I was reading And Then There Were None today, and Agatha Christie described the start of the storm on Indian Island as rain hissing down. Sitting in my office having just finished my lunch, I closed my eyes, and yes – the sound the rain was making outside my little window did sound like hissing. I was pleased. Sometimes I hear an overwrought description of something common and think, “too far.” It takes me out of the moment and I find that frustrating. But I love when I read a description that is so apt I can say “yes! Yes that’s it exactly!”
I was reading a novel called Rabbits this morning, and the author, Terry Miles, briefly makes mention of the clunking of the windshield wipers. Instantly I was transported to rainy rides in the car as a kid, sitting in the back, coming home late. And the rhythmic clunk of the wipers, yes, yes that is exactly it.
Last week, I was reading Big Sky by Kate Atkinson, and she used a word I’ve never heard before, but I could feel in my bones perfectly described the action. The feel of the sound of it was perfect. She describes an elderly labrador (my spirit animal) with arthritic hips hirpling along. I thought, I can see that gait perfectly. It turns out it’s Scottish dialect for limping in a specific way.
In the saucy romance novels I enjoy (by Sarah MacLean), she uses a descriptor a few times of closing a door with a snick. To me, this is perfect. I can hear that door close. Admittedly, people also open doors with a snap in her novels, and that doesn’t land as well, personally.
Some time ago, I was reading a series by someone or another (maybe Anne Cleaves?) who described the sound of the ebbing tide as the water sucking on the shingle beach. I’d never think to describe that sound as sucking, but I can hear it, the shushing retreat of the tide.
I find this thoughtfulness by the authors delightful. It creates a moment without fanfare, without trying to make themselves look clever. Indeed, done right, the author disappears and you feel immersed in another world, even if only for a moment.

Leave a comment