#descriptive writing

Updated 19th October 2025 More writing tips, review tips & writing description notes

Dialogue Tags

Facial Expressions

Masking Emotions

Smiles/Smirks/Grins

Eye Contact/Eye Movements

Blushing

Voice/Tone

Body Language/Idle Movement

Thoughts/Thinking/Focusing/Distracted

Silence

Memories

Happy/Content/Comforted

Love/Romance

Sadness/Crying/Hurt

Confidence/Determination/Hopeful

Surprised/Shocked

Guilt/Regret

Disgusted/Jealous

Uncertain/Doubtful/Worried

Anger/Rage

Laughter

Confused

Speechless/Tongue Tied

Fear/Terrified

Mental Pain

Physical Pain

Tired/Drowsy/Exhausted

Eating

Drinking

Warm/Hot

Instead of trying to fill paragraphs describing everything, choose one or two things that breathe.

• The way the floorboards creak in one specific spot • A stain on the ceiling no one acknowledges • A flickering light that makes gives everyone a slight headache • The smell of something burnt and forgotten • A crooked family photo • Dust in the sunlight • A cracked mug someone refuses to throw away • The hum of an appliance in silence • A chair that wobbles • A window that should open, but doesn't • Shoes lined up too neatly • A plant flourishing, or showing signs of obvious neglect • The sound of neighbors arguing • A clock that’s slightly off

∘₊✧────✧₊∘ / / \ \ ∘₊✧────✧₊∘

* LIKE I ALWAYS SAY, THESE CAN VARY DEPENDING ON YOUR CHARACTER’S PERSONALITY TRAITS AND THEIR MANNERISMS

Quiet, simmering anger:

Sometimes, writers will repeat the same things in different words when it comes to this. It can be a hard thing to write, but practice definitely helps you master it! The character should be trying to hold back, or they’re too used to keeping their calm. Think of this of what happens before their breaking point. You can portray this best with:

- passive aggressive comments

- clenched jaw, tense

- narrowed, heavier eyes

- lips pressed together

- brows furrowing

- death stares

- biting the inside of their cheek

Unfiltered, violent Rage:

THIS. This is my favourite. Now, this one is usually used in moments rather than all the time. It’s very raw and more physical, and characters are spilling every emotion all at once. This shouldn’t look pretty, it should look real.

- Incoherent yelling

- hands bunched up in hair

- screaming

- violent sobs and hiccups

- tears getting smeared all over their face (great opportunity to include sensory description like salty taste, itchy skin..)

- scratching or nails digging into skin

- head leaning against wall

- stumbling mindlessly

Fed-up Anger:

Usually used for characters who have been too kind for their own good, or just tolerated it and are done. For fed-up anger, you start out exhausted then gradually escalate it into something more intense.

- not yelling, just firm and exhausted.

- exaggerated hand gestures, like they’re helplessly trying to explain

- slow tears, streaming down endlessly even if they’re holding them in

- head in their hands

- when they reach a point where they’re VERY mad, they could stomp their foot down or eyes widen with white hot anger

- hands fisted into balls at their side

- pausing to calm themselves

Thanks for reading <3 and remember, you’re not a bad writer if you can’t portray emotion well yet. It takes time, and even I’m still learning:)

Quick tips 4 writing in general: be raw and real, not sanitized.

Descriptive writing makes reading a more visual experience.

Utilize descriptive writing, to show not tell your story to readers.

However, it is important to note that if passages of descriptive writing are too long or too complex, they will slow your story down.

Alternatively, the story's development and readability fall flat if you do not use a variety of types of words.

Take time to choose your words carefully, expand your vocabulary, and practice descriptive writing.

Below are some tips that may improve your descriptive writing.

Try Using Metaphors

Metaphors compare one thing to another.

Utilizing this technique is not saying the objects you’re comparing are the same, but that your audience can note shared traits between the two.

Example: Jordan is a living map.

Explanation: Of course, Jordan is not literally a living map. What the map and Jordan have in common is geographical information and the ability to help others navigate locations without getting lost. What the writer has done here is demonstrate to readers that Jordan has an excellent sense of direction.

Play with Similes

Similes also compare one object to another but discuss one thing as being like another.

You will often find words such as “like,” “so,” “than,” or “as” used in similes.

Example: Diego soars across the soccer field like a jet.

Explanation: Again, this is not a literal statement. The author shows us that Diego is a fast runner and creates a vivid image in the reader's mind that would not have been present if they had simply stated that Diego is fast.

Make a Statement with Hyperboles

Hyperboles are exaggerated statements.

They are used to make a point.

Example: Math class lasts a million hours.

Explanation: Your readers will know there is no way a class can realistically last a million hours, but they will understand the feeling of time dragging on when you’re doing something you do not enjoy.

