to your senses to evoke a picture or a feeling. In this case, a picture of a tiger.

It has the head of a pitbull if a pitbull weighed 500 pounds.

It has fangs as long as your finger, and the rest of its teeth can cut through bone.

It has claws that are a cross between meathook and stiletto heel. If that description doesn’t work, picture the talons on a velociraptor.

And to wrap it all up, it’s nine feet long, three feet tall, and tattooed in black, white, and orange.

The description evokes a picture because it compares the tiger’s characteristics to things you know. You’ve seen your neighbor walking his pitbull. You have five fingers on each hand, and you can imagine the size of the mouth required to hold those finger size teeth. You’ve maybe seen a meat hook. You’ve probably seen a stiletto. You’ve definitely seen Jurassic Park.

And when you combine these familiar experiences, they create the picture of a tiger.

Writing vivid descriptions is simpler than you think. It doesn’t require flowery language or eloquent turns of phrase. It’s all about combining common experiences in unique arrangements. Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, they’ll only fit one way. But when they do, you’ll have a beautiful picture to share.

Happy writing,

Joe