Use Sensory Details

Adding sensory details is a great way to help your reader experience your story.

Depending on the character and story, sensory details may include sight, hearing, touch, smell, and taste.

Be careful not to overload passages with sensory information.

Only use what is needed to communicate with the audience.

Example: Cold, wet glue dripped from the bottle onto her fingers; the tangy, chemical smell flooded her nose. She rubbed it between her thumb and long finger, relishing the transition from silky gliding fingers to tacky digits to peeling the cast of her fingerprint away from her skin with the satisfying crinkle of crisp paste.

Explanation: In this description of glue on skin, readers encounter details of touch and smell. Although this scene is not happening to readers at this moment, they can easily recall the smell of glue and the feeling of it between their fingers.

Choose Vivid Language

Choosing vivid language can form a clearer image in your reader’s mind.

For instance, you may select words that more accurately convey what you’re aiming to communicate, whether you are simply searching for a synonym to vary language or trying to locate a word with a more nuanced meaning.

Example: “The knight entered the kingdom on the back of a horse.” vs. “The knight stormed into the kingdom on the back of a mighty stallion.”

Explanation: Having a knight storm in on a stallion rather than enter on a horse is a much stronger, more heroic image. Additionally, stallion may be a better word choice than horse because it is specific. The word stallion tells the reader the horse is male and could be used for breeding, which, since this is a knight’s horse, could be relevant since it could be used to breed warhorses.

Incorporate Feelings

Crafting a visual experience for readers marks successful descriptive writing, but you also want your readers to experience your work emotionally.

For your story to reach its full potential, you need to incorporate feelings, whether those feelings are positive or negative.

Example: Desiree felt the weight of the empty space in bed pressing down and stealing her breath like a knee to the chest. She was cemented in place, limbs unfeeling, as she floated above the bed tethered to her body but no longer secure within.

Explanation: Here, the author shows the readers a woman dealing with the pain of grief and the hollowness that sometimes accompanies it. Most readers have experienced some level of loss in their lifetime and will understand and emotionally connect with Desiree.

One thing I’d really like to capture more in my writing is not the fighting itself but the feelings that come from the fight. For context I did Ju-Jitsu for 7 years.

There’s the feeling before the battle even starts. It’s this antsy anticipation for it. The countdown begins and you lock eyes with your opponent. You have no idea how this fight will go, it could go in any way. Your opponent could do the same old thing as always or they could do something you’ve never seen before. Belt color doesn’t always tell you their skill level either. They could be better or worse than their rank. Bottom line, you have no idea what’s going to happen. The only thing you can control is yourself. The countdown ends, so square up and take control of the fight or go home the loser.

For control you have to think of what you’re going to do while reacting to what your opponent is doing. You have to know your limits if a fight goes on too long and you run out of gas risking collapse. Strength does not always win a fight for this reason. (This has happened to me too many times. It’s very embarrassing to be wheezing like you’re dying, lying on the ground while everyone watches)

After that there’s the feelings of anger at a loss. When I was young there was an older boy I’d always have to go against and no matter what I did I’d always end up in an arm-bar. I don’t remember feeling helpless as much as I felt enraged that I just couldn’t win. I drowned out the fear with hate. Not to say it wasn’t there. I feared having to fight him again. I only felt angry during the fight.

Then there’s the glee of a win, heart-still-pounding in your ears and hair in your face you’ve succeeded after everything. The highlight reel starts playing as a smile grows.

Then there’s the aftermath of adrenaline. During a fight it’s great but afterward? Ugh. You can feel the moment the adrenaline wears off. It’s like a switch, first you’re fine then *flick now you want to collapse like a rag-doll. Your body is slick with sweat that’s probably not all yours, you’re dehydrated and panting like a dog, everything feels hot & heavy. Your hair is a knotted mess and your neck is on fire. Your body shakes uncontrollably no matter how hard you try to stop it. Even the idea of holding your arms up sounds difficult. Tears sometimes come because of all the stress that to me felt as uncontrollable as the shaking. Food sounds nice for your exhausted and hungry body but for me my ab muscles tend to cramp up and I feel like throwing up when I’m not sick. It’s not always like this but I pushed myself too far most of the time.

Fighting is probably the most invigorating yet draining thing you can do and I really want to capture those feelings of a fight more. Because it is so. Much. Stress. Fighting takes a lot of thought in addition to strength, execution and skill. It’s part of why it’s so hard to do. It’s sweat, time, tears and sometimes blood (Ju-Jitsu is fought without weapons or striking and people have gotten cut anyway. Fun fact, toenails are sharp) Writing fight scenes is easy, but writing everything that comes with the fight is as difficult as fighting itself.

If you have any questions I’d love to answer! On that note:

BRUCE being a Horrifying Creature from the Netherworld? 1000/10

Bruce should be able to make his loved ones’ skin crawl without the cape and cowl just as effectively as he can with them. Better yet if it’s unintentional.

Alfred walks into Bruce’s bathroom with towels while Bruce is taking his post patrol bath and his whole body tenses for 0.0001 seconds when he catches sight of Bruce sitting hunched over in the murky water.

The lights are off. Pale, scarred skin catches the light from the doorway, his oil black hair is damp, some plastered to his head and some sticking up in every direction. His fingertips are blackened from scrubbing the face paint off, his piercing, bloodshot blue eyes staring over his shoulder like a cornered animal seeing the sun for the first time.

His body is all angles, pointed elbows and bunched shoulder cracking quietly as he braces long, boney fingers against the edge of the tub, the knuckles pressed porcelain white by his grip.

Bruce goes to stand, the darkness making the grime stained water look black, dripping like blood from a beast’s unclean hands. He straightens like a creature rising from the depths of a black lagoon, aching muscle and bruised skin pitched like a tent over his bones, hints of rib and cheekbone and pelvis poking through the thinnest spots of the ripped and re-stitched tarpaulin…too tight.

The black fingertips reach out from the gloom amongst the echoes of droplets…

“Thank you, Alfred…” And the butler’s heart-rate slows a beat.

I always liked people with

glasses and braces,

not as a kink,

but as proof they were unique,

perfectly imperfect

just like me.

I love eyes so beautiful,

they had to be framed,

and a smile so brave

it had to be tamed.

and don’t even get me started on acne,

the stars and scars

a mere galaxy

every attribute of uncommonality

impossible to disquise

the beauty that was never hidden

promise me,

you’ll never hide!

Saw a funny Facebook meme and rambled about it in a post, so came here to ramble about the same thing in depth: this right here is one of the reasons why these kinds of overly poetic descriptions are a sign of young/immature writing, but it goes far beyond getting the "wrong color." As a writer, you don't want to paint a picture; you want to paint a feeling. Your reader's brain will paint the best picture from that. Too many details, and their brain gets too busy figuring out what the room looks like to fully experience what the room feels like.

Amateur: He walked into his bedroom, polished shoes stepping on the crimson carpet as his eyes wandered over the dark brown, solid oak furniture and the burnt orange walls. Twenty feet across from him, a fire blazed in the fireplace, shades of gold and vermilion dancing behind the black, wrought-iron guard. On the wall above, pictures of family going back generations were framed in gold, and on the wall to his left, miniature chandeliers dangling over his dresser like lamps. He looked at his bed, red like the carpet but darker in shade and adorned with bronze and gold intricacies that patterned a web over its plush surface. He was so happy to be home, where things were familiar, and he walked to his bed with a faint smile.

Expert: Tired feet struck the crimson carpet and stopped, equally tired eyes wandering over the familiar shades of earth and sunset that painted the landscape of his bedroom. Across the chamber blazed a fire, warm and welcoming, which so starkly contrasted the family portraits hanging above and displaying the faces of people he barely knew. He knew the fire, though; the crackling and popping cadence that never failed to lull him to sleep when the people in the portraits couldn't even do that much. Sleep, which he desperately wanted and needed, so he turned toward the bed, spread with a comforter that matched the carpet almost perfectly, ornate in design and—most importantly by far—covering a mattress so soft and deep that he often lost consciousness the instant he fell into its warm comfort and left the world's oh-so-cold discomfort behind. He had gone so long without that. Still smiling, practically salivating, he moved toward the bed, desperate to feel like he was finally home again.

In the amateur example, you can better see the room as the author sees it—what it looks like as a room. In the expert example, you can better see the room as the CHARACTER sees it—what it FEELS like as THEIR room. And that is so, so much more important when you're trying to bring your reader not into your world, but into your character's world.

Your definition of an 'earthy, homey room' can be different from that of your readers. In the second example, you leave out the fact you see chandeliers on the wall or golden frames around the portraits when you picture it in your own head; but that's okay, because the readers know the character feels warm and safe and at home. Maybe your reader thinks an antique lamp sitting on the dresser better fits in this 'posh but warm' scenario. Maybe they think candles or oil lamps. Maybe they think a dim room that isn't lit up in any significant way by anything other than the fire.

All of those are fine, and they don't impact the story. What does impact the story, however, is if you start talking about the chandeliers, and your reader has to go, "Oh, I assumed—okay, I can see that. Chandeliers. Got it." It happens in a split second, and your reader doesn't even know they're doing it, but their brain is taking that moment to recalculate its understanding of the scene. It breaks the immersion, it breaks the flow; it's the equivalent of pressing pause during a movie so you can take in the insignificant details of the set and then hitting play and trying to get back into the emotion you were feeling before you hit pause.